Oliver Pilemand's lessons in love

What the inspiration behind Goodnight, Then and how much of the story came from your own experiences?

Funny you should ask that; the idea for the film is directly inspired by my own experience of falling in love with a girl in high school, although the real-life story involved me actually driving her father’s car and managing to mess up the brakes so badly that the motor smelled burnt all through the next morning… but it paid off; we’ve been together 10 years now and had our first kid back in June, and I have been forgiven by my in-laws.

I can’t help thinking how fragile those early moments in a romantic relationship can be. When just being in the presence of the other person is all you ever dream of.

Looking back from where I’m at now, and considering all those instances of luck, chance and reckless courage it took for us to end up together, I can’t help thinking how fragile those early moments in a romantic relationship can be. When just being in the presence of the other person is all you ever dream of - my GOD, you wouldn’t risk ruining such a tender moment by saying something stupid like “I love you”, as Frank Sinatra sings it. 

So, we do these little dances instead; around a bag left behind, or a flat tire, or a night train not showing up at the station (as was my excuse) to drag out the time until separating juuust a little longer. Maybe an extra hug or a cheeky question until the point of no return arrives and you either have to take that risky step and say what your heart wants, or say ‘goodnight’.

Above: Pielmand's YDA Gold-winning short film, Goodnight, Then.  

The script is great, and very recognisable for many people; how long did it take to perfect it?

Not too long, actually. I had been playing around with the idea for quite some time – to make a story or a scene that unfolded after the typical ‘big scene’ at a party or a date. Initially, it was conceived as a fragment of a longer film, but I felt a strong urge to write out that part in full and just explore the dynamics of that moment between two characters. 

What do you say when you’ve already said everything there is to say, but you don’t want the night to end just yet? As I was exploring ideas I found myself cutting dialogue and, instead, gravitating towards longer, drawn-out silences between the characters. Actually, the first thing I had conceived of, a long time ago, was the guy accidentally hitting the horn, as I thought that would be such an awkward situation to recover from! Like how the hell do you get back in your cool?! 

I liked the idea of them saying ‘goodnight’ as a repeated line, working like a rhythm or a dance of words between the characters.

I liked the idea of them saying ‘goodnight’ as a repeated line, working like a rhythm or a dance of words between the characters, a tug-of-war where both of them are aware of the silliness of the situation, but don’t dare take that leap of faith. So, building the script around that as a backbone, I wanted all the other beats to be an opportunity for the characters to actually take that step towards spending the night together, but missing the mark every time. 

So, the script itself came about in a day or so really, at least on paper. The reality was that the final version was made in collaboration with the actors, refining their lines and exploring variations. It was the way I wanted it to be for the film, especially because the pauses and silences were such an integral part of the story – but writing pauses on a script page doesn’t really give you a sense of how the final film is gonna play out. In this case, a three-page script ended up as a six minute movie.

Above: Oliver Pielmand [photograph by Tenzin Olivia Gustenhoff].

Tell us a bit about your background and route into directing.

It has been a long and winding road for sure! My background is actually in music, as I’ve been playing the piano from a very early age. So, my route into working with film was actually sound-first. To me, the sound matters more than the image (to the dismay of the DPs I’ve worked with!), and when I write or dream up scenes it is always the sounds and flow of beats, dialogue, etc., that shape the direction. 

My route into directing has really been one of twists and turns, and I don’t think I’m the best at making things easier for myself.

My first real film gig after graduating high school was actually as a one-man sound recordist/boom operator on a feature-length graduation film from SUPER16 in Copenhagen. Only after that did I serve my time as a PA on shorts and commercials, before moving to the Czech Republic to study directing at Prague Film School. Since then I’ve been working odd jobs on TV series and even took a bachelor’s degree in Film & Media Studies – all while directing short films and small ads. 

I like experimenting and, more often than not, I’m also the editor of my own work. As a director, the idea of ‘honing a craft’ always seemed a bit stale to me, as I think every project or filmic endeavour is really an opportunity to explore artistic ideas – not just a means of ‘getting good’. So my route into directing has really been one of twists and turns, and I don’t think I’m the best at making things easier for myself in that regard – but I like going my own way with what I have available.

Above: The one-take short features actors Milo Campanale and Dina Munch Rasmssen.

The directorial style is very pared down and simplistic; is that an approach you like to take in general, or was it the best approach for this script?

In general I consider myself very framing-conscious; I don’t like going handheld and just shooting the actors’ faces – but for this project in particular I felt that the story called for an approach that didn’t invade on the characters’ personal space. I’m not a fan of sticking to a dogma for the sake of doing it (or dogmas in general), but I really wanted to shoot the film one-take and create that tension of not cutting away, so as to express the fragile moment between two people who both wish they could just freeze time. 

I felt that if I were to make a cut, it would ruin that moment for the audience as well. So, instead, the photographer, Tenzin [Olivia Gustenhoff], and I worked with in-depth staging to add movement to the story and use the distance between the actors as a dramatic device. She also had the genius idea to use a low shutter angle to make the actors’ movements more jittery and tense.

I’m not a fan of sticking to a dogma for the sake of doing it (or dogmas in general), but I really wanted to shoot the film one-take.

I liked the idea of having just a single, almost random camera movement at one point during the unbroken shot (I took a lot of inspiration from the amazing short The Steak by Kiarash Dadgar, another one-take YDA Gold winner from 2024). Having the car leave at the end like ‘all is lost’, and then slowly panning the camera to reveal the guy’s decision to fake an engine breakdown, seemed like a fun but fitting way to elevate our single-frame approach. Of course, it posed a big challenge in terms of traffic, since now the passing cars couldn’t just go behind the camera… but, after six tries, we got the take that is the final film – and that was it! No need for coverage or anything.

Above: Pielmand took inspiration from previous YDA-winning film The Steak, by Kiarash Dadgar.

To a large degree, the success of the film relies on the performances; can you tell us about the actors, where you found them and how hard it was to cast the right people?

I was very lucky and fortunate to work with actors – collaborators, really – that not only fit the part, but also really elevated my story with intuition and heart. It was kind of a lucky meeting, really: I had been in touch with another guy for the leading man, but had to reconsider as he didn’t have a driver’s license. I knew Milo [Campanale] from a TV series I’d worked on and really loved what he did back then, so with very short notice I reached out and asked if he was up for a reading. Same thing for Dina [Munch Rasmssen], who I’d seen in a short made by a friend and really loved her part too!

From the get-go of running lines, the chemistry between them was unmistakable, and I was certain I’d made the right choice.

So, without a backup plan, I got in touch, but they were both super-busy with other work (amazingly talented as they are!) and we had to fit both reading and shooting around them filming other projects back-to-back. We managed just a single table reading only days before the shoot, the first time Dina and Milo had even met! But from the get-go of running lines, the chemistry between them was unmistakable, and I was certain I’d made the right choice of trusting my instinct on the casting. 

Just like the story itself, it was a matter of luck, chance and gut feeling that settled the deal in the end. So, it turned out to be one of those moments where everything just clicks.

Above: Both Milo Campanale and Dina Munch Rasmssen were very busy, but were able to fit in the filming of Goodnight, Then.

How long did it take you to make the film, and what was the most challenging aspect of its creation?

Since the film is shot in a single take, production only lasted a day – and yet it felt like running a marathon: we shot the film just two full days before YDA closed for submission, and even though there was no editing as such, colour grading, sound design, titles and graphics still had to be done in basically a day. When we wrapped production I hadn’t yet locked the post-team, so I had to call up the sound designer, Dennis [Lee], and colourist, Andreas [Hebo], out of the blue the next morning like, “hey, are you up for doing this short? Deadline’s tomorrow!”. So, within 60 hours of leaving home for gear pickup, we had a finished film!

Since the film is shot in a single take, production only lasted a day – and yet it felt like running a marathon.

Of course, on top of a tight timeframe, we didn’t avoid the usual production hiccups that seem to be embedded in making a no-budget short. On the morning of shooting, the car I’d rented for the film had a motor malfunction and my booking got cancelled – but a friendly mechanic at the workshop was kind enough to lend me his private car to use – so that’s his beautiful red Nissan Milo is driving in the film! 

Also, both the sound recordist and gaffer had to cancel at short notice, so Sofie [Juel], the AC, did double-duty with both non-wireless focus pulling and a bounce board, while Elisabeth [Søndergaard, director’s assistant] and I ran sound. So, yeah, we’re talking true skeleton crew really – four crew plus two actors – which also meant we had nobody to hold traffic during shooting, and for reasons unknown to me, this usually quiet suburban street that we used had cars passing by every minute. Quite tricky when shooting a one-take! So, logistics were a bit challenging as I was essentially organising and producing the film by myself – but I’d say that if your only challenge as a director is a matter of logistics then you’re off to a good shoot, because all the important things (acting, script, cinematography) must be on point!

Above:

What did you learn from making Goodnight, Then?

The biggest takeaway, really, was just the importance of sticking to your guns and planning for that execution – but even more importantly, just how much is achievable with little to no means if you surround yourself with great people who bring their talent to your project. And, really, to try and make something with whatever you have available. I mean, if it’s possible for you to make a film, then don’t let it sit in your drawer – just make it happen!

The biggest takeaway, really, was just how much is achievable with little to no means if you surround yourself with great people who bring their talent to your project.

Of course, we took a big risk going about it the way we did, but it felt to me that going all-or-nothing on a one-take made the work matter much more to everyone involved – compared to shooting coverage and doing things the safe way. As mentioned, we did six takes, each one bringing us closer to that final sweet spot - and when we hit it, all of us knew we got the shot that would make the final film! (Although we did do a very unnecessary seventh ‘safety’ take). 

I really loved working in a way that felt tangible for both cast and crew; sometimes shooting coverage can feel a bit like moving the actors around like chess pieces, and only the director and DP really know where the game is heading – but in this instance we had the entire film unfold in front of us as we shot it. It did feel a bit strange to do only this single set-up and then wrap up shooting within an hour when the sunlight was all gone, but imposing such a limitation on the project from the incubation booth surely helped strengthen the vision and keep production to an absolute minimum.

One lesson I learned the hard way, though, was to properly load my photo film camera next time – as I ended up shooting a full roll of film during production that came out completely empty… so, sadly, there are basically no BTS photos from the production.