Giovanni (Giovanni Bucchieri, playing a version of himself) and Louise (Midsommar star Louise Peterhoff) are two dancers who once shared the stage and fell in love with each other. More than 20 years later, Giovanni is living with bipolar disorder and still revisits memories of their relationship. Meanwhile, Louise is an established stage director and choreographer, engaged in the challenge of creating her own adaptation of Romeo and Juliet.

Skillfully blending fiction and real footage taken from his own life, Bucchieri has gifted viewers a powerful, moving melodrama revolving around his lead characters’ longing and loneliness in spite of their success and romantic pasts.

Over Zoom from Rotterdam, Netherlands and ahead of the premiere of 100 Seasons at this year’s International Film Festival Rotterdam, the Linköping-born helmer talks about his debut feature and the catharsis of making it.

Projektor: How did the idea for the film come about and why did you start working on 100 Seasons?

Giovanni Bucchieri: My girlfriend and I were together for five years, starting from 1994, and then we broke up. It was our first love. I sat watching [our] cassettes for two years—for real—while she got a new boyfriend. Then, we didn’t have contact for 10 years. In 2009, we ended up in the same class of the same drama school in Stockholm by coincidence. I understood I would love to make a movie where I’d put [footage of] real memories, but also create a fictitious reality for each other. One day, I was with my friends and I was drunk. I called her. I said something like, “Hi, I’m gonna make a movie about our love. Do you want that?” That happened in 2010. Later in 2014, I met my producer. And it was quite fun, because the producer called her asking whether she wanted to be in the film about her love. So it’s been in my mind for many years.

But what do you think ultimately convinced her to join your project?

First, [Louise and I] sat down and looked at all the material before the producers did. Because it’s quite personal for us. But she was quite positive about it from the beginning. She thought it was a nice adventure to embark on. But it’s also been quite hard, I must say. And it’s been quite strange too, because we don’t know each other anymore. I mean, I know Louise, but the past version of her. And now she’s a grown-up mother and a strong woman. And she knows me, but more of our internal jokes. So the way we worked together has been strange.

I can imagine that. I was wondering whether the archival footage we get to see influenced the script or the other way around. And how did these two components interact with each other? 

I mean, some things were inspired [by the cassettes]. But I had a goal. I didn’t want to tell so much of the story that was set in the past. The past was there more as my feeling of youth, and I wanted the story to be a little bit more [grounded] in reality, [set] nowadays. Some details are in there, [for example] the blue jacket and us being at this castle in Stockholm when we were 17. So I wanted to stage a scene set today [to show] how I felt back then, when I was with her. So the footage inspired me, but [only] with small things.

In a way, all these artists try to explain love and they do it so magically and so beautifully! But they can never come close to reality [and understand] my first love, or your first love, and what it’s really like.

How much footage did you record when you were younger?

A hundred hours.

Why were you filming so much, if I may ask?

Because I was very suicidal when I was young, and Louise didn’t know that. I wanted to keep something from my life. I filmed a lot, so that my grandchildren could see things of my life. But the stupid thing is, if I would have killed myself, I wouldn’t have grandchildren. So it was quite strange, you know? And that’s why I was obsessed with filming everything, every moment, every second.

Is the recurring element of Romeo and Juliet somehow connected with your real-life experiences or is it just a plot device?

I love Shakespeare, modern theatre, all the movies. But I think what is quite fun with artists like Prince, David Bowie, Kate Bush, Virginia Woolf, and others is that they try to understand something they are never gonna understand. And like Shakespeare, they wrote the most beautiful plays. In a way, all these artists try to explain love and they do it so magically and so beautifully! But they can never come close to reality [and understand] my first love, or your first love, and what it’s really like. Louise wanted to do a version of Romeo and Juliet that is quite “right,” quite “German,” hardcore, with bygone music, and very minimalistic. In the end, somehow, she understands that she herself has been living in a Romeo and Juliet-like situation. She didn’t even think about it because she was that much into her career. [Meanwhile,] Giovanni lives in the past, while she just pushes it away. 

How much has this whole creative process been therapeutic or cathartic for you? 

It’s been so [cathartic] in many, many ways. I’ve been suicidal all my life, and suicide is  some kind of ritual. I thought, “Instead of killing myself, I’ll kill myself in a movie.” For me, the movie is a goodbye. I’ve been living so [intensely]: I was partying, taking drugs, drinking… What I understood is that I’d never had a nice goodbye with someone—with my mother, with my ex-girlfriends. So [my] therapy was for me to say goodbye to a world that I didn’t want to live in anymore. In the end [of the film], when we sit in the train, that’s the perfect goodbye for me. You sit beside each other. You just give a glimpse, and look at each other [as if saying], “I love you. But we’re never gonna live together. But I love you.” I wish I could always have that kind of feeling when I lose someone.