The 77th Locarno International Film Festival recently celebrated the remarkable debut of Lithuanian filmmaker Saulė Bliuvaitė, who was awarded the prestigious Pardo d’Oro for her film Toxic. This thought-provoking work follows the lives of two Lithuanian teenage girls who aspire to achieve the so-called ‘perfect body’ necessary for admission to a mysterious modeling school. This school promises them a chance at a better life in a more developed part of the world, set against the backdrop of a collapsing industrial town in post-Soviet Lithuania.

At its core, Toxic explores the paradigm shift that occurs when an industrial society collapses and transitions into a service economy. This transformation signifies a shift in economic power from masculinity to femininity, as the service and entertainment sectors increasingly absorb women into the workforce, creating opportunities that often require them to embody societal ideals of femininity. The film also poignantly addresses the challenges women face in reshaping their bodies to conform to the ‘perfect’ standards suggested by the market.

Anuradha Kodagoda had the opportunity to interview Saulė Bliuvaitė shortly after her award win while she was en route to the Sarajevo Film Festival, catching her during a brief transit in Istanbul. In our engaging conversation, we delved into her experiences and insights surrounding her debut film, Toxic.

AK: Congratulations on your victory! As I understand it, the film is set in post-Soviet Lithuania. Can you share what sparked your initial interest in making this film? How much of Marija and Kristina’s story reflects your own experiences as a teenager in that context? Were there particular events that inspired the narrative?

SB: The story in the film is a compilation of various situations that I experienced or that my friends experienced. It draws from a wide range of experiences, not just my own, but from a group of people I knew during our teenage years. I believe it’s natural for writers to infuse elements of themselves into their main characters in terms of personality traits and characteristics; this often happens unconsciously.

Specifically, I would say that Marija is more reflective of my own personality, while Kristina embodies traits of my more extroverted and adventurous friends. I tended to gravitate toward friends who were wild and lived life to the fullest, which allowed me to experience their adventures vicariously. This dynamic shaped the characters in the film: Marija is more of an observer, while Kristina is the one who dives into life’s challenges headfirst.

Initially, I did not consciously consider how their character traits might convey a specific message. I wasn’t focused on crafting a particular thematic statement; instead, I aimed to illustrate real-life situations that I wanted to portray. My primary goal was to explore these authentic experiences without overthinking the underlying message of the film.

AK: Toxic offers a unique feminine perspective on the themes of body image and consumerism. What motivated you to focus on this viewpoint? The film presents a feminine perspective that is quite different from male-centric narratives in cinema.

SB: When I was a child I often watched movies on television, particularly those from the ’90s and early 2000s. Most of these films were centered around male characters, and I found myself longing for stories that I could relate to. I empathized with male characters, which impacted me as a woman. Spending decades identifying with male characters, who were often the only relatable figures, affected my development as a person. Female characters in these films frequently felt shallow and lacked depth, making it difficult for me to connect with them.

I often identified more with male characters, and this had a significant impact on my identity. I missed seeing stories about my mother, my sister, and other women in my life, as films didn’t seem to reflect our experiences or realities at all. This desire to tell our stories inspired me to pursue filmmaking. I wanted to create films for myself and my friends so we could see our lives and experiences represented.

I am still very enthusiastic about this mission. While some people claim that things have changed since 2015, and that there’s now a greater interest in films and books by female authors, I believe we still have a long way to go to achieve true representation.

AK: The film’s visual elements play a significant role in conveying the emotional landscape of the characters. What was your vision behind the cinematography and the choice of color palette to reflect their inner struggles?

SB: I didn’t want to follow the standard cinematography typically used in teenage films, where the camera constantly zooms in on the characters’ faces. I believe that the atmosphere and environment are just as important as the characters themselves, and I wanted to showcase the characters within the context of their bleak industrial surroundings.

My goal was to create a contrast between their youth and their aspirations for friendship, love, and other vibrant, lively experiences, juxtaposed against an environment that feels stuck in the past, where nothing exciting seems to happen. I aimed to portray these characters in relation to their environment to capture the sense of struggle they face in wanting to escape the place where they find themselves.

AK: Can you discuss the political background in Lithuania that influenced your movie? The film is set against a bleak industrial backdrop with a lot of Soviet architecture. The characters, especially the boys and girls in the film, are not involved with phones and social media; instead, the boys are into drugs, and the girls are concerned about their looks. It seems you’ve specifically set the story in post-Soviet Lithuania, where the economy underwent a significant shift from industrial to service. Can you explain?

SB: I wouldn’t say there is a strong political background to this film. Instead, it relates more to my own experiences as a teenager. I grew up in an industrial area in Lithuania that was occupied by the Soviet Union from the 1940s until 1990. I was born and raised there, and by the time the Soviet Union collapsed it left behind places filled with Soviet architecture – remnants of that empire.

In the ’90s people were trying to reorient themselves toward a capitalist Western world, but when I returned to that same area twenty years later the Soviet-era architecture was still very much present. The buildings constructed during the Soviet occupation are still standing, and I often wonder if they will endure for another hundred years. The collapse of the Soviet Union happened decades ago, yet people in Lithuania often say they no longer speak about it, as if it were a distant memory. They might feel like they are in a different landscape now, but visually that landscape remains unchanged.

In my hometown there are some areas that were built while Lithuania was independent, during a brief period before the two world wars. Those structures are stunning compared to the vast, industrial buildings that dominate the area. My hometown is filled with beautiful architecture, a stark contrast to the industrial zones. Sadly, these remnants of the Soviet era will likely stand for a long time, as no one is planning to demolish entire areas of those buildings.

AK: In what ways do you believe the decline of industrialization impacted the characters’ aspirations and choices? How does this transition affect their perception of identity?

SB: The decline of industrialization creates pressure for individuals to turn themselves into commodities. There’s this expectation for them to capitalize on their own identities, which I believe is a significant contemporary problem. Everyone feels the need to find ways to monetize themselves, which is a theme I wanted to explore in this film.

For the girls in the modeling school the pressure is to commodify and monetize their bodies. It’s as if everything about being human has to have a price tag. There is a pervasive belief that everything must be monetized, and nothing can be considered free anymore. People even joke about monetizing the air we breathe because, in today’s world, it seems like everything is for sale – natural resources included.

AK: You highlight the irony of consumerism in the context of the film. How do you think societal beauty standards impact young women today?

SB: While making this film I came across an article in The New Yorker titled “The Age of the Instagram Face.” It discusses how many of the faces we see on social media are not real. Women increasingly visit plastic surgeons to alter their appearances, striving to look like the images they see on Instagram, which often feature various cosmetic procedures and injections that Hollywood stars undergo.

This creates an unattainable standard for people living regular lives who cannot afford these beauty procedures. As a result, we find ourselves in a world that has become detached from reality, where the natural appearance of a human being is increasingly obscured. This disconnect causes more and more stress, especially for younger generations who, at an age as young as 13, begin to immerse themselves in social media. They are exposed to these unrealistic beauty standards and often suffer as they compare themselves to faces that are not genuinely representative of real people.

AK: Toxic reminds me of the movie Guide to Recognizing Your Saints by Dito Montiel, which I watched some time ago. It was a male narrative with converging or diverging themes of self-discovery and adolescence. What movies have inspired you to make your debut movie?

SB: My initial inspiration for this film came from a documentary I watched a few years ago called Girl Model. It premiered at the Toronto Film Festival in 2011 and was directed by David Redmon and Ashley Sabin. The film follows two main characters: one is a former model who now works as a model scout, traveling the Trans-Siberian Railroad in Russia to cast models in remote towns. The other is a 13-year-old girl from one of these towns who travels to Japan to work as a model and faces numerous struggles there.

The documentary addresses the system of recruiting models and sending them to Asian countries, where many are taken advantage of and end up in debt without earning any money. Their parents often have to repay these institutions. I found the imagery to be striking – seeing these very thin girls who don’t speak any English at castings, while their parents are excited that they’ve been selected for what seems like an opportunity for a better life in an otherwise limited job market.

I was deeply inspired by this film because it echoed my own experiences. When I was around the same age, modeling recruitment was quite popular in the Baltic States where I grew up. Sometimes scouts would come to schools and ask all the girls to stand up in class and select potential model candidates, inviting them to meet later. This experience made me want to explore the themes of beauty standards and the pressures young girls face, ultimately leading to the creation of my project.

AK: Winning the Pardo d’Oro at the 77th Locarno International Film Festival is quite an achievement! How was your experience in Locarno, and what are your next steps with the film?

SB: Locarno was our world premiere, and we have a number of festivals lined up this autumn. I believe we will receive invitations to more festivals after winning this prestigious award in the upcoming weeks. I’ll be traveling to some of these festivals, and I think the sales agents will be working on distribution as well. Hopefully this year will be a good one for the film.

I genuinely want this film to reach countries that can relate to the issues it portrays. The experience at the Locarno Festival was amazing; local attendees participated actively during the screenings, asking many questions and showing their appreciation for the film. However, I did receive questions from some Swiss audience members that came from a very privileged perspective, asking things like, “Is this real life? Does this really happen to girls in your country?“

I responded by suggesting they travel outside of Europe. Lithuania is not the worst place; there are so many other places in Asia and South America where people are plagued by hunger and struggle to make a living every day. In those societies, individuals often resort to extreme measures to escape a cycle of poverty, where opportunities for themselves or their children are scarce.

These vulnerable populations are particularly susceptible to predatory behavior from institutions and people who prey on their desperation. When you offer them a dream, they might become deeply interested and end up in situations where they take extreme actions in a desperate attempt to achieve that promised dream. This is a reality in our world, but many people simply do not see or understand it.

AK: It’s been five years since you began working on this movie. Can you talk about the facilities available in your country and the financial support you received?

SB: Our funding is entirely from national sources in Lithuania. Many of my peers and I have benefited from this support. In fact, about 10 or 12 years ago the Lithuanian Film Center restructured its system and established a separate section dedicated to funding debut films. As a result, they allocate a certain amount of money each year for at least one project. This program has significantly enabled many emerging directors, including myself, to receive funding for their debut films.

AK: What do you see as the next steps in your creative career?

SB: I have an idea for another film, and I really want to find the right way to tell the story I have in mind. I’m eager to explore a different approach to filmmaking and engage in a process that feels fresh and exciting. Right now, I can’t imagine myself just sitting at my computer to write a script. Perhaps I will participate in a writer’s residency or begin researching the topic I want to explore. I’m not sure what my path will be, but I know I want to do something experimental that excites me. The idea that I’ve established a formula by having made one film and then simply continue trying to recreate that same process is not appealing to me. I’ve invested a lot of effort into crafting a filmmaking journey that both I and my team can feel passionate about.

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