29Sep

“Soft Floating in the Fields of Spheres” – Behind The Scenes – Interview with Kristina Lorent Goztola – Macoproject

by Jonah Blog

Albert Einstein wrote in 1955, following the death of a close friend: “The distinction between past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.” This quote resonates deeply with the philosophical core of the film.

The story follows Rebecca, a Viennese ceramic artist, on an intimate, spiritual journey across four different timelines.

We spoke to writer and key cast member Kristina Lorent Goztola on her embodiment of the role.

★★★★★

You embody Rebecca with great intimacy and depth. How did you first connect with her, and what drew you to this role?

The story of this film holds a very central place in my career. Although Rebecca’s story is entirely fictional, its writing was born out of a very personal grief — a family tragedy that needed an outlet. When Peter Korday first said he wanted to turn it into a film, to be honest, I was against it. On one hand, the text felt far too personal, too intimate. On the other, I couldn’t imagine how a monodrama-like piece could be translated to the screen without becoming overly sentimental, rather than truthful. But as I began to approach Rebecca as an actress, I realized that while her journey is very female-driven, the core question the film explores is universal. If it resonates deeply with even a single viewer, then it has already fulfilled its purpose. Preparing for Rebecca required deep introspection — I had to dig very far into myself — and I knew this film had to speak in silence. For that reason, I embraced a simplicity-based approach. My wonderful mentor, Jack Waltzer, who worked with legends like Dustin Hoffman, Sharon Stone, and Susan Sarandon, always reminded me: in the most deeply layered scenes, even if the camera shows the full face, the truth of the character must be carried through the eyes.

What was your personal approach in preparing to portray such a layered and emotionally complex character?

If you look from the outside, Rebecca and I could not be more different. I don’t have children, and I would never behave as she does or make the same choices she makes. In a strict sense, Rebecca could even be seen as a negative character — she makes mistake after mistake. And yet, she is deeply human and, in her own way, lovable. That complexity was what fascinated me: human nature is never black and white, but full of contradictions and colors.

My goal was to let the audience feel that life is not about living without mistakes, but about learning, growing, and finding the courage to forgive ourselves.

During the shoot, Peter Korday – with whom I’ve had the privilege of working several times before, and whose directing I truly value — created an intimate, almost family-like atmosphere with a small crew. That environment allowed me to go deeper than usual. While shaping Rebecca, I asked myself a question as a sort of inner exercise: what if this were the last role I could ever play? How would I want to portray it, and what would I want to leave behind with it?

That thought became a compass. I wanted the audience, after the first twenty minutes, not to see Rebecca, not even the actress, but to recognize something of themselves in the story.

Rebecca is a ceramic artist — did you find parallels between her creative process and your own process as an actress?

I believe that every artist — whether a dancer, musician, or painter — instinctively brings something deeply personal into their work. With Rebecca, it was no different. For her, the ceramic figures are projections of her subconscious: her desires, her fears, fragments of her inner life. Each piece she creates is not just an object, but a part of her story, much like a canvas and brush allow a painter to reveal their emotions and thoughts. As artists, we are fortunate — our joys, our sorrows, and even our disappointments can find expression through our craft. In that sense, art becomes a form of psychological therapy, a way of transforming the intangible into something visible and shared.

How did you navigate the physical and emotional demands of the hospital scenes, which feel so immediate and raw?

During filming, we deliberately aimed to break the seemingly romantic sequences with the stark realism of the hospital scenes. For authenticity, the surgical moments were performed by an actual practicing surgeon. That’s why every movement you see on screen is completely genuine. Lying there while a real surgeon simulated life-saving procedures on me — on Rebecca — was both shocking and deeply moving. What struck me as well was how focused and disciplined the crew became during these scenes. Even for them, it was extraordinary, almost unsettling, to witness such realism up close.

Many of your past roles have been in English-language productions, often alongside well-known American names. How does stepping into the French arthouse world feel different for you as an actress?

It was a wonderful experience to work with Jason Clarke and Rosamund Pike and to witness the discipline and focus with which Hollywood stars approach their craft. That energy had a lasting impact on me, and shaped how I approach my work. I had the privilege of playing opposite Jason Clarke as Christine Wiegel in The Man with the Iron Heart, directed by French film director Cédric Jimenez.

2015 was another turning point in my life, when I was invited to the Avignon Theatre Festival to perform in Matei Vișniec’s two-person drama about the Yugoslav war. Out of more than 1,200 productions, our play was honored as the second-best performance of the festival. That was the beginning of my love affair with France and its culture.

While English-language films remain an important part of my work — given my American and British mentors and my desire to stay connected to the mainstream — I feel that the French arthouse world is where I find the deepest artistic fulfillment. It allows me to write, perform, and follow the life of the film itself. This genre allows me to explore the complexity and beauty of the human soul in its most profound form.

Having worked internationally, do you feel your acting style has evolved or adapted depending on the cultural and cinematic environment you’re in?

The greatest confidence in my work comes from the foundation I learned from my American mentors — the Meisner technique and the so-called simplicity of performance.But I deeply value cultural diversity. As actors, we must constantly evolve, just as our personalities do. I travel a lot, and I love observing people in different countries — the way a southern temperament expresses joy is very different from a northern one. Cultures vary, but I truly believe the human soul is universal: our joys and sorrows are shared, no matter where we live. I’ve also noticed how different it is to work with an Italian director compared to a German one. Wherever I go, I bring my own toolkit, but I also adapt and refine myself to the task at hand. At the end of the day, I believe the most important qualities are individuality and authenticity.

You are also credited as a co-producer, though your main focus here was acting. How did being involved behind the scenes influence your performance in front of the camera?

In 2024, together with Peter Korday, I co-founded Gold Wood Pictures in Paris, where I also serve as president. After producing two independent short films, we completed our first feature, Flottant légèrement dans les Champs des Sphères / Soft Floating in the Fields of Spheres. We are especially proud that both the company and the film received CNC registration — a true mark of quality in France.

While my producer’s role mainly involves guiding projects at a conceptual level, on set I deliberately step back and focus solely on being an actress. Knowing that the production is in secure and professional hands gave me the freedom to surrender completely to Rebecca’s inner world. At the same time, since founding the company I’ve become far more selective as an actress: I now only join projects that feel fully transparent and professionally grounded. That sense of security behind the camera allows me to go deeper in front of it.

What was the most surprising discovery you made about yourself while bringing Rebecca to life?

As actors, it’s natural that we long for love, recognition, and the approval of the audience. But I can honestly say this was the first role in my life where I didn’t want to please anyone. I wasn’t trying to prove myself or to be liked. What mattered most was that, through Rebecca’s journey, people could reflect on their own stories.

Working with Peter Korday — with whom I’ve collaborated on several projects — was special in this sense. Often during filming, he trusted silence and simply observed me. I could feel how carefully he guided me, sometimes with only the subtlest direction. I deeply appreciate that way of working: when a director knows exactly when to take half a step back and let the actor breathe, and then step forward again to gently guide the performance.

European auteur cinema often asks actors to embrace silence, ambiguity, and subtlety rather than exposition. How did this influence your performance in Soft Floating in the Fields of Spheres?

I began my career as a musical theatre actress, singing and dancing in front of 800–1000 people. Naturally, I used large gestures on stage. What captivated me about film was the exact opposite: that in front of the camera, the actor becomes stripped down and vulnerable — and it is precisely this fragility that makes the performance truthful. This is also what draws me to auteur cinema: I believe it seeks to capture the unspoken, even the unspeakable, on screen. It requires deep trust — both from the director in the actor, and from the actor in themselves — to allow silence to carry the weight of a moment. For me, this is where I rely on the so-called simplicity approach. We also felt it was essential that the film have original music, and Peter, as director, gave great attention to ensuring that each frame was matched with a score that truly mirrored its emotional resonance.

What does this story mean to you personally, beyond the character — did it resonate with your own experiences or reflections?

This role demanded a great deal from me, yet it also gave me strength. Rebecca’s story touched my own life in profound ways. Although the film is a meditative drama with psychological layers — one could even call it a film about grief — we wanted its ending to carry a sense of hope. It is a story that speaks to everyone, though not necessarily at the same moment in their lives. Some viewers may only feel its impact years later, when they reach a certain stage in their own journey. But I believe it will resonate with all, because ultimately, it touches something universal.

You’ve spoken about finding your artistic home in Paris. What is it about French cinema that inspires you most?

For me, French cinema embodies both elegance and a touch of romance, yet it also carries a raw realism that dares to reveal life as it truly is. I often feel that French films don’t try to please or conform — instead, they lead, and invite the audience to follow, allowing themselves to be enchanted along the way. They delve deep into the human mind, sometimes tearing out emotions that are painful yet liberating. Nothing portrays love as both romantic and heartbreaking at the same time quite like French cinema. One of my personal favorites is Les Parapluies de Cherbourg by Jacques Demy.
How do you balance between the more mainstream projects you’ve done in the past and the deeply artistic path you’re carving now?
I don’t see a contradiction between the two paths. In fact, I began my career in the American–Canadian action TV series Painkiller Jane, which was my very first screen role. I also believe that my earlier mainstream work helps me flourish even more fully in the arthouse world.

Even today I continue to receive invitations to mainstream projects, and I value those experiences. Yet I feel that, deep down, the French arthouse cinema holds the greatest space in my heart. It is where I find the most profound opportunities and challenges as an actress to reveal true depth.

What was the collaboration with director Peter Korday like? Did his poetic, meditative style of filmmaking challenge you as an actress in new ways?

Peter’s filmmaking is deeply influenced by his many years as a theatre director, especially in opera and musical theatre. Since I also have a background in music, I often immediately understand what he means without many words. We have been working together for several years now, and I truly enjoy the collaboration. Because he himself was once an actor, he knows very well our so-called fears, and he approaches us with great sensitivity.

I remember during the shooting of our previous short film, the male lead was struggling with how to move his character physically, with his body language. Peter simply played the overture of Verdi’s La Traviata and, smiling, asked him to just start walking when he heard the music. The result was remarkable.

During the filming of Flottant légèrement dans les Champs des Sphères / Soft Floating in the Fields of Spheres, I experienced the same delicacy. In one scene, he started the camera without giving me any instruction, just waiting to see what would rise to the surface from deep within me. That trust in silence and in the actor’s inner world is what makes his directing style so unique, and for me, so inspiring.

Without revealing story details, what kind of emotional journey do you hope the audience will experience through Rebecca?
What I would love is for the audience, after the first 15–20 minutes, to stop seeing Rebecca — or me as the actress — and instead begin to recognize their own story within the film. Although it is a drama with psychological elements, even a story of grief in some ways, we wanted it to carry a sense of hope by the end. My father, who was a mathematician, and physicist, often spoke with me in his later years about quantum physics and about Einstein’s idea that energy never disappears, it only transforms. This thought deeply resonated with me during the making of the film, and I hope it resonates with the audience as well.

If you had to describe Rebecca in just three words, which ones would you choose — and why?

The story follows Rebecca, a Viennese ceramic artist, on an intimate, spiritual journey across four different timelines.

We spoke to writer and key cast member Kristina Lorent Goztola on her embodiment of the role.