Markus Tangre's pulling the strings of a YDA win

Tell us about Ivar and what the inspiration behind it was?

I’ve been fascinated by the idea of treating puppets with the same sincerity as humans, and using them to tell an intimate story that could still feel relatable, even if the puppets are some of the wackiest looking characters you’ve seen. I discussed some concepts with screenwriter Signe Damman Anker, and she came up with this sweet little text that felt like a perfect thing to explore in this context: an honest inner monologue about wanting to leave your husband.

What happens when you take two puppet characters and place them in a sad and bleak Norwegian 70s kitchen, and force upon them real-life problems?

I then started shaping the film around that. Growing up in Norway also meant being exposed to a great dose of Eastern European animation on TV, and I was always fascinated and a little freaked out by the handmade and slightly eerie atmosphere of those shows. I wanted to lean into some of that with this film. I think it’s fun to explore the dark and gritty, and I think it opens up for a lot of humour. Like what happens when you take two puppet characters and place them in a sad and bleak Norwegian 70s kitchen, and force upon them real-life problems?

Above: The trailer for Ivar, which is currently on the festival circuit.

Had you worked with puppetry before, and why was puppetry the best way to tell this story?

I’ve been making puppets since I was probably 10, once my grandmother taught me how to use the sewing machine. I’ve always been intrigued by the fact that you know that what you’re watching is real, yet you don’t really understand how it works and what’s making it move. We’re used to seeing puppets as being quite whimsical and silly, but I think it’s more fun to go in the opposite direction, and seeing what happens when you tone down their performance and give them real, human emotions. 

We’re used to seeing puppets as being quite whimsical and silly, but I think it’s more fun to go in the opposite direction.

I feel that expressing those emotions through that unblinking stare of a puppet face can make whatever they’re trying to say feel strangely more universal, even for someone who’s not a woman in their fifties trying to end their marriage

How long have you been a director, and what's your background and route into the industry?

I’ve always been making things, and whatever I did as a kid it was always about film in some form or another. After studying filmmaking in London, I ended up working in post for a long time at Bacon in Oslo, where I gradually moved onto the role of director’s assistant for a lot of different commercial projects. I’m really glad to have taken this route, as it’s made me really confident in what goes on in post production, as well as given me a chance to work with and learn from so many great directors, and with so many different kinds of directors. I’ve enjoyed mixing a lot of different influences in this film. I think it’s fun borrowing elements and techniques from more serious leaning art house cinema and combining it with something quite dumb that people don’t expect to take seriously.

Above: Director and puppeteer Markus Tangre.

Can you tell us about the design of Ivar and his wife and the other characters in the film; how did you come up with the look of them and their world?

I spend a lot of time figuring out the visual language of a project. I love to storyboard and animate quite planned-out animatics, and doing mood boards for any tiny prop in the film. For the puppets, it’s usually way more loose. All the puppets are made by me and co-puppeteer David Bjørnstad. We start out with rough sketches and references, but the characters always end up revealing their true selves as we build them. 

Suddenly an eye got a little too big or a crooked mouth makes them frown in a funny way, and then that ends up becoming a defining character trait. We ended up building most things from scratch in the film. And, in making a film like this, where everything is constructed, every detail is important to build the world. If you skip out on the details, then you don’t really buy it anymore.

We start out with rough sketches and references, but the characters always end up revealing their true selves as we build them. 

So, for their apartment, I wanted it to look completely mundane, but also lived-in and a place where you feel like these two people had spent years stuck in the same routines. Which made me think a lot of Mike Leigh and the photographs of Richard Billingham, as well as looking at the typical Norwegian concrete apartment blocks of the 70s. At the same time I wanted to give the film a sort of timeless or time-ambiguous look, where you can’t really sense when it’s made. Or, going back to the Eastern European influences, making it feel like some old tape dug out of the archives.

Above: Images from Markus Tangre's short Ivar.

The VO is amazing, world-weary and dry but fully engaging; who is it and how did you find them? 

That is fabulous Norwegian actress Tone Mostraum. We had her in mind early in the process, and once her voice got linked to the puppet it really completed the character, and just letting her approach it with complete honesty is what makes it work, I think.

Is Ivar about a man who's not as bad as he seems, a woman who can't bring herself to leave him, both, or neither?

I think it’s mostly about exploring those very private moments where you can let your thoughts be as honest as possible, and vent internally to the point where they’re almost absurdly mean; even if they’re completely uncalled for. When we finally get a glimpse of the real Ivar sitting on the bed next to her, I think it’s up for interpretation whether she truly hates him or just ended up a bit too deep into her own thought spiral. But I do suspect she’ll be lying awake with the same nagging questions tomorrow night, and the night after that too.

What was the most challenging aspect in making Ivar?

Directing and puppeteering at the same time, I would say, is one of them. We shoot using classic hand-and-rod puppets, performed live-action from below the sets, and once the puppet is on the arm you’re kind of stuck there for a while, looking at the monitor crouched under a bed. 

Technically, figuring out how two puppets can ride a motorcycle or sit on a bed and kiss realistically, means we have to experiment and do a lot of tests in advance.

Technically, figuring out how two puppets can ride a motorcycle or sit on a bed and kiss realistically, means we have to experiment and do a lot of tests in advance, but it’s fantastic once you figure out how to make something work and then finally see it play out on set. That experimentation is definitely one of my favourite parts of the process.

Above: Behind the scenes on Ivar. 

What did you learn from making the film?

Being such a small and intimate crew meant that everyone was very hands on in the creative conversations all the time, and a project like this really needs that. Also, the response the film has received has been incredibly rewarding, and has been encouraging me in a way to trust my own style and keep pushing the creativity further.

What do you hope other people take away from seeing Ivar?

I’ve been surprised with how many people recognise themselves or their own situation in this film, both young couples and my own grandparents. My friend’s dad was also reminded of the handsome leather-clad biker at their local pub he was always secretly suspicious of. 

I’ve been surprised with how many people recognise themselves or their own situation in this film, both young couples and my own grandparents. 

So, it seems to trigger something different in people. Again, I think the abstract nature of the puppets might help the audience project themselves into the characters a little, instead of reading too literally into the scenarios. I also like to hope that the fact that it’s all hand-made and physically there in front of the camera plays a little part in how you connect with it.