{"id":41480,"date":"2026-04-15T00:24:22","date_gmt":"2026-04-15T07:24:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/behindthelensonline.net\/site\/?p=41480"},"modified":"2026-04-15T00:34:02","modified_gmt":"2026-04-15T07:34:02","slug":"anton-sigurdsson-refuge-interview","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/behindthelensonline.net\/site\/interviews\/interview-exclusives\/anton-sigurdsson-refuge-interview\/","title":{"rendered":"Blood, Brutality, Suspicion and Duct Tape: ANTON SIGURDSSON on the Craft of REFUGE – Exclusive Interview"},"content":{"rendered":"

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Photo by Diane Hull<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

There\u2019s something deceptively simple about the premise of REFUGE<\/strong><\/a>. Four longtime friends gather at a remote cabin. One of them\u2014Sam\u2014has never recovered from the disappearance of his young daughter four years ago. Grief lingers. Questions fester. His young daughter’s diary entries consume him.\u00a0 And before long, suspicion turns inward, accusations fly, and the walls\u2014both literal and emotional\u2014begin to close in.<\/p>\n

But as writer\/director Anton Sigurdsson reveals, REFUGE is anything but simple. What unfolds on screen as a brutal, blood-soaked psychological thriller is, at its core, a meticulously engineered exercise in visual and sonic storytelling\u2014one built under pressure, on the fly, and, in more ways than one, discovered in the moment.<\/p>\n

Sigurdsson conceived REFUGE as what he calls \u201ca bottle film with a big heart\u201d\u2014a single-location, four-hander that leans heavily into performance and character dynamics. It\u2019s a structure that could easily have translated to the stage. But for Sigurdsson, the challenge\u2014and the opportunity\u2014was to make it unmistakably cinematic.<\/p>\n

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\u201cHow do you keep it visually compelling the whole time?\u201d he asks. \u201cHow do you reintroduce spaces and new sets inside a single location so people don\u2019t get bored?\u201d<\/p>\n

The answer lies in a carefully calibrated visual grammar developed in close collaboration with cinematographer Gunnar Audum Johansson, a longtime creative partner who instinctively understands Sigurdsson\u2019s instincts as both a storyteller and visual architect.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t like a lot of coverage. I like less coverage than [that] usually is, maybe done. And he understands that,\u201d Sigurdsson explains. \u201cAnd he\u2019s such a great operator\u2014how he operates the camera, the movement, all of that.\u201d<\/p>\n

That shared sensibility is key. Rather than relying on traditional coverage to build a scene in the edit, Sigurdsson and Johansson construct tension within the frame, allowing shots to breathe, performances to unfold in real time, and camera movement to carry emotional weight. It\u2019s a methodology that demands precision and trust\u2014and one that pays off in a film where every visual choice feels intentional.<\/p>\n

Together, they transform the cabin into a living, breathing environment\u2014one that evolves alongside the unraveling psyches of its inhabitants.<\/p>\n

Shot in a 4:3 aspect ratio, the film embraces a deliberately constricted frame, amplifying the claustrophobia that defines the narrative. Extreme close-ups press in on the actors, while Dutch angles subtly destabilize the viewer\u2019s sense of equilibrium. Camera placement becomes psychological positioning\u2014peering from upstairs to downstairs, around corners, into negative space\u2014each choice reinforcing the idea that no one in this house is ever fully at ease, or fully in the clear.<\/p>\n

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Behind-the-Scenes of REFUGE<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

\u201cThis could have been a play,\u201d Sigurdsson admits. \u201cBut I wanted it to look amazing\u2026we can kind of mix old school cinema in with a fresh wave of punk rock and roll.\u201d<\/p>\n

That tonal blending\u2014rooted in classical restraint but energized by something more volatile\u2014extends into every facet of the film\u2019s construction. And nowhere is that more evident than in the film\u2019s most unexpected assets: the basement\u2026and the lake.<\/p>\n

When Sigurdsson and his team first secured the Lake Placid cabin that would serve as their primary location, they designed the film without any knowledge of what lay below\u2014or just beyond.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe were told there was no basement,\u201d he recalls.<\/p>\n

Only upon arriving for prep did the truth reveal itself. And in that moment, everything changed.<\/p>\n

Standing in the newly discovered space alongside Johansson and production designer Jarrett Staaf, Sigurdsson immediately recognized the narrative and visual potential. The basement wasn\u2019t just an added location\u2014it was a tonal shift, a descent, a physical manifestation of the film\u2019s psychological undercurrents.<\/p>\n

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\u201cWe\u2019re looking at each other, going, \u2018This thing, that thing\u2026\u2019\u201d he says. \u201cAnd Gunnar is so quick on his feet\u2026we could make decisions right there.\u201d<\/p>\n

It\u2019s a moment that speaks volumes about Sigurdsson\u2019s instincts as a filmmaker. Rather than rigidly adhering to pre-planned structure, he embraces discovery, allowing environment to inform story in real time. That same instinct extended beyond the walls of the cabin.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe weren\u2019t supposed to shoot at that lake. We had another lake,\u201d he explains. \u201cBut then we see the lake, and we\u2019re like, we\u2019re doing it here\u2026It was just a few feet from us\u2026It had this amazing atmosphere in it. So we were very lucky once we figured where to shoot.\u201d<\/p>\n

That freedom to pivot\u2014to follow instinct rather than infrastructure\u2014is something Sigurdsson doesn\u2019t take lightly.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe weren\u2019t locked to a location because of tax rebate or anything,\u201d he notes, a reality that afforded him a level of creative autonomy rarely available to filmmakers working at this scale.<\/p>\n

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Behind-the-Scenes of REFUGE<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Working with a skeletal six-person crew and a lighting package small enough to fit in a standard vehicle, Sigurdsson and Johansson relied heavily on natural light and environmental conditions, shaping the look of the film in real time. The result is a visual language that feels at once controlled and organic\u2014precisely composed, yet alive to the moment.<\/p>\n

That same philosophy extends into Sigurdsson\u2019s decision to shoot chronologically, a rarity in modern filmmaking but one that proves invaluable here. \u201cA lot of the backstory and the character gallery that we had was kind of built by the cast alongside me. I also shoot in a chronological order, so we could see stuff happening in real time, and go back and change.\u201d<\/p>\n

With escalating violence, mounting emotional tension, and, yes, a significant amount of blood\u2014and duct tape\u2014the continuity benefits are obvious. But more importantly, the approach allows performances to build naturally over time.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt fuels the emotional tension,\u201d Sigurdsson notes, emphasizing how actors could track their characters\u2019 psychological descent in real time.<\/p>\n

If the visuals define the film\u2019s physical space, it is the sound design that gives REFUGE its pulse.<\/p>\n

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Sigurdsson approaches sound as narrative architecture, interrogating every auditory choice. \u201cWhy is this sound here? Why does it work?\u201d he asks. \u201cYou want to hear the house breathe.\u201d<\/p>\n

From the ambient acoustics of the cabin\u2014where voices carry differently from basement to upper floor\u2014to the interplay between silence, score, and environmental sound, REFUGE constructs a layered sonic landscape that mirrors its visual intensity. Working with a sound team in Denmark, Sigurdsson spent months refining this dimension, experimenting freely in post-production.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe could try things. Be creative. Nobody was looking over our shoulder saying no.\u201d<\/p>\n

That freedom manifests in bold choices, including unexpected musical textures and contrasts that heighten unease and draw viewers deeper into the film\u2019s psychological terrain.<\/p>\n

For all its technical precision, however, REFUGE never loses sight of its emotional core. At the center is a father\u2019s desperate need for answers, and a group of men whose shared history fractures under the weight of suspicion and buried truths. It\u2019s a dynamic Sigurdsson roots in personal experience, drawing from stories and personalities encountered in his upbringing in Iceland, while infusing the narrative with a distinctly Scandinavian tonal sensibility\u2014where even the darkest moments can carry a flicker of humor.<\/p>\n

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And then, of course, there\u2019s the duct tape.<\/p>\n

A recurring visual and practical element within the film\u2019s more brutal sequences, it became something of an unexpected production signature.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe blew our tape budget pretty quickly,\u201d Sigurdsson laughs. \u201cI think the duct tape budget was higher than the whole production design.\u201d<\/p>\n

For Sigurdsson, though, every element\u2014no matter how seemingly mundane\u2014serves the story. Whether it\u2019s the constriction of the frame, the breath of the house, or the tactile presence of something as simple\u2014and as essential\u2014as duct tape, REFUGE is built on the idea that tension lives in the details.<\/p>\n

And thanks to a filmmaker willing to pivot, adapt, and trust those details, it\u2019s a tension that never lets go.<\/p>\n

by debbie elias, exclusive interview 04\/14\/2026<\/p>\n

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Available now on Digital and On Demand<\/strong><\/em><\/span><\/p>\n