James Sweeney’s ‘Twinless’ explores forgiveness, food and queer Asian storytelling

At the start of Twinless we meet Roman after his twin, Rocky (also played by O’Brien), has passed away in a car accident. Roman is a cyclone of warring emotions: vengeful at the driver who struck Rocky, regretful that he and Rocky didn’t end things on the best of terms, and feeling aimless about how to move on without his brother to support him.

Desperate, he attends a twin bereavement group and meets Dennis, with the two striking up an immediate bromance. Yet as we learn more about Dennis, we see how he has a darker connection to the twins. To say more of the plot threatens to spoil the capricious pleasures of Sweeney’s film, which explores the fallout of when an already neurotic soul labors to maintain a lie.

Sweeney’s film is concerned with what it means to forgive oneself when one has committed an unspeakable wrong, how self-loathing can isolate us from a community that’s ready to forgive us, and how withholding honesty may save us from pain in the moment, but corrodes us from the inside. 

Sweeney spoke with JoySauce about what he thinks the significance of the food is in the film, learning to embrace interruptions as he creates, and how he sees Twinless as a story about the grace of forgiveness.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

Zachary Lee: I went into Twinless expecting to laugh and maybe cry, but I didn’t expect to walk away hungry. Sandwiches, marshmallows, cookies, Pop-Tarts, your camera fixates on these and more. What do you see as the significance of the food in the film?
James Sweeney: It’s funny because you’re the first person who's ever even pointed that out. It’s an interesting observation. I love food, and anything I love in real life ends up in my movies. Regarding the sequences with the marshmallows and the Pop-Tart, I was trying to capture memories from Roman's childhood that were meaningful to him and how those elements played a part in his journey of solace. Those are staples of being young and carefree. The sandwich has a greater arc in the film. 

ZL: Can you talk about the role of disruption in your creative process, and whether any disruptions on the set of Twinless may have made a better film than you had envisioned?
JS: That’s a great question. In this film, I'm wearing so many hats, and I try to come to the set as prepared as I can. I have a clear shot list, agenda, and visual language I’m going for, and the more prepared I am, the more confident I feel to allow room for spontaneity. I’m more ready to capture that lightning as it strikes and arises as a result. If I have a rule book, I then feel more comfortable breaking a rule.

In terms of unexpected moments in this film, the pivots generally didn’t happen necessarily on set. The final week of pre-production, we got hit by the second-worst snowstorm in Portland's history, and we didn't have all our locations locked down. That turned into a kind of snowball [Laughs] effect where we had to rearrange things. On a more minute level, there’s a moment where Dylan told me that he wanted to improvise for a scene, and it’s that moment where we run into Chris Perfetti’s George character. In that moment, Roman has monologues about what he’d do to the person he found responsible for Rocky’s death. I had no idea what Dylan was going to say, and I could not hold it together.

ZL: You and your director of photography, Greg Cotten, have cited Brian De Palma as an influence. I’d love to hear about the use of split diopters, the mirror window zooms, the split screens. What prompted some of those aesthetic accouterments? There’s a version of the film that could have felt gimmicky, but you deploy them very purposefully.
JS: Developing the visual grammar is always, for me, making sure it's in service of theme and story, and propelling it forward. I think if you can manage to make the cinematography coalesce with the narrative, it should enhance and not distract. Of course, you always run the risk of it not being received the way you intend, but Greg and I tried to be very intentional with any tricks we used. I also take joy in the little things, from how subtle costume choices are subliminally about the layered themes that are going on that the audience isn't going to necessarily get, but is there for me.

ZL: You also shot this both on 35mm and digital, and it was fun, on second viewing, to determine the intention behind when the film would shift from one format to the other.
JS: Yeah, Greg and I didn't want to pronounce it too much. We also wanted to make sure the cinematography was cohesive and did not feel like two completely disparate movies. My cinematographer and I often debate about what actually gives film its “look.” Even in the opening act, we’re dollies first, and then when we switch perspectives, we introduce the zoom. These choices are an exploration of this theme of authenticity as opposed to artifice.

ZL: What moved me about Twinless was that it’s steeped in the particularities of being a queer Asian story. In watching The Wedding Banquet—which also premiered at this year’s Sundance, like Twinless—and talking with Andrew Ahn, we were discussing how exciting it is for queer Asian filmmakers to tell their stories. Does it ever hit you that you’re a part of this emerging canon?
JS: I love Andrew, and I'm so honestly thankful for him because it takes some of the pressure off of me [Laughs]. Especially because having to deal with questions of how empathetic or likable my character is, I don't want to have to contend with being the face of Asian queer cinema, and I don't think that I am, or anybody's putting me on that pedestal, which is a relief. I just want people to enjoy the movie on its own merits and not have to conflate it with all these other political or representational pressures. That's how I feel about film in general; I want to create work that hopefully feels timeless.

ZL: I think one of the most touching elements of this film is how it details the arduous nature of learning not just to forgive others but also ourselves. I think of what Roman says: “Because if I don’t have the pain…it’s really gone…and I’m actually alone.” How has working on this film recontextualized your relationship with forgiveness?
JS: I think forgiveness is, to me, one of the most quietly powerful acts that makes us human. I think forgiveness is not only for the forgiven, but for the forgiver. There’s that classic line of “don’t go to bed angry.” I think that feeds the soul. And that’s a quality I aspire to imbue whenever I get frustrated. This is a very frustrating industry, but that’s where something like Marcie’s optimism is my North Star. I’ll never quite get there, but it’s something I’m aspiring for.

I’ll paraphrase something Sofia Coppola said, but she shared something to the effect of, “Directing is creating the world as you want it to be.” That’s how I approach my work: what I am putting out there into the world that hopefully reflects the world as is, but also reflects the world as it could be.