During the Berlinale, when all of Berlin turns its eyes to the screen and cinema takes center stage, Soho House became the setting for a special guest. Austrian actress Susanne Wuest moves between arthouse cinema and international productions, plays characters who stay with you long after the credits roll, and won the Jury Prize at Cannes in 2025. Christian Bracht spoke with her about the nature of creativity, the mechanics of award culture and the long road from script to screen.<\/p>\n"},{"acf_fc_layout":"text_area","text_area":"
Christian Bracht: <\/strong>You work between arthouse cinema and international productions, between European sets and the rest of the world. How do you experience that range?<\/p>\n Susanne Wuest:<\/strong> I feel at home moving between different worlds. The industry is international by nature, and my work takes me wherever the story needs to be: Europe, and beyond. Each set has its own rhythm, but the goal is always the same \u2013 to tell something truthful.<\/p>\n CB: <\/strong>How did acting begin for you and how has it changed over time?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> It started very early. I loved reading as a child, and I wanted to give stories another dimension by playing them. My little sister had to join in. When I realized grown-ups do this too, I thought: I want to do this forever. At some point it becomes a profession, and if you\u2019re lucky, it still feels like what it did as a child, like passion, like privilege. CB: <\/strong>Your characters rarely make it easy for the audience. Is that a conscious choice, or do those roles find you?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> It\u2019s both. Sometimes the complexity is already in the writing, and sometimes it\u2019s about how you look at it. I like approaching a character the way you\u2019d look at ingredients: a potato can just be a potato or it can become gnocchi. I enjoy turning things around, viewing them from different angles, and choosing the version that feels most alive \u2013 ideally in agreement with the director.<\/p>\n CB: <\/strong>You work across arthouse cinema and large-scale productions. What does each give you that the other can\u2019t?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> My heart is with arthouse. There\u2019s nothing like a director telling their own story \u2013 the purity of it. On a small set, it\u2019s just the core crew, the director, the work. It can feel like making something in a friend\u2019s garage: nothing exists except the story you\u2019re building together. CB: <\/strong>How much of your training is still with you and how much have you left behind?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> It changes with every production, and it\u2019s almost entirely down to the director. I try to forget everything I know to stay open. But of course, specific skills remain useful when a role demands something technical.<\/p>\n CB: <\/strong>Text work and memorizing long scenes, how do you do it? Are there tricks?<\/p>\n SW: <\/strong>It\u2019s simpler than people think: it\u2019s training. The brain adapts. I never start with the text. I start with the structure: like skiing down a slope and knowing you have to hit certain marks. Once the path is clear, the text lays over it. CB: <\/strong>Was there a career decision that felt wrong at the time but turned out to be one of your best?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> No. I\u2019ve made some truly stupid decisions. I once turned down a script because I thought it was too strange and it became a huge success. It could\u2019ve saved me ten years. But I won\u2019t say which film. It\u2019s too embarrassing.<\/p>\n CB: <\/strong>What label keeps getting assigned to you and how do you feel about it?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> If people can assign something to me, that\u2019s a compliment. I\u2019m not sure where it comes from, maybe something very Austrian: a morbid sense of humor, and a tendency to approach even \u201cbad\u201d characters with warmth. CB: <\/strong>Have you ever done comedy? Would you want to?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> No, but I would love to. Comedy is difficult. Being funny is not easy at all. CB: <\/strong>What does personal artistic success mean to you?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> It means everything, if it allows me to keep doing what I love. The greatest privilege is being invited into other people\u2019s worlds: traveling, meeting different cultures, joining visions. If \u201csuccess\u201d is what grants access to that, then I owe it a lot.<\/p>\n CB: <\/strong>What was the first award experience that genuinely meant something to you or taught you something?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> My first major experience was very early, with a film that did incredibly well \u2013 Austria\u2019s submission for the Oscars. I was na\u00efve and thought: great, now things will get easier. Then I was unemployed for two years. CB: <\/strong>After a major prize like Cannes, what actually changes, privately, on a Monday morning, reading the next script?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> My feeling doesn\u2019t really change. The practical hope is that an award gives the film visibility, especially important for arthouse, because it needs that awareness to reach audiences. CB: <\/strong>Do awards create freedom, pressure \u2013 can it be both?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> People expect a big immediate shift, but it\u2019s slower than that. Major moments take years to \u201cshed a skin.\u201d It\u2019s one step in a long path. CB: <\/strong>When you read a script, do you ever think: this has huge award potential?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> Sometimes. There are scripts that feel extraordinary. But film is a long journey \u2014 so many things can go wrong: weather, funding, logistics, post-production, timing, whether it hits a nerve. You can make a brilliant film and still not find an audience \u2014 or it can be recognized decades later. So yes, you can sense festival potential, but you never know.<\/p>\n CB: <\/strong>How honest is the award system \u00a0and who decides what gets seen?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> The person with the biggest budget decides what gets seen. CB: <\/strong>Do you believe festivals like Cannes or Venice reward the most artistic films?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> I want to believe that truly. But \u201chonesty\u201d is complicated. Even choosing dinner with a family shows you how consensus works: sometimes it\u2019s not the top choice for everyone, but what people can agree on. CB: <\/strong>What role does the Berlinale play compared to other festivals?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> Every festival has its own \u201ccolor.\u201d Berlin has a reputation for being political, and it happens at a particular time of year. It\u2019s important! Not only culturally, but as an industry vehicle. We\u2019re lucky to have it here.<\/p>\n CB: <\/strong>As a juror, how much responsibility do you feel, knowing choices can shape careers and which stories exist?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> There\u2019s real responsibility, especially for first-time filmmakers. Winning or losing can change someone\u2019s trajectory for years. CB: <\/strong>Should emerging artists work toward awards?<\/p>\n SW: <\/strong>No. Honestly, no. If you chase awards, you start making compromises, and that can hurt your craft and distort your choices. Happiness comes from a different place \u2013 authenticity, love for the work. You can become famous or wealthy and still feel far from why you started.<\/p>\n CB: <\/strong>If you could redesign awards from scratch, what would you reward?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> I would reward courage and vulnerability, not polish. It shouldn\u2019t matter if everything is \u201cperfect\u201d: sound, light, surface. Life isn\u2019t perfect. <\/p>\n Audience: <\/strong>Was there a role that changed how you see life and what inspires you behind the scenes?<\/p>\n Susanne Wuest:<\/strong> Every role shifts something. It\u2019s hard to name just one. Often, what changes me most is watching my scene partner what they do can elevate everything. A: <\/strong>What did theater teach you that film benefits from and what can filmmakers learn from theater?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> Theater teaches discipline and care: you look after your costume, your props, every department \u2013 because no one will rescue you if you\u2019re careless. You also learn to work with your whole body. A: <\/strong>Using your cooking metaphor, what ingredients do you look for in a script, and how long does it take to truly immerse yourself in a role?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> I look for a challenge, something that asks more of me. I also look for a director who is consequential: someone who tells the story at all costs, without compromise, and without judging the characters. A: <\/strong>Looking back, were the sacrifices worth it? And how do you see your younger self now?<\/p>\n SW:<\/strong> For me, I didn\u2019t have much of a choice. I knew early that I needed focus. I missed certain experiences; I grieved that at the time, but I walked into it with open eyes.
\nBut acting itself, being on set, is maybe 20% of what I do. The other 80% is a completely different business, and most of it happens at a desk.<\/p>\n
\nWith bigger budgets, more voices enter the room, often for legitimate reasons, but it can dilute that core. Nothing compares to that intimacy and singular vision.<\/p>\n
\nThe most valuable skill, though, is letting go of what I think and synchronizing with the director and my scene partner.<\/p>\n
\nI take writing extremely seriously. Maybe more seriously than any other department. I test even the strangest lines and ask: what if this was true? That can lead to uncomfortable places, but it can also make something honest. And yes \u2013 I die in almost every film.<\/p>\n
\nAnd I think humor is essential: it\u2019s how we get through life. Even in drama, there\u2019s always a grain of humor or longing that makes life livable. I\u2019d love to explore that.<\/p>\n
\nThat taught me something fundamental: an award means nothing for the individual \u2013 it\u2019s spotlight, awareness. It can help a film commercially, bring funding back, but for one person\u2019s life, it doesn\u2019t magically change anything. I don\u2019t trust awards.<\/p>\n
\nBut personally, I keep going. Even during Cannes, I was bouncing between shoots: Cardiff, London, Nice, Cannes. And I was relieved to return to set, because that felt like real life again. I love the team and the filmmaker deeply, and I want the film to thrive, but for myself, I just continue. I still don\u2019t trust it.<\/p>\n
\nThe ups don\u2019t matter as much as people think, and the downs don\u2019t either. You keep walking. Awareness grows, opportunities shift, but it\u2019s rarely a sudden \u201cmy life changed overnight.\u201d And pressure? I don\u2019t really feel it.<\/p>\n
\nThere are different kinds of awards: artistic ones, and marketing-driven ones. The Oscars, for example, are heavily marketing-driven \u2013campaigns, PR, advertising, networking, strategy. A big festival is only the beginning; you still need immense resources and sustained attention to stay in the race.<\/p>\n
\nAnd before awards, there\u2019s the selection process long, complex, shaped by many factors. So: I hope the most artistic work is honored, but it\u2019s never pure.<\/p>\n
\nAt the same time, I try not to play God. You can\u2019t decide who \u201cdeserves\u201d a career. Sometimes it\u2019s even good not to win immediately. I try to focus on the films and the work, without interfering emotionally with people\u2019s futures.<\/p>\n
\nI\u2019d reward the attempt to tell something deeply human, even if it fails, the artist trying to make gnocchi out of potatoes and not quite succeeding, but daring to try.<\/p>\n
\nInspiration comes from tiny things: listening to someone tell a story, being in conversation. Sometimes I\u2019d rather hear a story told than read it on the page. And yes, I love cooking.<\/p>\n
\nAnd you learn something crucial: you take the written word apart again and again, finding every meaning, then you throw it away and do it fresh. Theater also trains imagination: creating in an empty room.
\nThat helps enormously on film, especially under extreme conditions \u2013 4 a.m., night shoots, exhaustion \u2013 and still having to hit the moment as if it\u2019s the first time. Improvisation, too.<\/p>\n
\nTruth matters. People do everything you can imagine and storytelling has to face that. I\u2019m drawn to roles where I can explore the \u201cwhy,\u201d even in the darkest character \u2013 like asking what pain made the witch want to push someone into an oven. That kind of truth is hard, and I love it.<\/p>\n
\nThe job requires balance, like any extreme sport. You miss birthdays, you\u2019re often away. But I\u2019ve been lucky: I have loyal, patient friends, and when it gets too much, I call and say, \u201cDon\u2019t give up on me.\u201d That\u2019s how you keep the human part intact.<\/p>\n"}]},"yoast_head":"\n