Interview by Carolin Desiree Becker, Photography by Daniel Roché In Conversation with Lilith Stangenberg Whether on stage in a theater or in front of the lens of well-known directors, Lilith Stangenberg is one of those actresses whose charisma breathes unique life into her roles. Lilith’s filmography encompasses a series of memorable characters, from a woman who develops a disturbingly sensual, yet nevertheless comprehensible relationship with a fierce wolf (Wild by Nicolette Krebitz, 2016), to a vampire in a Marxist summer romance (Bloodsuckers by Julian Radlmaier, 2021). Interview by Carolin Desiree Becker, Photography by Daniel Roché She inhabits her roles like a tailor-made dress – to the point of sometimes not being able to distinguish between them herself. Currently, Lilith stars as Ellen in the latest film by German director Matthias Glasner, who put out what is probably his most personal work this year, titled Dying. No light fare – but perhaps exactly what we need. Caption Description “There is nothing more boring than a table where everyone shares the same opinion.” Carolin Desiree Becker: Lilith, you’ve been acting for many years and have played a range of different characters. How much of Lilith is there in each of these roles, and how do you let go of the character after filming? Lilith Stangenberg: Every human being has something very unique and specific that sets them apart from their neighbors. This uniqueness is the most precious thing we have. Paradoxically, most people always try to suppress their strangeness and be like everyone else. Over the last few years, I have been very interested in the dark aspects of life and humanity. Almost obsessed with the brutality, the violence and the abyss. That was also reflected in my roles. The way when you call into the forest, it resonates. At one point, I noticed that my subconscious couldn’t tell whether I was acting or whether it’s real. So I realized that I have to be quite deliberate about what I let inside of me. I don’t have a method for finding my way in and out of films; it’s more intuitive. It’s always a journey. You can currently be seen as Ellen in Matthias Glaser’s new film, Dying, which premiered at the 74th Berlinale this year. What were your first thoughts on the script? I remember I found it astonishingly funny. When it comes to the very dark matters, it’s always wise to step through that door of humor. I love when that happens in movies. I really liked that tone of despair of all the characters in the script. When I met the director Matthias at my audition, I thought: Wow, he is exactly as full of despair as all the people in his script. That gave me trust in the whole thing. Later, I realized that every little detail is connected to a personal anecdote from his own life. I totally fell in love with that one scene where my character starts coughing during that concert which her brother conducts… I think I can relate to that sentiment – where you can no longer breathe in a room of bourgeois cultural symbolism. Dying is a radical, dark title and topic for a movie, to the point and without any embellishment. Are you afraid of dying as such? For myself, I’m not so afraid to die, but I hate it when people around me die, I feel I have no real knowledge of how to deal with it. But I like cemeteries; I feel quite comfortable there. No one feels disturbed when you cry. I just played Antigone at the Deutsches Schauspielhaus in Hamburg and she has that passionate look into death as into a distant home. That fascinates me; we should always have the dead ones in mind as well. I think our society deals quite strangely and sort of wrongly with the subject of death. We treat it as the opposite of life, but isn’t it just part of life? A form of conclusion. “Maybe that’s why all art and everyone is so obsessed with the female body and the sex and so on; maybe behind that is just the longing to return to the safety of the womb.” The film also sheds light on parent- child relationships in a rather unsparing and autobiographical way. What makes this connection as delicate and individual as it is universal? I think Dying is a deeply German film, German in every pore. Maybe that’s why it’s internationally appealing – because it’s so uncompromisingly personal? I think if you express something in art that really has something to do with yourself, then it can also be read in other spheres. Your character Ellen embodies a daughter who seeks the rush and ecstasy through extremes. What challenges does she struggle with? Ellen is somebody who doesn’t identify with those very common values of success, money, career, health and so on. She has this profound inner refusal of adulthood. I think she is looking for the highest form of intensity and tries to avoid any form of normality. She is an adventurer, a pirate. I think behind her constant desire to get drunk also lays a longing for death, a wish to dissolve. She kills something inside of her each time she gets drunk. The figure of the mother in particular enjoyed a kind of glorified image, especially in European films, one could argue. Meanwhile, more realistic portrayals are emerging. The relationship shown here is a lot cooler, does not show the social ideal of “classic motherly love.” Where does this idealized mother figure come from? I don’t know… I guess it’s always a very sacred relationship because we grow inside our mother’s belly before we are expelled into the world on our own. I think most people unconsciously look for that certain utopian closeness all their life. Maybe that’s why all art and everyone is so obsessed with the female body and the sex and so on; maybe behind that is just the longing to return to the safety of the womb. It’s so astonishing how many people here hate their mothers, almost everyone seems to carry a certain family trauma. It must be something cultural, something about our German or Western cultural conditioning. Different values often clash in parent!child relationships and we are no longer able to have a discussion. We also see this in the general social discourse, which only allows black and white views. Cancel culture, in particular, has been very prevalent in recent years. Why are we no longer able to discuss? Yes, that’s right, that’s really scary. There is nothing more boring than a table where everyone shares the same opinion. The cultural debate of the last few years sometimes reminds me of Stalinism, when films were chosen for having the right attitude rather than for being good. How do you experience the public discourse yourself? Extremely moralized, narrow- minded, one-sided and scared. Any form of disruption or outsiderism is immediately perceived as a threat and attempts are made to abolish it. Disorder is very important for the democratic system; we need chaos. I always go with Nietsche: “One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.” The consequences of this are also spilling over into our private lives, which are becoming increasingly politicized and, as you said, extremely moralized. A movie like Dying has a hyper- realistic, refreshing effect here. What does morality mean to you? I guess I am a very moralistic person. But I am fully aware of the corrosive power of morality. Especially in my art, I defend myself tooth and nail against correctness and prudishness. We are looking at what a new modern culture of conversation could look like, a “new wokeness.” How can we find our way back to each other? You have to endure “The Other.” Credits Photography Daniel Roché Styling Tabassom Charaf Styling Assistant Klaas Hammer Interview by Carolin Desiree Becker Talent Lilith Stangenberg Read Next Siniša: Just Don’t Take Them Seriously Marina Mónaco: A Leap Of Curiosity Berlin Rising: Designers Who Defined Berlin Fashion Week SS26