Durga Chew-Bose
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Durga Chew-Bose Montreal CA
Durga Chew-Bose is wearing a custom, oversized version of the Maxime Earrings.
Interview
Back home in Montreal, Durga is tidying up her son’s playroom. Fresh from a trip to Los Angeles, where her first film, an adaptation of the novel Bonjour Tristesse was featured at a festival, she reflects on her new role. Perhaps best known as an author and journalist, Durga Chew-Bose is also a screenwriter, a director and a mother, seamlessly balancing her creative endeavours with her personal life. Drawing from her deep-rooted love of cinema and her appreciation for storytelling, she infuses her work with a visual richness and emotional depth. A true partner in creation, Durga surrounds herself with passionate artists who share her curiosity and romantic approach to creation. We discussed her journey into directing, the ways motherhood has shaped her creative process, and her thoughts on finding balance in an increasingly fast-paced world.
Interviewed by Sofia Nebiolo
Photography Huy Luong
June 2025- N Congratulations on your new film, of which you wrote the screen play and directed. How do you feel in this new role?
- C It’s a real departure in some ways, but also, since you’ve read my book, you know I love all things film: movie history, classic cinema. In that sense, I feel right at home in this new role.
- N Do you have any early memories connected to film that you’d like to share?
- C Well I grew up in a house where watching movies was a big part of how we spent time together. I remember sometimes feeling uncertain about it because my friends would spend their weekends at cottages or doing outdoor activities, while we would rent movies from the video store. At the time, I didn’t realize how impactful those choices my parents made would be, but I’m so grateful now. I remember Friday nights—they had this \"classics\" section promotion at the video store, and we’d rent Marx Brothers movies, which we loved. I was obsessed with Audrey Hepburn, so any of her film’s were on repeat. My brother loved war films like The Great Escape or The Guns of Navarone, so we were exposed to so many classic actors like Gregory Peck and Steve McQueen from an early age. And even beyond the classics, my parents shared a love of world cinema with us, too. I remember when they rented Secrets and Lies by Mike Leigh—I was way too young for it, honestly, but I watched anyway. Who knows if it was the right age for it, but it opened my eyes to so much, and each of us has our own unique timeline for those things.
- N I can relate! I remember summers starting with watching films like Donnie Brasco with my dad. In hindsight, it was definitely too violent, but it became a way to explore different cultures and perspectives together. Watching films as a family creates such an opportunity for learning.
- C Definitely, and everyone has their own way of spending time together. My husband and I watch films with our son regularly, but we stick mostly to full-length movies rather than shows. I’ll sit next to him on the couch as we watch a Miyazaki film, and sometimes I just watch him watching it, taking in his sense of wonder.
- N Oh I look forward to that with our daughter as well. Right now, I play Studio Ghibli lullabies to help her sleep, but I can’t wait to share the films with her. Seeing them through her eyes will be magical.
- C It really is. This love of film extends to other parts of our life, too. Our library is filled with film books, and our son, who has always been very verbal, is already familiar with the names of actors. He’ll recognize biographies of Angelica Huston, Katharine Hepburn, or the Marx Brothers just from the covers. He even knows the faces of some directors from books lying around—it’s like he’s surrounded by this passion of ours. I think it’s a nice way for him to understand what we love and value as his parents.
- N So film was a passion from a young age, did you always envisioning becoming a director? Was it something in the back of your mind?
- C I think it was, like most things in my life, a natural progression. It wasn’t something I explicitly set as a goal or tried to achieve by taking deliberate steps. It just evolved organically. My producers reached out to me one year at the Toronto International Film Festival, where I was attending as a journalist. They were eager to get the rights to Francoise Sagan’s novel Bonjour Tristesse to adapt it to film, but the publisher had stipulated that a writer be attached to the project.They had read by book, thought of me and reached out, and that’s how it all started. Initially, I came on board just to adapt the screenplay. But over time, it became clear to both them and me that my vision went beyond the page. I was imagining things as a director might. My writing style is already very visual, but I found myself thinking about costume designers, title fonts, locations, even specific songs. It wasn’t just about the screenplay—I was building the world in my head. It wasn’t strategic. I wasn’t thinking, \"If I share enough of my vision, maybe they’ll make me the director.\" It was just how I felt the art should be made. It took on a life of its own, out of my control. Eventually, they said, \"It really feels like you need to direct this.\" I was almost eight months pregnant when they suggested it. Saying yes felt a bit surreal—before you have a baby, you still feel somewhat like yourself and can’t fully imagine how much your life is going to change. If they’d asked me two months postpartum, I might have said no, honestly. I remember thinking, \"I’ve heard babies nap a lot; I can fit in some work!\" I think it was crucial that I hadn’t yet become a mother, so I had the optimism to say yes. In hindsight, I’m glad I directed my first film with a young child because I’ve never known any other way. Balancing it all was a baptism by fire in a process that’s challenging no matter what. But when I came on board as the director, it was like the momentum was already there, as if it was meant to happen.
- N It is so important to take on roles and challenges that aren't necessarily expected of us. Especially today, it seems like people often want to fit others into specific boxes, and I've always tried to resist that. Staying open is essential.
- C Absolutely. Well, first, you’ll have to see the film and let me know what you think! I look forward to hearing your thoughts. I’m glad you asked about the challenges and excitement of taking on this new role because it’s certainly been both.
- N Not only are you now a director but also a mother. Do you feel like these roles have given you a new perspective?
- C Motherhood and directing have both impacted me deeply, and I feel they even complement each other. My son is a huge source of inspiration, as is my work. So much of motherhood, for me, is about being present, but I’m also a daydreamer. There’s this in-between space where I navigate being a mother and a very creative person, and it’s in that space that I feel most at ease. It’s about trusting that these different parts of my life will feed each other. It doesn’t have to be a life of extremes. But I think everyone’s experience is unique. For me, my work—whether it’s directing or just living—centers around staying open. I try to treat openness like a muscle that needs regular exercise. I really believe that keeping an open mind is what will help me grow, both as a mother and as an artist.
- N How did you come to that understanding about yourself?
- C I think it’s partly this project, but it’s also something I’ve always believed. I trust that the world has a way of revealing things to us if we’re paying attention—whether it’s patterns, story ideas, or even just finding the perfect sentence to start or end something. I’ve even found that procrastination can sometimes open unexpected doors; just letting my mind wander often solves a problem. I believe in signs, in open endings, and I try to stay porous to whatever comes my way. One example from the set: there’s a song in the film that I only discovered because of a playlist our nanny in Cassis had made for my son’s bath time. It was an Italian '80s pop ballad mix, and one day, I walked into our apartment while the playlist was on. My son was splashing in the bath, singing along in Italian, and the song just hit me—it was so joyful. I texted my producers immediately, saying, “We have to put this in the movie!” Now it’s one of my favorite musical moments in the film, and it’s all thanks to my son. I get so much inspiration from how he sees the world, from his toys, the simple structure of his storybooks, to his playful approach to language. It’s not just interesting because he’s my son; it’s fascinating because of how open he is simply by being three. That openness keeps my work from feeling like just work. I value the time I get while he’s at daycare to write, and I make the most of it because I know those hours are precious.
- N You mentioned earlier that, as you were working on the screenplay, specific people came to mind for different roles on the team. I'm especially curious about your work with the costume designer, Miyako Belizzi—I love her work! How did she become part of this project, and how did working with such a talented team affect your creative process?
- C Miyako is an extraordinary artist. I’ve always viewed her work through that lens, and I knew I wanted everyone on the team to be true artists. I wanted collaborators whose instincts came from interesting, passionate, even romantic places. Miyako has such a romantic approach to her work. Her knowledge of costume design history, her unique perspective, her background, her personality—so many aspects of her are inspiring, both as a person and an artist. Working with people who have experience in life, not just in their field, was really important to me. Miyako has a genuine curiosity about the world, and when you're making a film, where so much improvisation is involved, that curiosity is invaluable. She’s also just a beam of light, with this positive energy that’s infectious. She was really the only costume designer I wanted, so I told my producers, and thankfully, they made it happen. I sent Miyako the script, and we had long conversations to develop a vision for the film. We wanted a look that felt timeless without being “classic” in a way that might feel predictable or forgettable. She has a deep appreciation for women and truly understands the nuances of designing costumes that feel authentic for different scenes—whether the characters are sitting, walking, or simply being themselves around other women. Her attention to detail is inspiring, and I’ve always been drawn to people who are obsessive in that way. She’s also very family-oriented and values personal connections. It was important for me to work with people who, like me, want to know about each other’s lives.
- N It seems ideal to have that mix of work and personal connection. Did you find it challenging to work on a project that was so social, so different from the more solitary nature of writing?
- C I thought it would be more challenging than it was! But as I mentioned before, when you're building your “family” for a film, it’s not just about talent and vision. You want people you look forward to seeing every day. There’s a lot of waiting around on a film set, so it matters that you genuinely like and enjoy being with these people. Our crew was incredibly loving, curious, and dedicated, which helped with the social aspect. I became close with everyone, from the camera team to the props team. Our prop master was amazing—he had this van that he practically lived in, and it was like a treasure trove of everything you could imagine. If I needed something specific, like a purple seashell, he’d have it, or if a pencil needed to be a particular color or style, he’d have options on hand. I’d spend time in his van or sit in the hair and makeup chair, chatting with the team while waiting for scenes. Those moments kept me grounded in the collaborative, creative energy of the set. In the end, making this film wasn’t just about the final product but also about the life I lived during the process. I realized I’m probably more social than I give myself credit for, even though I typically work alone as a writer. I think that shift may be due to my family—my husband and my son have shown me how to be more open and silly, which carried over to the set in a way.
- N I’m glad you had such a positive experience! It sounds like you discovered a lot about yourself through the process.
- C Absolutely. Making this movie was such a vulnerable experience, and I connected with so many adults who each had their own families, experiences, and wisdom. Ironically, I had the least experience of anyone on set, which was humbling and beautiful. Everyone was there to make this movie that I had written, and I never took that for granted.
- N Did you feel a need to put your own mark on Bonjour Tristesse? Was there something specific you wanted to modernize or explore personally, or was it more of an homage with a contemporary twist?
- C Good question. I tried not to put too much pressure on myself to \"make a mark\" with this adaptation. I think how people will receive it is out of my control, so I wanted to focus on creating a version that felt meaningful to me. We aimed to make it contemporary and familiar, but we also wanted it to feel a bit disorienting. Just when the audience thinks they know how a character might react or speak, there’s something slightly off, maybe in the way they express themselves. This helps preserve the novel’s literary roots and makes the characters feel a bit mysterious rather than completely relatable. I’m not as interested in creating work that serves \"relatability\" for its own sake. I’m more drawn to art as a form of escape, something that transports you, even if that journey is inward. For instance, Bonjour Tristesse explores familiar relationships, like between father and daughter, but I wanted it to feel slightly unsettling—not too comfortable or immediate. That intent shaped every stage, from writing and filming to editing and sound design. One aspect I personally wanted to explore was the relationship between the women. Across cultures, relationships between women are timeless and universal, and that was something I wanted to hone in on. Since Bonjour Tristesse is already a cherished book and film, I thought, How can I add something new? One angle I wanted to explore was the subtle attraction and connection between women, even when they’re \"supposed\" to see each other as rivals. For instance, there's a bit of electricity between the younger woman and Raymond's old friend, Anne, who enters the picture. I wanted to subtly explore the idea that sometimes, despite societal expectations, you do like this other woman, maybe even feel drawn to her. It’s in these subtle, unexpected moments, like a woman at the table complimenting your earrings, that a connection might form. You walk into the room prepared to dislike her, but she notices something attractive about you. These small details felt present in the book, not overtly, but between the lines. Bringing them out in the film in subtle ways felt both meaningful and cinematic. I read the book, then tried to \"forget\" it, so I could approach these women with fresh eyes. These characters were what I couldn’t forget, so my adaptation was a way to navigate the richness of their relationships and the complex layers of womanhood. I wanted to leave some of this open-ended, though not ambiguous. There’s still a story to tell, but I wanted to offer it up to the audience without moralizing. I think Sagan wasn’t interested in morality, and I wanted to keep that spirit in my adaptation. For me, the women were the core of the story and the “clay” I used to mold my version.
- N I love how these small, almost hidden details you’ve picked up from your surroundings and the book itself have become so central in the film. I’m excited to see how that all plays out on screen. I really enjoy films that allow space for interpretation. It sounds like these kinds of moments were important to you too.
- C Yes, they really were. It’s nice to hear that you feel the same, because I know that kind of slow, interpretive viewing experience isn’t why everyone goes to the movies. Personally, though, I’ve never been the most plot-driven viewer. Don’t get me wrong, I love a great plot twist and a story that completely surprises you, but I also love the art of creating images—capturing emotions in unexpected ways feels so magical to me. I hope audiences will see it in theaters, where the experience of a darkened cinema and a world that unfolds at a slower rhythm might stand out. The film’s pacing won’t reflect the fast pace we live in today; I hope its quiet moments resonate because they’re impactful in their own way.
- N I hope so too. I think we could all use a bit more focus on that kind of stillness. Actually, my last question is about how you find a sense of rhythm or calm in your own life. Do you have any rituals or habits that help you stay grounded in such a fast-paced world?
- C Living in Montreal really helps—it’s a bit off the beaten path and there’s less of that “busy for the sake of busy” feeling here. I find going on walks really helps, just moving my body and stepping away from my desk. I’m not one for scenic nature, honestly—it’s more about the act of walking itself. Sometimes, I even take my work on these walks with me, so to speak. If I’m stuck on a scene, I’ll “walk it out,” asking myself questions like why, who, when, what, without the convenience of my computer nearby. If a good idea comes, it has to be clear enough to stay with me until I get back. I’ve also learned that the best approach is to take things one day at a time. There’s only so much we can control, and that’s something I’ve had to accept. Not every day will feel right, and sometimes you just have to let go and ride it out. It used to stress me out; I always felt the need to “fix” the day if things didn’t go as planned. But I’ve realized there’s a lot to gain from just letting go.
