Imagine meeting someone who not only becomes one of your closest friends but also your creative soulmate, someone with whom you build entire worlds, tell meaningful stories, and carve out a voice that speaks directly to what you both believe about the world. That’s the essence of Unusual Bones, the female-led creative collective founded by Kanya and Emilie.
Their work is rooted in deep collaboration and a shared vision for more experimental, intimate, and intentional storytelling.. What stood out most in our conversation was how it reminded me of the power of true collaboration, the kind that’s not just about sharing tasks, but about building something real together. And how love, passion, and friendship aren’t just nice-to-haves, they’re often the magic behind making the kind of work we want to see in the world.
The takeaway? Make things with your friends. Make them with heart. And let them live boldly in the world.
Emily, in doing research and watching your work, there’s something deeply intimate and poetic about your storytelling approach. How do you balance the raw emotional aspects of telling a story while also ensuring it retains that dreamlike aesthetic?
Emily: I’m definitely a feeler, I lead with emotion and intuition before logic, which can be beautiful but also a little risky. Most of my creative decisions stem from impulses, from feelings or experiences I’ve had or want to explore. I’m always trying to find a balance between evoking strong emotion and grounding the story in a relatable reality. I never want it to become so abstract that it loses its truth. But I love that you picked up on that, it’s something that comes naturally to me, even if I’m also intentional about it.
Kanya, as a director and writer, I’ve noticed a strong cultural and linguistic nuance in your work. Is that intentional, and how does your South African identity influence your storytelling, especially for global audiences?
Kanya: That’s such a good question. Yes, I think for me it always starts from an honest place. I love words, language, and the challenge of expressing something clearly or the impossibility of it. In South Africa, our cultural, linguistic, and political identities are so intertwined, and I love working with that complexity. Specifically with Afrikaans, there’s power in having Afrikaans characters challenge the culture and language itself. I’d rather tell something specific and true to a character than create a watered-down, generalized version. Ironically, the more specific we get, the more universal it becomes.
For both of you, how do your different creative approaches come together in Unusual Bones? And why did you feel it was necessary to start this initiative now, in the context of contemporary South African cinema?
Kanya: We met at 13, in high school, and just immediately connected. We were the peripheral girls, into strange films and music, and we loved working together from early on. Later, after both studying theatre, we decided to make a short film. We had no money, just begged, borrowed, and roped in friends. It could’ve ended our friendship, but it made us stronger. We realized we love working together, and even though film is often hierarchical, our process is deeply collaborative. People on set were confused at first, asking who’s in charge. But it’s not divided, we do it all together.
Emily: Yes, we really fill each other in beautiful ways. Kanya might explain something, and I’ll immediately see the visual for it, or I’ll tell a story and she’ll pull out incredible symbolism. It’s a sacred, organic process rooted in our shared background and our desire to challenge norms. That’s what Unusual Bones is about making films that ask difficult questions and offer new perspectives. Our latest feature explores toxic masculinity through the eyes of a teenage girl. We’re not interested in just showing violence we’re asking, how do we break the cycle?
Kanya: Being a duo is hard sometimes. We challenge each other constantly, but it makes the work stronger. That’s something uniquely South African: we’re resourceful and collaborative. I’ve noticed this even more since moving to Germany. European culture can be very individualistic, whereas in South Africa, we come together and solve things as a group. I think our dynamic encourages others on set to speak up too. It becomes a conversation, not a dictatorship.
You both have a background in theatre. How has that shaped your filmmaking, and how do those two mediums inform each other in your practice?
Kanya: It’s fundamental for us. Studying theatre taught us to focus on the people in front of us to trust what’s happening in the moment. It’s made us confident in working with actors, and we’re happy to walk into the unknown with them. Film allows more manipulation, editing, effects but we value rehearsals and in-depth character development. We want to honor the process, not rush it.
Emily: Theatre taught us to master our craft. A director’s main job is to hold space for actors, to guide performance. That’s why we chose theatre, it gave us the tools to do that. Everyone else on set contributes to the visuals, the sound, the technical side. But no one else can direct your actors for you. It’s such an intimate, powerful space to hold.
Emily, could you expand a bit on your creative process particularly the interplay between movement, cinema, and performance? Do you come in with a rigid plan, or is your process more fluid?
Emily: It’s definitely fluid, but rooted in preparation. I spend a lot of time getting to know actors even for commercials. I’ll have lunch with them, talk about who their character is, what parts of themselves connect with that person. Even if it’s just a commercial, I believe in infusing meaning. Someone once asked why I care so much about character development in ads, and I said, “That’s exactly why I do it’s not just about selling something.” We’re creating meaning, even in small ways. On a recent shoot, an actress told me I made her believe in her craft again. That matters.
Kanya: I’ll add that Emily is amazing at leaving room for play. We’ll prepare, but if something better emerges on the day, we follow that. On our first short, we spontaneously jumped into a lake to shoot an unscripted scene. That openness makes her process magical.
Kanya, I’d love to hear your thoughts on balancing political narratives with creative success. It often feels like the more successful people get, the more they move away from political storytelling. But you’ve both continued to center those narratives.
Kanya: For us, it starts with who we are. We’re both 1994 babies, born into that hopeful moment of South Africa’s democracy. So our lives are deeply tied to the country’s political journey. I’ve always believed the personal is political every space, every person, holds political weight. But yes, it’s tough. The Afrikaans theatre space, for example, doesn’t always want to fund politically challenging work. They don’t want to hear hard truths.
Emily: Kanya once did a performance piece where the audience could write letters to South Africa on the bathroom walls. People wrote the most incredible, horrifying, and emotional things. It opened up space for real conversation. That’s what we want to make work that makes people go, “Why aren’t we talking about this?”
Kanya: It’s hard because we’re not fully established yet. We’re in this middle ground not amateurs, but not resourced either. Emily does commercials. I’m doing my PhD. But we’d rather take the long road and make the work we believe in. We could make Christmas rom-coms, sure but that’s not who we are.
Emily: And we’re aware of the privilege and access we have. That’s why we’re committed to giving back. We work with emerging talent, we cast new actors, we’re part of community film programs. We really try to keep the door open.
