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Beauty Is Perhaps a Matter of Distance
Skin, hair, shadow, texture. A closer look at beauty, where the smallest details matter and being seen means letting your guard down.
In conversation with
The Nüesch Sisters
Our writer Elena Berchermeier met the Nüesch Sisters to talk about what it means when women stand behind the camera themselves, and the responsibility that comes with it.
TEXT by ELENA BERCHERMEIER
PHOTOS by NADINE OTTAWA
HAIR + MAKE-UP by NICOLA FISCHER
In Short
Swiss directors Flo and Kim Nüesch have made films together since they were children; today Kim lives in London, Flo in Zurich. Their short Marriage Unplugged, made with women as heads of department, was their first in-depth look at how sexuality is portrayed on screen. Their first art film, (Un)Becoming, starring Carla Juri, premiered in late July 2026. The sisters talk about the female gaze and what it means to direct as a pair of sisters.
Conversations
For a long time, women in film were mostly looked at, by others, for others. Flo and Kim Nüesch want to change that. The Swiss directing duo work in an industry still shaped by men, and know from experience what it means to hold their own in it as a pair.
I meet the Nüesch Sisters at Café Noir in Zurich. Florine and Kim Nüesch grew up in St Gallen, studied at ArtCenter College of Design in Los Angeles and now live in London and Switzerland. They have always wanted to make films. They tell me their story, which is about continually developing and questioning themselves. With their films, Flo explains, they don’t want to give answers; they want to start conversations.
The sisters began making their own films as children. At first they were mostly in front of the camera. They first ventured a change of perspective when they decided to take on the role of directors. ‘We learnt an incredible amount from the extras and making-of documentaries on DVDs. That’s when we first understood everything that goes on behind the camera,’ says Flo. Their parents were a team at their side, supportive throughout. Their mother wrote stories for them and their father bought them their first Mac to edit the films they’d shot, which gave them enormous freedom as storytellers. They were about nine and seven at the time. Two sisters’ childhood dream became a career they steadily pursued and pushed forward together. ‘Our mother bound us tightly together from very early on. She died young, which brought us even closer,’ says Flo. ‘Because we’re so close, we often notice even small changes in each other,’ says Kim.
That they would work as a duo from then on went without saying. A year after Flo began her studies at ArtCenter College of Design in Los Angeles, Kim followed. It was the only time they worked on the same subjects without taking the same path. It did their bond no harm; it meant each was always involved in the other’s projects.
Today Kim lives in London and Flo in Zurich, which doesn’t get in the way of working together. They simply had to become a little more flexible. They talk across all sorts of channels about ideas, projects or specific cuts, sometimes by phone, sometimes on FaceTime, always with a certain closeness. Most projects start with one of them having a thought sparked by something everyday, which they then talk through. Small observations matter as much as their personal take on things. They discuss, discard and develop the story until it feels right to both of them.
‘It’s not at all the case that we don’t argue about projects. Of course there are moments when we fall out as sisters, but it doesn’t last long,’ says Kim. The strong bond between them is present throughout our conversation. They exchange quick glances, pick up where the other leaves off, and yet are aware of their individuality, so each has room of her own. It isn’t about who is the extrovert or the introvert, Kim says. At heart, it’s their differences that make working together so special. They have never compared themselves with each other or competed.
What matters far more is how you look at yourself. With every project they made, they sharpened their vision and kept questioning themselves. It was never about ego. It was about changing something, as directors and above all as women with their own stories in a male-dominated industry. And so their passion became a stance, and the private found its way into the political.
‘In our short Marriage Unplugged, which is on YouTube and on our website, we engaged in depth with the depiction of sexuality on screen for the first time,’ says Kim. ‘There were internal discussions too, because it really mattered to us that the female lead wasn’t sexualised, as female leads are in so many films.’ This led to repeated conversations on set, within the team and with the intimacy coordinator, the actress, the costume designer and the cinematographer. ‘It was a process in which we kept questioning decisions and consciously defended our own gaze,’ Kim adds.
Their work is shaped by the female gaze, the feminist response to the male gaze, which is the male-defined way of looking at women and their stories. For Flo and Kim, casting few male leads isn’t a conscious decision. They simply tell the story from a woman’s point of view when the lead happens to be a woman. ‘I have a problem with the constant sexualisation of women’s bodies when it has nothing to do with the story,’ says Kim. They mention a documentary that examines exactly this: Brainwashed: Sex-Camera-Power by Nina Menkes.
‘It shows the influence this has on young women and girls, on how we see sexuality and ourselves. We look at ourselves the way men look at us. As directors, we keep developing so we can consciously move away from that,’ Kim continues. The two keep asking themselves where their own standards come from. Often from being inspired by films made by men, and so adopting men’s perspective.
‘As a filmmaker and as a woman, I felt I was drowning in a huge whirlpool of visual language that is very hard to break free from,’ runs the introduction to Nina Menkes’s Brainwashed: Sex-Camera-Power. Against this, the Nüesch Sisters’ films feel like a safe haven. They are self-reflective in their work, deliberately embrace the female gaze and choose to work with women.
Specifically, they want to question why a woman’s body is shown in a particular way. Why is it filmed like this? Who is looking? What are the gender roles in the film? What do the female characters talk about? Is there anything beyond the love interest? ‘The male roles in our films haven’t been hypermasculine either, and they don’t fit the stereotype. On the one hand, roles like that come from reality, and on the other, they can create a new reality,’ says Flo.
Marriage Unplugged
A woman and her husband stand in front of a shop window. Behind the glass is a female sex robot wearing nothing but underwear, and the couple argue over whether or not he looked at it. When they go inside, there are more models, naked and yet, as the woman stresses, so lifelike. Her husband is visibly uncomfortable; she approaches it all with an open mind and ends up ordering a sex robot called James to take home: a model capable of cognitive learning and of recognising needs. Cut to the three of them in the bedroom.
Strange as it sounds, these are the opening scenes of the short film Marriage Unplugged. In 15 minutes it tells the story of a marriage and runs the whole gamut of social themes: artificial intelligence, sexuality, wanting children, gender roles, career, self-fulfilment and humour. After one argument, the wife puts the robot out in the rain. Later, the husband lays it in a bathtub full of rice, as if it were a smartphone that had fallen in water. The gesture is about a kind of parental care, but also about independence. The story’s depth goes hand in hand with a certain lightness, so the film stays entertaining throughout.
This kind of portrayal, with different backgrounds and motives in play simultaneously, is typical of the Nüesch Sisters’ work. Time and again, the Swiss duo take up compelling subjects drawn from real life.
Behind the scenes, too, they stay true to their standards and are aware of a responsibility that reaches beyond the screen. ‘As directors, we decide who we work with. On Marriage Unplugged we deliberately chose women as heads of department,’ says Kim. While the two keep trying to work mainly with women, a look at Hollywood is sobering. They tell me about a study that shows how little equality there is in the film industry.
According to The Celluloid Ceiling, published by the Center for the Study of Women in Television and Film at San Diego State University, women made up only 13 per cent of directors on the 250 highest-grossing US films of 2025. A figure that makes clear how important Flo and Kim’s work is.
At one point in our conversation they become very self-critical. It’s about language, and how language creates reality. Kim says they keep having to remind themselves to call themselves Regisseurinnen, the feminine form of the German word for director, rather than the masculine Regisseure. In English it’s easier: they are simply directors. This detail alone shows that change has to happen on a large scale and just as much in everyday life. Even in English, though, distinctions creep in, and people talk about ‘female directors’. So a difference is emphasised and made visible, to the point where separate awards for female directors have been established. Awards that wouldn’t be needed for work of equal standing.
As we talk about structures and power, it becomes clear that being a duo isn’t always easy. ‘It’s never meant badly, but systems sometimes aren’t made for duos,’ says Kim. Flo explains that there are often situations in which only one person is planned for, such as award ceremonies or fellowships. There have been times when they could share a hotel room but had to pay for the second flight themselves.
And yet there are moments when the thoughts get louder, or go very quiet. Kim says: ‘The financial insecurity of directing sometimes makes us doubt our commitment, especially during quieter or more difficult periods. But in the end our passion for the work is always stronger than any doubt.’
When a calling becomes a job, it’s important to find a healthy way of handling it. The idea that you supposedly never have to work in the conventional sense again if your job is fulfilling enough can create enormous pressure. The two take a realistic approach. Anyone working freelance in a creative field often has no fixed hours and little set structure. ‘That makes a conscious work-life balance all the more important. For me that means not answering emails in the evening, for example. Or winding down a bit on Monday or Tuesday after a busy weekend,’ says Flo. She draws strength above all from everyday things: good food, cooking together, time with others. She also values her time alone greatly and uses quiet moments to recharge and stay grounded.
Kim agrees: ‘Day to day, time with my friends matters a lot to me. So do good books and of course good films, going dancing and doing crosswords in bed with my partner. And if we’re talking about the really small things that make me happy, my very sweet new cat Hiro, named after the director Hirokazu Kore-eda, is one of them too.’
Despite all the hurdles and challenges, Flo and Kim have always gone their own way. Here too it’s clear that their path hasn’t always been set by their ideals alone. We talk quite naturally about the different kinds of projects, which include commissions for clients as well as their own films.
‘There are directors who only make their own projects and no branded films. But it isn’t really a contradiction, because it doesn’t mean there’s less passion just because we’re working for a brand,’ says Kim. The fashion film Through the Storm, for example, which they wrote, directed and produced for Vogue Italia, is about isolation during the pandemic and about how news from around the world resembles a storm. It holds its own against their personal projects, with the same aesthetic and socially critical qualities. Of course there are projects they turn down, because ‘if it doesn’t feel right, it isn’t right’, says Flo. That’s how honest they are with themselves. Then again, there are always situations at work where you have to give way. Flo adds: ‘Especially when you’re employed and not working on your own projects. I have a clear stance and a strong personal approach to my work, and at the same time dialogue matters to me. Film is teamwork, and when you work with the crew or with clients, that exchange often opens up new layers you wouldn’t have reached alone.’
‘Even so, we put as much of ourselves as we can into our narrative films, because we’re freer there and they carry our signature from start to finish,’ says Flo. ‘True freedom lies in the detail, and in shaping everything as much as possible the way you want it.’
That love of detail was there from the start. It has developed over the years, but it has always been part of their work. Kim says: ‘Concretely, it began with us not only engaging with the story but also asking: how should this moment be shot? What colours should be in this image?’ Flo: ‘That’s how we came to understand which components can be decisive.’
As with any artist, it still took time for them to find their perspective. Flo says: ‘The first film where we found our style was probably Moon Girls, which we made at university.’
Aesthetics play a major role in their work, because film depends on its images. By contrast, they try to break with prevailing beauty norms. ‘For me, filmmaking isn’t about beauty so much as aesthetics,’ says Flo. Kim adds: ‘For me, beauty relates to a person, and aesthetics to the world and a certain balance.’ Beauty isn’t only about the surface; it also comes from within. From charisma, and from feeling at ease.
This tension is extremely interesting. On the one hand, films need to connect with people if they are to be seen; on the other, your own stance matters. So how beautiful is someone allowed to be? How important is that beauty on screen? How far are subjects taken in the first place? As directors, they move in a constant state of ambivalence. Flo says that everything you do is a conscious decision that has to be thought through first.
Flo: ‘No film is perfect, and no film can please everyone.’ Still, they know their work can bring visibility and change. ‘Maybe you have to go a bit extreme first, so that one day it becomes normal,’ Kim reflects. It isn’t their style to be different for the sake of it and divide opinion. They let their films speak for themselves. Through awards at festivals around the world, they give visibility to social issues and female perspectives, and hold their own aesthetically.
Beauty, really, isn’t that simple. On the one hand it has evolved; on the other, social media still shows us unhealthy standards that existed before, and we are still publicly debating how women ought to look. That’s why counter-movements are needed: films, books, art and discussions that show it should always be about an individual gaze and never a collective verdict. Film needs to reflect reality, and so do other visual media.
Alongside structures that can be resisted, there are changes that can’t be stopped. AI is unstoppable and will surely be used in parts of film production. ‘But we don’t believe directors will be entirely replaced,’ says Flo. The second-screen phenomenon is another trend. Streaming services are adapting their scripts so that a film or series still makes sense if you’re glued to your phone the whole time you’re watching. Information is repeated, and the plot is even spelt out entirely in dialogue.
As with every craft, there is probably a certain nostalgia. While this piece first found its place in a print magazine, for filmmakers the cinema seems to remain the most important venue. We talk about the kind of isolation that happens there: time deliberately set aside, no distractions, no smartphones. ‘I feel that because of social media, the beauty of films isn’t appreciated as much any more,’ says Flo. For her, the cinema is one of the last spaces where you’re really focused and where the film is at the centre. It seems as though, amid all this speed, they want to create moments and food for thought that stay with you.
There it is again, the simultaneity in their work. One moment it’s about aesthetics and the perfect shot, the next about a development they consciously want to keep their distance from. Almost sixty years ago, Andy Warhol said that in the future everyone would be famous for fifteen minutes. He didn’t foresee how much shorter attention spans would become, or that the challenge would involve more than achieving fame. It feels almost rebellious to treat social media deliberately as a place for behind-the-scenes content, and not to give in to its pressure. At the same time, it matters to them that these come from their own minds. ‘I would never write a script with AI,’ says Kim. They have a certain fear that their own style and way of writing could be stolen, since AI works with that very material. ‘How do we know our idea won’t then be suggested to other people looking for input for their script?’ says Flo.
There it is again, the simultaneity in their work. One moment it’s about aesthetics and the perfect moment, the next about a development they consciously want to keep their distance from. Almost 60 years ago, Andy Warhol said that in the future everyone would be famous for 15 minutes. He couldn’t have known that attention spans would become far shorter, or that the challenge would involve more than achieving fame. It seems almost rebellious to treat social media deliberately as a channel for behind-the-scenes content and not bow to that pressure.
Instead, when we spoke, Flo and Kim were working on two projects that couldn’t be more different. In September 2025 they shot their first art film, which has since been released. ‘It’s called (Un)Becoming, and it’s a kind of artistic manifesto and our response to political regression around the world,’ says Flo. It explores what it means to be a woman at a time when women’s rights are under severe pressure worldwide. It was challenging, they say, because they hadn’t worked in the genre before, but they also gave themselves a certain freedom. ‘We could be much bolder and push things further. We also brought in theatrical elements,’ says Kim.
They were also working on their first feature film. ‘It’s about miscommunication and generational differences between a millennial daughter and a boomer father,’ Kim explains. At the time, they were still writing the script. The idea came out of conversations with friends who had all had similar experiences with their fathers. In their families, people had often talked past each other. So as not to bring in only their own perspective, they want the film to speak to different generations, because what everyone shares is the feeling, at times, of not being understood.
This approach, too, is as accessible as it is brilliant. Even though nobody feels understood, everyone understands how that feels. They manage to speak to many people at once and unite them through understanding. And along the way, the whole gamut of themes that have become part of their films’ repertoire comes up. This simultaneity isn’t just their passion; it also reflects a wish they have always had, to make a feature film, as Flo explains.
This way of making films is art. They don’t hand out answers or impose their views; they bring in different perspectives. They understand how powerful their stories can be. Again and again they show ways of looking at the world, and invite the audience into this cinematic dialogue. They offer no fixed answers and impose no views, and as a duo they still manage to move within this tension.
A version of this piece first appeared in Super Flattering PRINT ISSUE N°01 / 2026. The interview took place in spring 2026.
The Nüesch Sisters’ latest film, (Un)Becoming, can now be watched in full on their WEBSITE.
