The Brooklyn Rail

In March, I attended the US premiere of director Pete Ohs and writer Jeremy O. Harris’s Erupcja at SXSW. It stars Charli XCX as the wayward heroine Bethany, who gets stranded in Warsaw, Poland with her smitten boyfriend Rob (Will Madden) as a volcano is about to erupt.

From there, what begins as a romantic getaway unravels as Bethany gets swept back into the whirlpool of her dear local friend Nel (Lena Góra). Together, Bethany and Nel ditch Rob and venture across the city, sometimes with exciting new companions like Claude (Harris), all while reminiscing over shared memories as sapphic tensions simmer.

“I really like the balconies and the color blocks in the film,” I told Ohs over drinks on the night of the premiere in Austin. The truth was, at that time, I was orbiting the film—drawn in by its mood, rhythms, and images, yet not fully grasping it.

A month later, I returned to those nebulous feelings and finally had a proper conversation with the director. Ohs opened up about his process, rooted in intuition, presence, and a willingness to follow coincidence wherever it leads. Harris, sharp and electric, joined in as well, infusing the interview with the wit and prose that characterize the film. Having them answer my questions felt like an enigma resolving into something inevitable.

The cast and crew made the film at the onset of “Brat Summer” in 2024. What became clear to me is that it never aimed for the kind of “cool” apathy some audiences might expect or even want. Like Charli’s dynamite record Brat, steeped in vulnerability, Erupcja contains multitudes: insecurity, longing, identity, and ultimately, choice.

Hurt isn’t the point here; it’s the byproduct of the characters doing what they must. Above all, the film is about human connection on and off screen—about how we find one another, maybe lose one another, and keep going no matter what.

Weiting Liu (Rail): Let’s start with your first experiences of Warsaw. The film was my first encounter with the city. I grew up in Chengdu, China, which also has vibrant art and party scenes. I’m pleasantly surprised by how similar the two cities seem, especially in terms of lifestyle and architecture.

Jeremy O. Harris: I’ve heard Chengdu is a magical city. I’d love to go there someday.

Even before visiting Warsaw for the first time, I always knew it had a great theater scene. Pete had been living there and invited me to go. It felt like the perfect excuse to see some theater, explore the city, and on top of that, make a fun film.

Pete Ohs: During my first time in Poland I met a Polish woman with a Before Sunrise experience; I extended my trip for her. The relationship led me to eventually move to Warsaw and try to become European. I also quickly fell in love with the city itself, so I brought my collaborators there to make this film.

Rail: Watching the night sequence where Bethany and Nel reunite and go out, floating through highway bridges and diving into cave-like clubs in Warsaw, I had this déjà vu of how I used to party in Chengdu when I was a teenager. Did you intend to evoke this kind of visceral reaction?

Ohs: We were collaborating intuitively, staying present in the moment, while also exploring memory and projection. Bethany and Nel had an explosive experience that shaped the next decade of their lives. They’re chasing that feeling they had at sixteen—not unlike what you had at that age.

This is something we were also chasing while making the film. So it makes sense that an audience member might feel that same sense of nostalgia.

Rail: Another standout set piece is Bethany’s monologue at the apartment, which felt theatrical, like something out of a play.

Harris: Charli had told Pete earlier about this poem of hers that Bethany ends up reciting in that set piece. We were coming up on her last shooting day. And since she is our lead, before she departed, we needed her to do, in theater terms, a big eleven-o’clock number. So Pete went up to her and asked, “Do you remember your poem? Could you do it tonight for the film?” She, like the pro she is, said, “Give me ten.” She went downstairs, got to work, and less than an hour later, we were shooting it in Lena’s apartment.

Rail: You shot the film in just two weeks. And with everything we’ve discussed so far, the whole process sounds effortless. But your shots feel deliberate, especially in how you use intricate spaces like balconies to frame and position the characters.

Ohs: I’m my own cinematographer and editor. So I’m always seeing what works and what doesn’t in real time.

I once heard filmmaker Robert Rodriguez talk about closing his eyes and watching the film he wants to make in his head. Since then, sometimes when I enter an interesting space, I’ll take a moment to do the same. It’s a little game I play with myself.

I noticed the balconies in Warsaw, closed my eyes, and imagined how they might work in the shots. These visual motifs tend to come into place organically for me.

Rail: What about the visual motif of erupting volcanoes that thread through the film?

Ohs: So much of this film—both before and during—came out of coincidence. Jeremy and I were at a bar the same week I met Charli, having drinks with Oliver Hermanus, who directed The History of Sound (2025). I mentioned that I was living in Warsaw. He shared that, in 2010, he was stuck in Warsaw for a month because a volcanic eruption in Iceland grounded flights in much of Europe. I found that fascinating because I was living in Iceland in 2010. So I latched onto these signs that the universe gave me.

Rail: In the montages with the volcanoes, you also insert flashing sequences of color blocks. Where did that idea come from?

Ohs: Originally, I wanted to start the film with a close-up of a flower, as Nel is a florist. Then I pivoted to a more original idea—to take the colors from the flowers and turn them into these blocks as the film’s opening. They would also become transitions between the scenes to streamline the overall flow.

It seems like a rather whimsical idea, but it’s not just about vibes. With each transition, I use a color pulled from the next scene: If you see a blue block, you’re primed to notice blue more strongly in the shot that follows.

Rail: How you pull these colors from the flowers is hypnotizing.

Florists are usually bubbly, but Nel carries an edge that made me instantly curious about her.

Ohs: As the voiceover narrates, she inherited her flower shop from her mother, so it’s not necessarily a path she actively chose. That’s a big part of what the film is about: people at a point in their lives where they’re wandering around. They’re trying to figure out what the right path forward is—or if there is even a way forward that doesn’t involve some kind of hurt.

Rail: I feel that they all end up being okay. I was moved by the final section where Rob, Nel, and Claude come together and go on this wholesome trek through Warsaw, finding solace in unlikely company at an unlikely place.

Harris: After a volcano erupts, yes, there’s destruction. After Bethany hurts him and leaves, Rob experiences an emotional death. But the possibility of rebirth ensues. Pete and I both believe in the beauty of what can grow out of loss. Rob, in the end, fortunately begins to see that beauty—like seeing a flower growing, rather than just ash settling.