Introducing Erik Warolin and Ludvig Frøkjær Thomsen

Erik Warolin

Stockholm-based Erik is an established director with a background in advertising and scripted drama, having cut his teeth at Sweden’s national broadcaster, SVT. His films are marked by thoughtful visuals, narrative clarity, and character-led situational humour that shine a light on the imperfect, human details within everyday moments.

You’ve been directing for a while now. What excites you about this next chapter?

New collaborations and working on projects that have a strong idea or concept. I would love to work with developed stories where the visuals and humour support each other - that balance is what feels most interesting to explore. I mean, an epic emotional comedy - that would be something!

What draws you to comedy as a form of expression?

I often think about comedy as something very pure. It’s one of the few emotions that’s hard to analyse or overthink after the fact. If you laugh, you laugh. If you don’t, you don’t. I think making someone smile is one of the strongest forms of currency we have, often even more powerful than money or status, especially in our culture.

Walking that fine line between drama/comedy, who are your biggest inspirations?

I’m mostly inspired by work that treats humour as something human rather than exaggerated. I’m drawn to filmmakers who focus on behaviour, small shifts in power, and characters trying to hold themselves together under pressure. Martin McDonagh, PTA, the Coens, Armando Iannucci are the first that come to mind. For me, inspiration often comes from how a situation is built and observed, rather than from big performances — but then again, as I said before, if you laugh, you laugh. It doesn't have to be more complicated than that.

Outside of film, what informs your approach to directing?

Music is very inspiring to me in a way that’s hard to define. It’s more diffuse and intangible, but it strongly affects rhythm and mood. Literature is often incredibly effective in activating my story brain, even non-fiction. I’m also drawn to interior design and architecture in a very instinctual way. I like to think of environments less as places and more as emotional states in pre-production.

Ludvig Frøkjær Thomsen

Up-and-coming director Ludvig was shaped by an upbringing immersed in art, literature, and classical music. Having occupied a seat in the new—land Copenhagen office as a director's assistant, he honed his craft assisting directors Tore Frandsen and Casper Balslev. His films blend meaningful storytelling with a wry, nostalgic charm and a distinctive visual voice.

When it comes to filmmaking, what drives you?

It’s the investigation that is always the most exciting. For me, filmmaking is a tool to enter an arena and stay there long enough to understand its behaviour, people, and contradictions.

From there, I look for truth, tragedy, and humour. Often all at once. Moments where characters reveal more than they intend to, when a small, almost insignificant detail ends up telling the real story. Film is a way for me to process things I don’t fully understand, and to invite the audience into that uncertainty rather than resolve it for them.

How would you describe your style and approach?

I guess my approach will always be rooted in a form of observation, and then how characters respond to that observation. I often want to do too many things at the same time, so restriction is a huge part of the process.

I’m very interested in contrast. Polished worlds with odd, fragile people, or serious setups that collapse into something absurd. Process-wise, I care deeply about preparation, but I also leave space for things to break or surprise us on set.

You’ve got an undeniable knack for comedic timing - what are some of your influences?

Thank you! Comedy, for me, is necessary to deal with reality. Without comedy, we’re doomed. It’s devastating when people take themselves too seriously. Except neurosurgeons - they are off the hook.

I’m generally drawn to comedy that doesn’t announce itself as comedy, but sneaks up on you to the point where you’re not sure whether to laugh or cry, and sometimes do both. Other times, it’s just straight-up nonsense or dark deadpan humour that can leave me in tears of laughter.

Peering into the looking glass of 2026, what excites you most?

I’m interested in work that has a heart. Work that makes me want to get inside it, to examine it, wrestle with it, and then elevate it. When someone walks away slightly unsettled, amused, or questioning something small about themselves or the world, that feels like success to me.

You can see more of Erik's work here, and Ludvig over here.