interview | kim lee

There’s a scene near the end of ‘Nimrods‘ that Kylr Coffman still can’t quite believe is real. He won’t spoil it, but he’ll tell you how it felt to watch it back for the first time: “The end of the film just seems AI to me. There’s no way someone let me do THAT with Green Day.” It’s the kind of disbelief that only makes sense once you know where he started.

This year, Coffman steps into his first leading role in a feature film as the star of ‘Nimrods’, the Green Day-inspired coming-of-age comedy. He shares the screen with Mason Thames, Jenna Fischer, Bobby Lee, Fred Armisen and the members of Green Day themselves, playing Fred — one of three best friends who mistakenly believe their garage band has been invited to open for Green Day on New Year’s Eve, and who set off across the country chasing that mistake anyway. The film premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival in 2025 to strong critical acclaim, with Coffman’s performance singled out again and again as a breakout. 

For Coffman, the role isn’t a stretch so much as a homecoming. Growing up in small-town Oklahoma, he didn’t have superheroes in the traditional sense. Instead, he had bands. Green Day, Operation Ivy, NOFX. “While most kids grew up with Marvel and Star Wars. When I was growing up, punk rock was my Marvel,” he says. Later, as a teenager, he found pop-punk — The Story So Far was the gateway — and started his own garage band, Found in Atlases, playing alongside genre names like Title Fight, The Wonder Years, and Tigers Jaw on Oklahoma stages. “The music scene taught me the value of storytelling and art, specifically DIY storytelling,” he says. “If you’re lucky, your art and stories can become a home and a voice for others.” That belief is why, he adds, “getting to tell this story felt like writing a love letter to a music scene that provided the home and family I always wanted growing up.”

That homecoming got a literal exclamation point at TIFF, where ‘Nimrods’ premiered in 2025. Coffman had never even heard of the festival before his own film landed there. “That night was sick!” he says. “TIFF was my first time visiting a new country, my first time seeing myself in a leading role, and getting to share that with a crowd for the first time meant a lot… My mind was blown at how big of a deal it was.” With ‘Nimrods’ as his first major film, he says he’s learning something new about the industry every day. 

That background gave him a head start most actors playing musicians don’t get. He already understood the bond that comes from being in a band with your friends — “your band vs. the world,” as he puts it — and he leaned on that to build the on-screen chemistry of Analog Dogs, the fictional garage band at the center of the film. “Punk rock music was never great to me because it’s perfect,” he says. “It’s great because it’s passionate and honest. I truly feel like we captured that feeling with our band, Analog Dogs, in the movie.” The one real challenge was technical: Coffman grew up playing drums, so learning guitar and bass for the role meant starting almost from scratch. Still, channelling everything he’d absorbed from bands like Green Day, Sum 41 and NOFX, he says the process felt like a gift — “I felt like I understood the assignment.”

Still, choosing to be an actor at all was never a given. “Becoming an actor in small-town Oklahoma felt impossibly impossible,” Coffman says. He didn’t meet a professional actor until he left for Los Angeles after high school — and once there, he made a choice that still shapes how he talks about ambition. To save money for SAG dues, acting classes, and headshots, he went without stable housing for a stretch, a decision he says got him misunderstood, judged and called crazy. “You’re only crazy and delusional until your dreams become a reality,” he says now. It’s a line that doubles as his read on ‘Nimrods’ itself — a film about three friends whose delusion turns out to be what saves them. “Making your dreams come true is gonna take sacrifice, faith in others, and a bag of mushrooms.”

Much of ‘Nimrods’ was filmed in Oklahoma, which Coffman says made the whole experience feel like it was folding back on itself. “It was surreal shooting my first big movie in the place where it once felt impossibly impossible to be an actor.” The state’s film industry, he notes, is having a moment of its own — and he clearly sees his own arc as part of that larger story.

Working alongside Green Day themselves, he says, was the rare case of a childhood hero living up to the hype. “Don’t meet your heroes… unless those heroes are Green Day,” he says. “Hanging out with them is everything you’d want it to be and more. They are the world’s biggest punk band and still the most down-to-earth dudes.” He came away with advice from Mike Dirnt that he says he’ll hold onto for good — that staying true to yourself sometimes means knowing “not every envelope needs to be opened.”

As for the pressure that comes with a first lead role already being talked about as a breakout, Coffman says he’s trying to meet it with gratitude rather than anxiety. “I’m protecting Fred and myself by practicing gratitude,” he says. “This moment and this role are much bigger than just me. It’s so special to be telling stories and creating characters that allow others to be seen and heard.”

‘Nimrods’ is in theatres now.

skateboard photography. Brent White
portraits. Nigel Bland
interview + editor. Kelsey Barnes

top. Meryll Rogge
trousers. 6397

Erotic thrillers are supposed to run on youth, glamour, and heat. ‘Night Nurse‘ runs on none of that. Director Georgia Bernstein‘s debut swaps the genre’s usual playground for a retirement community, where a young night-shift nurse named Eleni becomes entangled with an elderly resident named Douglas through a series of scam phone calls that curdle into something else entirely — desire is displaced, disguised, and repeated until it means everything.

Written for and starring Bernstein’s real-life best friend Cemre Paksoy, the film is less interested in shock value than in the strange intimacy of caretaking, and what happens when two people can’t say what they actually want from each other. Inspired in part by the scam calls Bernstein’s own grandmother received near the end of her life — and partly shot in her grandmother’s house outside Chicago — ‘Night Nurse’ pulls from a wide, unexpected lineage: Cronenberg’s ‘Crash’, Lucrecia Martel’s fragmented gaze, Catherine Breillat’s refusal to look away, even 1930s nursesploitation. The result is a film more concerned with longing than titillation, asking what an erotic thriller even looks like after the internet has already shown us everything.

In conversation with Schön!, Bernstein and Paksoy talk through the writing process, the visual language of desire, and the friendship that made the whole thing possible.

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trousers. 6397
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trousers. 6397

Erotic thrillers have been treated as disreputable for decades. What made this the right genre to tell this particular story in?

Georgia Bernstein: I didn’t really set out to make an erotic thriller so much as a film about falling into a toxic relationship. I was interested in what happens when people can’t, or won’t, express what they really feel. And what happens when those feelings get redirected somewhere else. I was thinking about how some of the great erotic thrillers had used this idea of displacing desire into something unexpected. The most famous example is Cronenberg’s ‘Crash’, in which people become sexually aroused by car accidents. In ‘Night Nurse’, desire is displaced into these nightly scam calls. They become a kind of love language between Eleni and Douglas, who repeat the same script over and over, but each time the words begin to mean something entirely new. That felt like my way into a genre that’s seeing a bit of a comeback right now.

The film sits in conversation with ‘Body Heat’, ‘Crash’, ‘In the Cut’, ‘Babygirl’. Which of those was actually on your mind during prep, and which did you consciously want to avoid echoing?

Bernstein: All of those films were somewhere in the conversation, but I was also drawing from outside the erotic thriller. I was interested in finding all the cinematic nurses, from Roger Corman’s nursesploitation trilogy from the ’70s to William Wellman’s ‘Night Nurse’ from 1931, as well as what I think of as the great doomed love stories, like ‘Bonnie and Clyde’, ‘The Honeymoon Killers’, and ‘In the Mood for Love’. I think I was looking beyond the traditional erotic thriller because I was interested in what the genre might look like after the internet. We don’t need to go to the movies to see sex anymore. Movies have to offer us something else. That question pushed me toward longing and fantasy.

Why a retirement community specifically? What did that setting let you do with power, need, and control that a more “obvious” erotic-thriller setting wouldn’t?

Bernstein: An erotic thriller set in a retirement community became our hook almost immediately, simply because they were such an unlikely pair. But this setting choice wasn’t arbitrary. The film was inspired in part by the scam calls my grandmother received toward the end of her life, and we actually shot portions of the film in her house outside Chicago. I also just love that the retirement community immediately changes your assumptions about the power dynamics at play. The question of who’s taking care of whom becomes much less straightforward.

How did you want the audience to feel about the age dynamics at play?

Bernstein: The age gap between our protagonists is definitely meant to be provocative, but I never wanted it to be treated as a joke or a gimmick. I wanted to take it completely seriously. I was interested in making a film about a young woman in a relationship with an older man and the complicated power dynamic between them. However, I was determined to approach that dynamic in a way that hadn’t been done before. What would happen if we pushed it to the extreme? What if the older man is so old that he lives in a retirement community? Suddenly all of our assumptions about who is in control begin to unravel.

To me, the age gap was never simply there to shock the audience. By taking the relationship to this extreme, I hoped the dynamics would become, in a way, more recognizable. I hoped that the audience might see something of their own relationships reflected back.

Georgia, what did you need from Cemre in the audition or early conversations to know she could carry this?

Bernstein: To be honest, I wrote the role for Cemre, so there wasn’t a formal audition. She’s my closest friend, and we’d worked together for years, so I already knew she was the only person I wanted to play Eleni. At the time, she was living in Istanbul, so we spent months figuring out how to get her a visa to make the film. Throughout that process, she kept telling me I should start casting a wider net, just in case. But I just couldn’t imagine doing this film with anyone else.

Cemre, what did you need to know about Georgia’s intentions before saying yes to a role this exposed?

Cemre Paksoy: I guess while ‘Night Nurse’ isn’t “exposed” in more traditional ways — there are no sex scenes or nudity — it’s emotionally exposed, and it’s uncomfortable. I think it makes the audience feel exposed as well, having to sit in that discomfort. My dream as an actor is to play roles like this, so this was flattery of the highest degree.

I honestly didn’t need to know anything, and didn’t ask many questions. I trusted Georgia completely on set and throughout the whole process. I think she’s brilliant. Her vision is clear and unique. You could see it in the script; it was all there. I don’t trust anyone else’s taste more, so for her to trust me back as an actor with this role was the greatest compliment of my life.

Pulling off a movie and role like this requires something intangible, something hard to describe, and that’s where the friendship and partnership come in. I don’t think this movie would have been possible without that mutual trust. There’s a quality to our relationship that allows us to move past a traditional “process” into something that feels more instinctual.

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Was there a scene where you disagreed on tone or interpretation, and how did you resolve it?

Bernstein: We honestly didn’t disagree very often because the collaboration started long before we got to set. Because I wrote it for Cemre, and because she was very involved on the script level, by the time we started shooting, we had already spent quite some time talking about Eleni. Cemre was the only person besides me who had every scene number memorized. She doesn’t like watching herself, but she was deeply invested in every stage of making this film. During the edit, I’d tell her something like, “we’re struggling with Scene 43,” and she’d immediately know exactly which scene I meant. She was more than an actor; she is a true creative partner in this film.

Paksoy: Georgia and I developed this almost unspoken language on set. Sometimes, she would walk over to give me a note, and half the time I’d already know what she was about to say. We just had such a shared understanding of the character and the tone.

Cemre, how did you build your character’s interiority? What’s she getting out of this dynamic that she couldn’t say out loud?

Paksoy: I never feel I’m building a character from scratch. My entry point to the story was finding a version of myself in this world. Like ‘Night Nurse’, most of my favourite films are about the things we can’t say out loud — the things that are under the surface. I think there is an ironic sense of fulfillment you can get from caring for another person, from being selfless. It gives Eleni purpose; it’s a sick satisfaction, but a real one. Some people see the movie as her losing herself, but you can also see it as her finding herself. Even if what she finds isn’t necessarily “good,” it’s true to life.

How much backstory did you two invent together that never makes it onscreen but shaped how a scene got played?

Paksoy: We imagined Eleni as someone who didn’t really have a life outside of work, as someone who has very little life experience. But more than anything, it was important to us that she felt like someone searching for purpose and belonging. Someone who could plausibly be drawn into a strange community or a destructive relationship because it offered her a sense of meaning.

Bernstein: Very little of that is ever stated outright. There are hints, like the revelation that she was fired from her last job, or the suggestion that she has some kind of troubled past, but those details are meant to function more as invitations than explanations. I wanted the audience to project onto Eleni in the same way that she projects onto Douglas. Ideally, watching the film feels a little like joining this strange nurse cult — you gradually find yourself adopting her logic before you realize you’ve become complicit in it.

How did you and your DP talk about desire visually? Whose gaze is the camera taking on, and did that shift scene to scene?

Bernstein: My DP Lidia Nikonova and I wanted the film itself to feel like the experience of desire. We watched a lot of Lucrecia Martel, especially The Holy Girl, and were inspired by the way she photographs the act of looking through these fragmented shots. Martel often catches the back of someone’s neck, the top of an ear, or someone through a doorframe. We similarly wanted the audience to always be reaching for something just out of view. That approach felt especially important because the film is almost entirely from Eleni’s perspective.

The nurse as an object of desire is an enduring erotic trope that we wanted to subvert. What if the nurse were the desiring one? And the camera is always aligned with her desire? Mirrors and reflections became another recurring idea. The film is full of people looking at each other indirectly, projecting onto one another. That felt much truer to the experience of desire. We also talked a lot about Catherine Breillat’s imperceptible dolly moves. We shot almost the entire film on a dolly to give the world a real weight and slowness that matched the rhythms of the retirement community. I wanted the world to feel suspended in time. I think when the movement is almost imperceptible, there’s a strange feeling that the world is pulling you in before you even realize it’s moving.

Music and sound in erotic thrillers often do a lot of the emotional heavy lifting. What was the temp track or reference that shaped a key scene?

Bernstein: I listened to ‘3 Women’ and ‘Picnic at Hanging Rock’ constantly while I was writing the script because they have this dreamlike, feminine quality that’s incredibly unsettling. Both films are also about young women gradually losing themselves. These scores were also used heavily as temp tracks until I brought on my composers Sam Clapp and Steven Jackson. We quickly shifted to Coppola’s ‘The Conversation’ and agreed on the power of a recurring melody. I wanted ‘Night Nurse’ to feel circular, like you’re going around and around in that swimming pool and you’re not entirely sure you’ll ever get out.

Sam and Steven then brought in their brothers, Will and Nate, and a handful of other incredibly talented musicians, and recorded much of the music live to picture. I had the chance to be there for those sessions. I’m not a musician, so my direction was never technical. I would talk in terms of feeling, and somehow they always knew how to translate that into music. By the time we reached sound, my sound designer Eli Cohn and I had the same instinct to keep taking things away. We wanted the film to be as quiet as possible, trusting silence as much as music to create tension.

Editing for tension vs. titillation: was there a cut that changed the meaning of a scene entirely?

Bernstein: My editor, Alex Jacobs, and I were always watching movies throughout the editing process. He was a big believer that if we got stuck, the solution wasn’t to stare at the timeline; it was to go watch a movie. We revisited ‘Crash’, ‘Exotica’, ‘Belle de Jour’, and Catherine Breillat’s films over and over again, and sometimes a single cut or transition would unlock something. One of our favourite discoveries came from Belle de Jour. There’s a simple editorial move where Buñuel cuts in a way that breaks our sense of what is real. We started calling it “the Belle de Jour cut” whenever we wanted to blur this same line.

We were also really interested in duration, in sitting in discomfort. That’s something I admire so much in Catherine Breillat’s work. She isn’t afraid to make the audience uncomfortable. She never cuts away. Eleni works the night shift; we also wanted the audience to experience her exhaustion. Dream logic became an editorial tool. It helped us move from one location to the next, and guided our decisions about what information to withhold and what to reveal.

What’s something Cemre brought to the role that wasn’t on the page?

Bernstein: Cemre has these remarkably expressive eyes. My favourite scenes with her are when there is very little dialogue, and we watch thoughts and contradictions move across her face without her speaking a word. We used to joke on set that “the camera loves her.” It goes without saying that she’s endlessly watchable, but I think we’re drawn into her performance because she has these wide eyes bubbling over with emotion. I love that it feels like they invite our projections.

Georgia, was there a moment on set where you realized the actor understood the character better than you’d written her?

Bernstein: It was the first phone call scene in the kitchen, which we shot on our second day. It’s a deceptively difficult scene because it more or less establishes the emotional rules of the entire film. Cemre understood immediately that Eleni isn’t simply resisting Douglas or giving in to him. She’s drawn to him, but she can’t quite admit that to herself. It’s a very contradictory emotional state, a kind of desire that’s difficult to write because it exists in performance rather than dialogue. We’d looked at a lot of references beforehand to get on the same page about tone, and once we got to set, this strange dialogue I had written came out of her so freely and simply. She found all these tiny emotional shifts that communicated everything that was going on internally. She was perfect.

If you made a second film together, what genre would you want to blow up next?

Bernstein: We want to make another erotic thriller. We’re working on a script right now inspired by “Vacation Noir” movies like ‘The Talented Mr. Ripley’ and ‘L’Avventura’, seeing if we can push our take on the erotic thriller even further.

Paksoy: There’s nothing like being miserable and yearning in a gorgeous summer town. Georgia and I are both interested in how you can make an erotic thriller today. Can there be even less kissing?

Bernstein: It’s that same idea that I keep going on about. What are we going to the movies for? What can we find there that we can’t find on our computers?

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trousers. 6397
shoes. Salomon

photography. Max Montgomery
fashion. Alexander Siliezar
talent. Cemre Paksoy + Georgia Bernstein
hair. Niki Rae
make up. Karly Ketelle
editor + interview. Kelsey Barnes

top. Jaki
earrings. Thomas Sabo

Karla Crome has spent the last decade and a half moving fluidly between acting and writing — from breakout roles in ‘Misfits’, ‘Carnival Row’, ‘Under the Dome’ and ‘Am I Being Unreasonable?’, to writing credits on ‘Safe’, ‘The Stranger’ and ‘Screw’. Now she brings both sides of her career together with ‘Possession‘, the five-part supernatural thriller she created and wrote for Sky Atlantic, starring Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Jonny Lee Miller, Bel Powley and Sheldon Shepherd.

Developed from an original idea by Jefferson Bannis, ‘Possession’ follows Claudia, a lawyer whose routine inheritance case pulls her from Bristol to Jamaica and into a mystery tangled up with slavery’s legacy, generational trauma and restless spirits at the crumbling Hope Hill plantation. Directed by Storm Saulter and shot on location in both Bristol and Jamaica, the series blends gothic horror with colonial history to create what Saulter calls “tropical noir.”

Ahead of the show’s premiere, Crome spoke about writing her way into her own Jamaican heritage, avoiding the trap of gratuitous violence against Black bodies onscreen, and why horror was the only genre that could hold this story.

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dress. Karen Millen
bracelet. Sinner in Pearls

You’ve moved between acting and writing. Does one inform the other, or do you switch mindsets completely between the two?

I think they absolutely inform one another. Although I had no formal training as a writer, as an actor you can tell pretty quickly whether a script is good or bad. Good dialogue is easy to remember and simple to deliver. It has a flow to it. Both disciplines are basically storytelling — characters working toward an objective and meeting obstacles along the way. The real challenge in both disciplines is making that storytelling engaging and authentic.

Was there a specific moment when you knew you wanted to write and create your own series rather than just act in other people’s?

I don’t remember there being any specific moment. When I was in my 20s, people were more skeptical of multi-hyphenates. Anyone who called themselves an actor-director-producer I would write off as a sort of Del-Boy character. The temptation is always to shut up and stay in your lane. But every now and then I would watch a play or read a TV script and think “Well, I can do that.” At some point you have to put your money where your mouth is, and hopefully, people will respond positively.

Genre-wise, you’ve worked across comedy, drama and now supernatural horror. Is horror a genre you’ve always gravitated toward, or is Possession a new direction for you?

I’ve always loved horror. I directed a short film, Canvas 5, in 2021, which won best short at the Edinburgh Film Festival. I also played ‘Nell’ in ‘Something Very Bad is Going to Happen’ this year, which was a fun take on the genre. Work is hard to come by as both an actor and writer, so doing work that aligns with my taste is a real treat.

Looking back at ‘Misfits’ early in your career, how do you think that show shaped the kind of storytelling you’re drawn to now?

‘Misfits’ was a simple but brilliant concept, but in my opinion its strength was the characters and dialogue. You can have the best idea in the world, but it’s the execution that really makes it sing. That said, I do enjoy stories that have fantastic or magical elements, even if they are subtle. I want narrative to do what documentaries can’t — be boldly, wildly imaginative.

top, bralette + trousers. Margene
shoes. Essen
earrings. Maison Lumiere
bracelet. Retro Chic
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top. Margene
earrings. Thomas Sabo

‘Possession’ started life as ‘Inheritance’, based on an idea by Jefferson Bannis. What did that original idea look like, and how did it evolve into the story you ultimately wrote?

Jefferson had an incredible idea for a story — an enslaved man lives to the present day and launches a legal case for his own reparations. Jenny Van De Lande, a friend of mine who was then working at Snowed In Productions, took me for lunch and asked if the idea interested me and how I might handle it as a writer. I was immediately taken by it and wanted to be involved, and we slowly started to build out the world and characters.

The series blends gothic horror with colonial history and inheritance. Why was horror the right genre to explore those themes rather than a straight drama?

The enslavement of Africans was a real-life horror story. That said, I didn’t want to make another show in which black bodies are brutalised for ‘entertainment,’ so we avoided that. We know what that looks like, and we don’t need to be beaten over the head with it. Each of our characters, at some point, is fighting for survival — whether they are victims of chattel enslavement, outcasts of society or battling supernatural forces. So, yes, there are moments of violence, tension and horror — but they earn their place. Nothing is gratuitous.

Claudia’s story is rooted in a very personal haunting — how much of the emotional core of the series came from your own family history or connection to Jamaica and Britain?

Even though I have Jamaican heritage, I don’t feel very culturally connected to Jamaica. That’s definitely where Claudia is at the start of episode one. I think we may have a shared internal shame or guilt about our lack of connection. Perhaps I was exorcising something personal in this script, and reclaiming that Jamaican identity.

How did you approach writing the plantation setting of Hope Hill so that it functions as both a literal location and a kind of psychological space?

There are two period strands in the show (the present day and the 1760’s). Hope Hill house is the device from which we move from one time period to the other. The location has to feel timeless, suggesting both opulence and generational wealth, but also feel remote, abandoned and unloved. It is a metaphor for how the wealth generated from enslavement has survived to the present day.

top + trousers. A-Jane
shoes. Pleiades
earrings. Ysso
opposite
top. Jaki
earrings. Thomas Sabo
ring. Sinner in Pearls

What was it like collaborating with Storm Saulter as director — how involved were you in shaping the visual and tonal direction of the show?

I loved working with Storm. We were so lucky to have him and his eyes on the scripts from early on in the process. Although I have Jamaican heritage, I’m culturally British, and Storm filled in so many gaps which grounded the script with an authentic Jamaican voice. He calls his take on the scripts tropical noir — Claudia is a detective pulling on a string, drawn into something far-reaching, complex and dark. However, the colour, energy and tone feel wholly Caribbean; there’s a saturation, a brightness and colour that is distinctly Jamaican. He is not afraid of being colourful, and I love that.

With Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Jonny Lee Miller, Bel Powley and Sheldon Shepherd all playing characters you created, was there a moment where an actor’s interpretation changed how you saw your own writing?

I don’t think anyone’s interpretation changed the writing, but it certainly elevated it. I gave the patois a shot, and Sheldon and the rest of the cast graciously made it their own and authentic to their own way of speaking. That I found really exciting.

Filming spanned both Bristol and Jamaica — how did shooting in two very different places shape the tone of the finished series?

There is an energy totally unique to Jamaica — the heat, the colour, the sound; there’s always a couple of sound systems competing in the street. We turned up the dial on this against a more muted grey and blue in Bristol. Bristol was a major port in the slave trade, and it was built on the wealth generated there. To ground our world and make it authentic, we needed to shoot in Jamaica. Given the themes of colonialism, it felt essential.

Now that ‘Possession’ is finished and about to air, is there anything about the finished series that surprised you compared to what you set out to make?

I’m always happy to watch with new audiences and hear them scream in fear, then giggle at a line from Mercy (played by Nadean Rawlins). Although some of the themes are heavy, it’s nice to see the lighter moments break through.

After creating and writing your own series, do you see yourself continuing down that path, or are you still keen to keep acting alongside it?

I would like to keep my career as varied and diverse as possible. I love both acting and writing. Ultimately I would love to write material for myself. I’m really interested in comedy and would love to do that one day.

blazer. Margene
earrings. Maison Lumiere
opposite
top + bralette. Margene
trousers. STPLE
shoes. Pleiades
earrings + bracelet. Thomas Sabo

photography. Kayla Raquel Middleton @ Sunday Agy
art direction. Emily Reid @ Sunday Agy
fashion. Ruta Jane
casting. Emma Fleming
talent. Karla Crome
hair. Stefan Bertin @ A-Frame Agency using Amika
make up.Kenneth Soh @ A-Frame Agency using Vieve
production. Clara La Rosa
interview + editor. Kelsey Barnes
fashion assistant. Alex Bradley
special thanks. Michael Baker @ Sunday Agy