Sarah Miro Fischer began her film studies at the Escuela Nacional de Cine in Bogotá before returning to Germany, where she gained experience in script development, set management, and as a 2nd AD. Since 2018, she has been studying at the German Film and Television Academy Berlin, developing her craft through various projects as a scriptwriter and artistic consultant. Her short film Spit (2021) earned a special mention at the New York Imagine This Women’s International Film Festival in 2022. The Good Sister (2025) is her feature film debut, a gripping psychological drama that explores the moral complexities of family loyalty and justice.

Unlike conventional narratives centered on victims or perpetrators, The Good Sister shifts the focus to the aftermath, examining the emotional and ethical turmoil of Rose, a woman forced to confront her brother’s actions. The film depicts the unsettling reality that perpetrators often exist within familiar circles, challenging societal perceptions of complicity and justice. Fischer co-wrote the screenplay with Agnes Maagaard Petersen, aiming to explore the difficult questions surrounding responsibility, guilt, and moral ambiguity.

Straight after the Berlinale, we had the priviliged to speak to Fischer and discuss the challenges of shaping Rose’s internal conflict, the importance of visual storytelling in mirroring psychological states, how The Good Sister seeks to provoke conversations about accountability in an era of heightened awareness around sexual violence.

Working with an actress like Marie is a huge gift because she has a broad understanding of human nature and translates it very intuitively into her acting.

View of the Arts: The Good Sister shifts the focus from the victim and perpetrator to a sibling deeply entangled in the aftermath of a crime. What drew you to exploring Rose’s moral and emotional turmoil, and how did you approach portraying her internal conflict?

Sarah Miro Fischer: I had this question stuck in my head: Why do I know so many survivors of sexual violence but no perpetrators? That was the starting point, which I shared with Agnes Maagaard Petersen, who joined me in co-writing the script. We felt that the conversation around sexual violence is so charged (understandably so) that it’s hard to even consider that a perpetrator could be among our inner circles. They always seemed to be “the others.” We wanted to understand why and found that perhaps part of it is because the closer they are, the more our minds start playing tricks to preserve the images we have of ourselves. There is a stigma around victimhood, but there also seems to be a persistent stigma or idea of the “bad man” or “monster” who lives far away from our safe homes.

VOA: Rose’s journey is deeply internal – she grapples with love, guilt, and self-identity. How did you work with Marie Bloching to shape such a layered, emotionally complex character?

SMF: It was neccesary to avoid judgment of the character. Working with an actress like Marie is a huge gift because she has a broad understanding of human nature and translates it very intuitively into her acting. We rehearsed to get to know each other and to find the details in her character – her body language – becoming precise about the moment of this character’s life where the film starts. We essentially created a much broader character that we then could pick aspects of for the scenes in the film. I also like working with secrets. A secret wish or wound, something that moves them, but they can’t share with the others.

VOA: The film resists categorising characters as purely good or evil. How important was it for you to portray moral ambiguity, and did you face any challenges in maintaining that balance?

SMF: I think it is crucial to look at all characters as humans with conflicting needs and capabilities. Maybe Rose has an idea of what feels wrong but doesn’t know how to access what feels right. When we don’t impose judgment as filmmakers, the audience is asked to bring their own experiences into the film while watching it. It becomes harder to distance yourself from the question the film aims to ask: “What would you do in her place?” I believe that moral ambiguity is part of life. It seems less visible when you’re far away looking at something. The closer you get to a person, a situation, or a conflict, the more ambiguity you will be able to see. To me, that’s where it becomes interesting.

Responsibility requires action. That would be a good first step to consider. That maybe it’s not easy to always see what’s right and wrong, but as long as there is a process, there is movement.

VOA: The cinematography plays a significant role in mirroring Rose’s psychological state, particularly through the transformation of the family home. Can you talk about your collaboration with Selma von Polheim Gravesen in using visual language to enhance emotional storytelling?

SMF: Selma Von Polheim Gravesen (DP) is a very emotionally smart person. She connects on a direct emotional level to a script to approach the visual work. We started our conversations by finding a clear perspective for Rose. We wanted to stick to her emotional experience throughout the film and never reveal more with the camera than what she knows. We were clear in our decision that the film lives largely through the acting of its characters, so we decided to give them as much space as possible and be precise and subtle in the visual language to underline certain aspects of storytelling. In the beginning, we move more freely with Rose – handheld, intuitive camera work was our choice there to mirror Rose’s emotional world in relation to her brother. As Rose loses her freedom around her brother, so does the camera – more static images, looking at her through doorframes, etc. We also talked a lot about what we don’t want to see – the physical barriers and the intimacy that eventually becomes claustrophobic.

VOA: Family loyalty versus moral responsibility is a central theme in The Good Sister. Do you see Rose’s struggle as reflective of broader societal conflicts regarding complicity and justice?

SMF: In sexual assault cases, there are mostly only two parties present. It’s very hard to gather evidence. It almost seems like we need the perpetrators to confess in order to get the number of convictions closer to reality. Therefore, I believe it is necessary to break certain stigmas and question whether social exclusion is the best way to deal with perpetrators. Cognitive dissonance is a powerful self-defense mechanism. There is a danger that if we don’t change the way we view both ourselves and perpetrators, they will always be “the others.” I also realized that most people feel powerless if they are not directly affected by a conflict. During the writing process, I learned – together with Rose – that this is not true. Our actions do have the power to bring change, even when we’re just bystanders.

VOA: The open-ended conclusion leaves audiences with more questions than answers. What do you hope viewers will take away from this ambiguity, and did you ever consider a more definitive ending?

SMF: I want people to put themselves in Rose’s shoes. What would I do in her situation? Maybe even in Sam’s situation? With a more definitive ending, I believe you can go home satisfied. I wanted people to keep searching for what they believe is important. With an even more open ending, I think the conversation might also shift to more general questions about the filmmakers’ positioning, which I wouldn’t find helpful in this case either. It was a fine line to land on, and I hope we did.

I think it is crucial to look at all characters as humans with conflicting needs and capabilities. Maybe Rose has an idea of what feels wrong but doesn’t know how to access what feels right.

VOA: Anton Weil’s portrayal of Sam is both chilling and deeply human. How did you approach directing his performance to ensure that the film did not excuse his actions while still presenting him as a three-dimensional character?

SMF: Maybe a big part of that was being very precise in constructing the night of his crime – what happened before, what he felt during, etc. It was a dark place to go, to be honest, but I think it was necessary to discover the characters desires, fears, and demons. We worked a lot with music (for all the characters but especially for Sam) because I believe music connects directly to emotions without evaluating them.

I also think we find both love for and distance from his character through Rose’s eyes. When she removes herself from him, we don’t see him for a while. When she comes back and looks at him differently, he looks and behaves differently because he, too, has gone through a transformation while we were with Rose. A lot of the balance lies in the decisions around sticking to Rose’s experience.

VOA: The Good Sister invites audiences to examine their own moral boundaries. Were there any ethical dilemmas you faced while developing the script, particularly in portraying the emotional aftermath of a sexual offense?

SMF: Of course! We examined every aspect of it (that we could find) very carefully. I remember us not knowing how Rose would decide for the longest time while writing. The ending only revealed itself to us late in the process. Other things were clear from the beginning – we didn’t want to show the sexual violence against the woman. It was important to us to give Elisa (the survivor) a strong scene where she could take the lead without having to be morally impeccable and so on.

VOA: The tension in The Good Sister often comes from what is left unsaid. How did you approach dialogue and silence as tools for building suspense and emotional depth?

SMF: Partly because it is so hard to talk about sexual violence – there are so many taboos around it. It’s very easy to use the wrong words or be misunderstood. The fact that they are siblings makes it even harder. I also truly believe that most of what we say is expressed through our eyes or bodies. Words often feel insufficient or incomplete for the complexity of communication – it’s all woven together.

VOA: In a time when conversations about sexual violence and accountability are more public than ever, how do you hope The Good Sister contributes to these discussions, particularly in reshaping how we view the people closest to perpetrators?

SMF: I would like to introduce the idea that anyone can be a perpetrator. Just because this word alone feels so far away and distant it seems impossible to use for loved ones. I also want to take a look at the role of the people around them – the consequences they must deal with and the responsibility they must take. Responsibility requires action. That would be a good first step to consider. That maybe it’s not easy to always see what’s right and wrong, but as long as there is a process, there is movement.

Written and interviewed by Maggie Gogler

Featured image courtesy of Sarah Miro Fischer

_{View of the Arts is an online publication dedicated to film, music, and the arts, with a strong focus on the Asian entertainment industry. While we already offer rich content to our readers, we aim to expand our reach and grow alongside our audience by exploring Asian music in greater depth. At the same time, we remain committed to preseng the vibrant and ever-evolving global landscape of film, music, and the arts, celebrating the immense talent and creativity that shape these industries worldwide.}