Because Fleur breaks chronology in her book, fact and memory continually seep into each other. I wanted to preserve that. Through memories, the film carves a winding path through the story. This is underlined, for instance, by our use of camcorder footage. Such an image very clearly speaks the language of memory by emphasising the form. Here we are really being told: 'You are watching a film'. And just like in the mind, present and past can intertwine, consequently influencing and distorting each other. By letting the actors shoot these shots themselves, without a script, I was able to give the directing back to them for a piece in the process. Co-screenwriter Angelo Tijssens and I wanted to avoid the pretention of a biopic. We don't believe that a film can capture an entire person or a whole life, nor should that be pursued. However, Project 22 could only come about because of the specific dynamic between two people:  the friction of Fleur’s open, fierce character leveled with Julian's calm and deep sensitivity. So, we had to look for actors who shared an essential piece of being with them. Between Nina and Laurence, from the very first moment, there was the absolute chemistry, mutual admiration and playful competitiveness needed to tell this story.  

JULIAN is a melody of extreme movement to stillness and, silently, back again. You see how two people are lifted by their love, how it enables them to see further and think bigger than before. Project 22 is the outcome of a process of looking intently and with love at a significant other, becoming sensitive to the systems that oppress her/him/them and refuse to allow it. Knowing about inequality is one thing. But it takes a deeper knowledge, a kind of knowledge of the heart, to deepen our understanding and engagement. Only such a commitment enables two people to leave everything behind and face the world together. 

It is almost shocking how carelessly, how randomly death just walks into this story. How indifferently and even greedily life goes on until it just stops. But when someone has looked at us long enough with love and empathy, through the fog we can discover that we have grown into the form we have been given. There are no extenuating circumstances for Julian's death, but her love made Fleur stronger than she ever thought she could be. In this sense, to me, JULIAN has become a kind of testament to love as the ultimate force for good. Here we are shown with painful clarity how fragile life is, but also how full, how beautiful we can make it for each other.