Armenian filmmaker Tamara Stepanyan brings a deeply personal and poetic vision to cinema, blending memory, history, and emotion into her work. As a child, she was first introduced to Armenian cinema in the family living room, watching films that sometimes featured her father, renowned actor Vigen Stepanyan. Growing up in an artistic household during the final years of the Soviet Union and later emigrating to Lebanon, she developed a deep appreciation for storytelling and its ability to bridge past and present.
Her latest documentary, Mes Fantômes Arméniens (My Armenian Phantoms), is both an intimate tribute and a cinematic exploration, weaving together archival footage, family videos, and excerpts from Armenia’s rich yet underappreciated film history. As the film premieres at Berlinale, Stepanyan reflects on her creative journey, the challenges of revisiting history through cinema, and the emotional weight of directing a project so closely tied to her own life. In this exclusive interview, she shares insights into her artistic process, the power of documentaries, and what this milestone means for her career.
AM: How did you approach the creative process for this film? What was your brainstorming and research like?
Tamara Stepanyan: The film was born from a deep personal loss—the sudden passing of my father four years ago. I found myself revisiting his photographs and films, realizing that I still wanted to continue our dialogue. But how could I do that when he was no longer here? That moment planted the first seeds of the film.
I immersed myself in his photos and the films he acted in, which led me to explore over 200 Armenian films from the Soviet era. Watching them was an awe-inspiring experience—I took notes, reflected, and marveled at their beauty and power. Some of these films I had known as a child, others as a student, and many I discovered for the first time during this journey. It felt like opening a treasure chest.
The more I watched, the clearer my vision for the film became. I had in-depth discussions with my consultant, Vigen Galstyan, who helped me understand the deeper layers of this cinematic history. Around the same time, I pitched the project to my producer, Céline Loiseau, who immediately connected with it. She saw how deeply personal the film was, and I knew she was the right person to produce it.
This brainstorming process extended to my editor, Olivier, and my co-writer, Jean-Christophe. There was a great deal of research, reflection, and questioning—all essential steps in shaping the film.
AM: What were the main challenges you faced during production?
Tamara Stepanyan: One of the biggest challenges was the sheer amount of material I had to go through. Watching so many films was time-consuming and emotionally demanding, but it was a necessary process, and I allowed myself the time to do it properly.
I also conducted extensive research at Armenia’s national film archives. I went through large boxes filled with Soviet-era film scripts, censorship notes, committee reviews, and documents from an authoritarian system that controlled artistic expression. This research helped me shape the film into what it is today. It was a process of watching, reading, and uncovering history.
AM: What was it like directing your father, Vigen Stepanyan?
Tamara Stepanyan: Back in 2005, when I asked my father to play the lead role in my student film, he approached it with complete professionalism. We sat down for discussions as director and actor—he read the script, made suggestions, and asked questions. It was a typical creative process, and I deeply appreciated his approach. He wasn’t acting like a father trying to teach me something; he was an actor, fully engaged in the collaboration. That was truly special.
I had written a role for him in my feature film, and he was supposed to play it. We talked about it many times—he was waiting for that role. But he passed away before we could start shooting. This summer, I finally made the film, with one of his closest friends stepping into the role. It was an incredibly emotional experience for me.
AM: The film reflects some of the struggles of the current generation in the region. Is there a particular message you hope to convey?
Tamara Stepanyan: I don’t think of it as delivering a message—I see it as opening a space for thought and dialogue. I want to invite audiences, especially younger generations, to reflect on the past. How will they respond to this invitation? How will they engage with it? That, I cannot predict. Time will tell.
For me, what matters most is transmission—passing down history, memories, and resilience. This film is deeply connected to my own past: my childhood in Armenia during turbulent times, my youth in post-war Lebanon. Through wars, earthquakes, and hardships, people in our region have endured. That resilience is something I want to highlight.
AM: In your view, what makes documentaries powerful? How can they create a greater impact?
Tamara Stepanyan: Documentaries have the power to challenge, to provoke thought, and to drive change. What makes a documentary truly impactful, for me, is when it emerges from a place of deep personal truth. When the personal and the political intertwine, when genuine emotion meets historical and societal context—that’s where a film becomes powerful. That’s what I strive for in my work.
AM: Presenting your film at Berlinale is a major milestone. What do you hope this festival experience will bring to your career and the broader industry?
Tamara Stepanyan: This is my fourth feature documentary, and I feel like I had to walk a certain path before arriving here, at Berlinale—a festival I admire deeply. It means a lot to present this particular film in Berlin. When Barbara Wurm, the director of the Forum section, invited the film to Berlinale, it felt like the right time and place for it.
I believe the film’s themes—the intersection of personal history, politics, and collective memory—will resonate with audiences here. Being part of a festival like Berlinale also brings a greater sense of responsibility. It pushes me to continue making films, to keep exploring and telling these stories.