Production design of “The Man in My Basement” – interview with Kathrin Eder
Continuing the ongoing series of interviews with creative artists working on various aspects of movie and episodic productions, it is my pleasure to welcome Kathrin Eder. In this interview, she talks about collaboration and fostering creativity, the importance of tactile work, challenging the viewers through her stories, the impact of Covid on the industry, and her thoughts on generative AI. Between all these and more, Kathrin dives deep into her work on the just-released “The Man in My Basement”.
Kirill: Please tell us about yourself and the path that took you to where you are today.
Kathrin: My name is Kathrin Eder, and I am a production designer. I’m originally from Austria, where I grew up in the time before cell phones and the Internet. My village didn’t have a permanent movie theater; instead, the convention center would occasionally be converted into one. That was where I first discovered Disney films, with their brutal storylines of loss and their magical approach to visual storytelling.
Later in my teen years, I felt a calling toward the visual arts. With my limited access to the university system in Austria, I applied to the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna but was turned down. Looking back, it was the best thing that could have happened to me. It led me to study social and cultural anthropology, which allowed me to explore philosophy, sociology, ecology, and the grand sciences that make up the human experience.
I always had a need to travel, and on one of my trips I met someone who invited me to Los Angeles. When I arrived, I realized I could pursue my curiosity for art in a different way than in Austria. I didn’t need pre-given talents – I could be curious and naive, and that freedom spoke to me. I originally wanted to become a screenwriter, without really knowing what that meant. But through a fine arts internship with local artists, I discovered production design and soon became an intern to a production designer on a music video.
The first time I stepped on set, I felt like production design had chosen me. It was one of those rare moments when everything made sense. From then on, with the support of friends who believed in my growth, I took filmmaking seriously. I wanted to understand storytelling, mythology, and world-building. That curiosity led me to teach myself design – by working on short films, collaborating with students, and starting out in the indie world. It’s been a journey now for about sixteen years.
Kirill: Is there anything that you’ve seen on your projects that was particularly surprising?
Kathrin: There’s a surprise in every story. I believe that as much as we choose projects, projects also choose us. Every story that enters your life is, in some way, connected to your own experience. Each project becomes a vessel – a moment in time where, through collaboration, you can reflect on your emotions, your pain, and sometimes your most personal experiences. I’m always struck by the unexpected moments when something – or someone – truly resonates. The first surprise is always the emotional connection you make.
As to execution, I believe creativity is malleable – there’s never just one right idea. Communication fuels creativity, and the most beautiful surprises for me always come when communication flows easily with collaborators. You enter a mental space that feels familiar from childhood. When you’re fully immersed in the creative process, there’s no fear and no boundaries. You’re in that place where judgment disappears, and reaching that point with colleagues is always a truly beautiful surprise.
Another surprise is that no matter how much you plan, there will always be coincidence. Coincidence can be a beautiful addition to what to what your plans are. Coincidentally, a color doesn’t turn out the way it should be. Coincidentally, a wallpaper that was shipped to you has water stains on one side and creates a new pattern. It’s tiny instances like that.
When you collaborate with others, you can never assume they’re seeing things the same way you do. You can’t assume they share your perspective or your assumptions. What comes out of that collaboration can be surprising – and often, endearing.
Lookbook development for “The Man in My Basement”, courtesy of Kathrin Eder.
Kirill: Do you feel that anybody can be an artist?
Kathrin: Yes, I think so. I don’t consider myself an artist. I consider myself a craftsperson – someone with many passions.
The reason I left Austria was because the image of “the artist” there felt so tied to old aristocratic principles, rooted in our history. It created something elitist, something I felt ordinary people couldn’t access – and I never liked that. To me, art prospers in conflict. Art prospers where there is struggle. It is a form of expression, a form of storytelling, and it runs in our DNA to be storytellers.
To become someone whose creations are appreciated by others, you need dedication and curiosity. You need to reflect on your own growth, to train your skills, to consistently be in dialogue with yourself. At its core, art is an expression of the human soul – and everybody carries it within them.
Kirill: Is there such a thing as objectively good and bad art? I have my own reactions to different stories, and so does everybody else, and different people like different things. But there are also some artists and works of art that are universally considered to be masterpieces. How do you see it?
Kathrin: I’ve thought about this so many times. Recently I was in Venice at a Da Vinci exhibit. You look at his work and you can’t help but bow your head – you’re humbled by the idea that some human minds simply think differently, with a clarity of vision that feels beyond reach.
In our world today, I feel that same sense when I look at certain directors and screenwriters – how they interpret the world and present it back to us. Their work moves us, teaches us, and immerses us in experiences we’ve never known before. One of my favorite authors is Ken Liu. When I read his short stories, I feel deeply connected to what it means to be human. No other writer has ever triggered that kind of emotional response in me. So yes, I do believe there are people of extraordinary talent.
But then there’s another conversation – about good and bad. As humans, our rationale is built on opposites and polarities. We like to categorize things, to orient ourselves. If there’s “good” art, then by judgment there must also be “bad” art – because we’re naturally biased. I do it myself. I don’t like certain pieces. That’s only human. I don’t have a clear answer. Sometimes you just ponder it, drift in it, and see where your thoughts take you. What I know is that I love appreciating the work of others when it truly touches me. That emotional connection – it makes me feel alive.
Lookbook development for “The Man in My Basement”, courtesy of Kathrin Eder.
