Production design of “September 5” – interview with Julian R. Wagner
Continuing the ongoing series of interviews with creative artists working on various aspects of movie and TV productions, it is my pleasure to welcome Julian R. Wagner. In this interview, he talks about what is art, how this creative field adapts to technological changes – transition to digital, visual effects and generative AI, how he approaches designing his movies, and what keeps him going. Between all these and more, Adam dives deep into what went into making “September 5”.
Kirill: Please tell us about yourself and the path that took you to where you are today.
Julian: My name is Julian Wagner, born in Germany but would describe myself rather European than German. I am a Berlin based Production Designer, working mainly for film and television.
I was interested in art and architecture very early on. My father has been an architect and that certainly had a strong influence on me. When I was 13, I started acting on 2 Series and some years later as well for the Theater. Those years had a strong influence on my path, because my passion for narration and film in particular was born. During my short time at the theatre, I then realised that I would rather step behind the stage and camera to be able to create more myself. I was so fascinated by telling stories in a visual way and combining my interest in visual art and narratives. I was trying to bring both together, but it took quite a long time to find the right path.
I left movies for a while, and I became a photographer, mostly for fashion and beauty. Then I decided to study design and art in Italy, and I shifted the focus back to the creation of spaces and other forms. During these studies, I focused on Graphics and Media, and directed my first Music Videos. After completing my degree, I worked mostly on music videos and commercials for smaller companies. And at some point, a cinematographer I was working with on a music video asked me if I could do production design on his first short film. It was an appealing prospect, as I realized that I could take all the skills I had – designing, art, photography – and combine them with the way I told stories through music videos. From that moment on, I knew that I wanted to do production design on movies. I went back to the film academy in Ludwigsburg and studied production design.
Kirill: What is art? Is there such a thing as objectively good and bad art, or is it all subjective?
Julian: It’s an interesting question because everyone would answer this a bit differently. It also feels like the most fundamental question of all time if you’re studying art. You could also ask whether something in art is right or wrong.
Some argue that there are objective standards for evaluating art. Like for example technical skills – the artist’s mastery of technique and materials. From this perspective, we could also talk about composition or the use of visual elements such as balance, contrast and harmony. We could say this works and that doesn’t work. But isn’t that also a subjective view? We could talk about innovation. Is it something original? Or just an interpretation or a new edition of an existing work of art? We could talk about the emotional impact – the ability to evoke strong feelings or thoughts.
Taking these viewpoints, good art adheres to all those criteria, while bad art falls a bit short. But this is just one perspective.
The other perspective, and I find myself much more strongly in this one, sees art as something entirely subjective. I base the judgment of good and bad art on individual taste, cultural background, and the experiences you have had. In this view, the value of art lies in its ability to resonate with its audience, making the distinction between good and bad relative.
I see art not only as subjective but even more as a reflection of life itself. For me, it’s all about life, and this is what I bring as my contribution. I contribute my experiences in my life and how I see things, with all the struggles and joys. For me, art is deeply personal. The so-called objective criteria do not work for me and my understanding of art.
Ultimately, whether art is good or bad may also come down to the relationship between the work of an artist and the audience or the viewers. It is all about the relationship that we are building, especially in this art form of filmmaking.
Kirill: What do you see as the big changes in this field in the last 10-15 years?
Julian: There have been many changes in the field of art, particularly in film, over the last 20 years. To return to the evaluation of art, let’s consider cultural criteria. Art can be assessed based on different standards and within various contexts, and its value can change over time as cultural attitudes shift. Today, we are trained differently in addressing issues like racism, discrimination, and cultural responsibility – such as cultural appropriation. I still believe that art can and must provoke, but we must be cautious when it perpetuates harmful stereotypes or overlooks its impact on marginalized groups.
When I was working as a photographer, the industry was starting to move from analog techniques to the digital world. I learned to use large format cameras, and all my jobs were analog. Digital has changed the whole field of photography, and by extension, the field of filmmaking.
It’s only human to have anxiety about big changes, and the transition to digital brought a lot of anxiety about losing control. I remember that in the beginning everyone was overwhelmed with the possibilities of not being restricted by physical materials. A huge amount of material was shot. We were not thinking about the post production process – in photography and filmmaking. It took some time to realize how much more expensive the post production was getting because there was so much more material to go through and edit.
The digital possibilities were also significantly changing the way VFX was and is handled. In the beginning, we mainly worked with green screens. We were changing matte paintings from analog techniques to computer-generated imagery. When I was studying production design at the university, there was already a fair bit of VFX involved. I was already used to seeing VFX as a tool that provided me with a lot of options instead of limitations. I could generate sets that I could never afford, so I was quite open to this process. But I remember talking with designers who were rooted in the analog world, and they were a bit afraid of losing control or being replaced by VFX. They thought that it would be taking something from their art work.
This is still something we have to negotiate today. We must find a better balance around where things are created. We need to go back a bit and do the creation entirely in the preparation time. Same applies to the use of volumes.
And today we are discussing AI, and again, for a very good reason, we are afraid of losing control and of losing jobs. The technology is so appealing, and I see many producers, trying to find shortcuts and explore the possibilities of generative AI tools. I want to see the positive side of it. I think we will go through a similar process to what we experienced during the transition to digital and the transition to CGI. It’s a wave that is coming. And we’d better try riding the wave than swimming behind it. I think that in a few years we will have found a balance of how to use it to our advantage and where we have to stop and admit that it doesn’t work. And I believe that the Production Designer will become more and more a curator for AI generated art.
I use AI a lot to find inspiration and to strike a mood. I play with it when I approach a topic or think about a script. But it’s also limited, at least today. I can type in a prompt to get concept art in the style of XYZ and I can try dozens and hundreds of prompts, but I would always get a final image. I don’t see the process, and for me, the process is the most valuable thing. If I want to use a piece of concept art as a blueprint for the filmmaking process, I would always go to a human concept artist. I want to have a back-and-forth conversation, to go into more detail, to change things. With AI, it’s a black-and-white process. You type in a prompt, and you get an image back.
I need this process to be much more fluid. When I work with concept artists, I am inspired by their work and their thought process. A piece of software is just copying things, at least at the moment. It is not able to really create something. You feed that machine, and it gives you back a combination of some pieces that were fed into it. It might be a technically new image, but it’s not creatively inventive. But this is what I am looking for.
Kirill: Getting closer to “September 5”, what brought you to it?
Julian: I’ve worked with the director Tim Fehlbaum and also the producers on his previous movie “The Colony”. We had a great collaboration, and we all felt that we wanted to continue working together. So we were all very excited to get going together again.
This time, Tim collaborated with the writer Moritz Binder. Their first version of the script had a slightly different approach, as the story was told from multiple perspectives. The perspective of the media and the journalistic work has always been a strong part of the story, and at some point, they have decided to focus exclusively on this. We all immediately thought that this was an enormously strong approach. It did not take much time for Tim and Moritz to come up with a new script, and that was so exciting because it was a unique perspective. Focusing on the media and their responsibility gave the story an explosive quality that transcends the act of terrorism itself. I was hooked from the first line. I was excited to be part of it and to start the journey into this world.
Kirill: I didn’t get it from the beginning, but the more I was watching it, the more I saw the approach of telling the story from inside the studio, and everything else is shown on screens through cameras. How did this affect your focus when there’s so much time being spent in one place?
Julian: The decision to focus exclusively on the media and to experience the story through the eyes of the journalists naturally also had a huge impact on the genre. We were suddenly dealing with a chamber drama. A one-room thriller. So my perspective on this story changed in many ways. The Olympic Village becomes a gigantic stage where this tragic event takes place, while the entire story unfolds within a single, self-contained, and claustrophobic studio set. I found it particularly appealing to design this small world to convey a big story and to make it tangible. And I never felt such a huge responsibility as a filmmaker – and I think we all did.
I remember our first creative discussion with Tim, and he told me that he knew I tend to extend my creative freedom and love creating fictional worlds, but he asked me to create something completely authentic this time. I had to think about it because, in all the work I’d done up until that point, I had a lot of creative freedom. I try to do world-building that only supports the narrative, but this story was different. The main goal for us was authenticity. We were to create a world that felt real and tangible, a world that perfectly matched all the archive footage. We had to create a world that takes our responsibility towards the tragic event into account.
I love movies that take place in a contained space. When you can feel the clock ticking. You focus on one room and the actors in it, and you don’t have any time to take a break. It was all about authenticity, and yet there was a certain creative license that we needed to visually support the drama and the emotional world of our characters. This is how I view my role as a designer. I have to find this balance between reality and fiction, and especially on a story like this, the balance is a very thin line. If you go one step too far, you forget about the responsibility. But you can’t just recreate history. It never works.
This goes back to your question about art. It’s subjective. It’s a relationship between what we do and the audience. A lot of things have changed since the ’70s. Our perspectives have shifted. If you want to support these emotions and this narrative, you need to take a certain creative license.
Kirill: How much time did you have to research?
Julian: I started about a year prior to shooting. I didn’t work on it full time; it was more of a soft and fluid prep. I love this moment of filmmaking. There’s still no pressure. You can find your own vision. You have time to go to art exhibitions or to study art books. You go to the original Olympic Village compound to have a look at it. You digest all of it and your imagination takes over.
I spent 1 or 2 months coming up with the first visual lookbook about the style and the atmosphere. And about eight months prior to shooting, we started the research for all the technical devices. The set decorator Melanie Raab and our Prop Master Marco Böhm started to read the script, and we knew that it would take a long time to find all the technical equipment. We had the production buyer Johannes Pfaller on board early on to do this research with us. And he was in charge of the entire search and collected the devices.
Our first task was to find out what technical machines and devices were used and how the studios looked. We had a great exchange with the “real” Geoffrey Mason, who was there in Munich in 1972. He gave us details on the workflows, on the pace of the journalistic work, and the emotions around it. He also provided us with personal images from the crew, and from these images, we started our research. We didn’t have any photos that showed the studio itself, so we would look at the shots of some crew members, and check what was in the background behind them. We were talking with technical advisors to find out what machines and cables were hanging on the wall.
The research of the journalistic work became like investigative journalism itself. It was like a gigantic puzzle. We had images showing a control room, and it looked like these other images that we had, but as we did more research on technical devices, we started seeing the difference between images taken in 1972 and images taken later, in 1976 and into the early ’80s. Where we had blind spots we used our creativity to fill in the gaps. After that, we created a mood board for all the technical aspects, and we started chasing the cables, the phones, and the video machines.
We were going around talking to people. We went to the basements of all the TV broadcast studios. We went to museums and private collectors. We checked the Internet. We went from Germany to the Netherlands and to Italy and then to the Czech Republic. We started to collect everything we could find and store it in a studio in Munich. This was happening around December and January, 6-8 weeks before shooting. We had this significant moment when we stood there in the studio, and we realized that we were looking at the biggest collection of the technical gear from that era. Then we had only a few weeks left to reassemble, refurbish, and make it work again.
We wanted everything to work as it used to in 1972. The studio set had to work like a real studio set, and not just as a set build. We took our creative license where we needed to support the narrative and the emotions, and we recreated a real set. Everything worked from the screens down to buttons and even the glued-on memos were correct and ready for a close-up shot.
Kirill: I liked the part in the beginning that felt like a tribute to the era of film as a medium when the camera lingers on a film reel being threaded through the equipment. Was it a bit of nostalgia around film?
Julian: I think we all have a soft spot for nostalgia. I would maybe call it a passion for the analog technique. This is something that binds the core team around Tim together. Whatever we do, we always try to do in-camera. We don’t want to shift it to post. The first movie I did with Tim was a sci-fi production, and you would think there were a lot of VFX involved, but we reduced that to only a few designated shots. I like using the old analog tricks because you have total control and you know what you get already on set.
It also means a lot for the actors. You are putting them back in that time. In a way, it is not a fake set. It is a real analog TV studio that we built.
Our first intention was to have a continuous set so that Markus and Tim could follow their vision to work as a journalistic documentary team. They were following the characters and the narrative as the story unfolds. From the beginning to the end. This mirrors exactly what the journalists from ABC did. They were following the story, and we were following the actors. We created a continuous set instead of several mini sets, so cast and crew could maneuver freely from one room to another. All the lights were integrated in the set to make these long shots possible.
And our second intention was to create a set that worked like a time machine for the actors. We wanted the actors to forget about the real world outside. This means we needed to create a set inside the studio where you would never look behind a wall or a curtain, where you would never see scaffolding or any technical film equipment. Normally you go into a studio and you see all the lights and gear – but not in this case. You entered the studio and you stood directly inside the set. You could walk through every room, and every exit was linked to the set.
Kirill: Does it hurt a little bit to walk away from so much work after you are done on a production like this?
Julian: When the film is done, the artwork is completed. I never feel that I want to go back into the process and keep it. My father was an architect, and we had this discussion very often. His goal was to create things that last forever. He kept telling me that he understood my art form and my creativity, but that he couldn’t understand why I put so much effort into something that would be wrapped after a couple of weeks.
It’s a different approach. My work is a contribution to a film, and the film lasts forever – longer than any building could. This is the legacy of filmmakers. The set is merely the world where the film takes place. I’m glad that all these machines are now back in museums and with private collectors. Wherever they are, they can be seen. If we had kept them, they would have just been stored away.
Kirill: What was the most challenging or rewarding sequence or set for you on this production?
Julian: There is one particular sequence captures the essence of the movie for me. We have the voice of Jennings talking about the masked man on the balcony, and then he sends the 16mm material back to the editing room. Today we are used to getting an image immediately. Every image is just a mouse click away. It’s rare that someone tells you about an event, and you have to use your own imagination to picture it. In this film, it is as well about what we don’t see and this scene beautifully demonstrates the tension that arises when an image is withheld from us for an extended period.
This sequence shows all the processes that went into developing the film material and sending it to the editing table and sitting in front of the little screen, and then we see the masked man for the first time. Even though we all know this iconic image, it is still such a powerful moment in the movie. Then we go into the control room, and we see all the technical processes behind going live-checking their devices and sources, counting three-two-one, and then they go live! There’s so much tension in the room. And in the middle of this fascinating workflow there comes this moment when they realize that someone can get shot, and they don’t know if they can show it on live television. They go into the hallway, and the camera is following them. We move from a stunning technical world into an emotional discussion about the moral dilemma of journalistic ethics.
They only have a few seconds to solve this problem, and it tells us so much about the journalistic work. Back then they had no chance to really discuss the ethics and the moral compass. They had to follow the story and to do their work, and we can show it because we have designed the set and the structure in a way that we can move into the hallway and go back to the control room. It’s a 6-minute scene and we see everything we wanted to show. We feel that moral dilemma. We see the journalistic work.
I also love this scene because it was only possible through the close collaboration of all departments, guided by Tim’s strong vision. In this moment, everything comes together. And I am happy to have played my part in it.
The studio set and the control room particularly are the heart of the story. But I’m also proud of the smaller sets, that nobody would recognize as sets, because they are hidden between the archival footage. I’ve had some discussions with people who watched it, and most of the viewers take these little scenes as archival footage. We did have access to a lot of material, but a lot of it had to be re-created in a way that they blend seamlessly into the old footage. The masked man on the balcony was such a scene. Or the swim race with Mark Spitz in the beginning. Most of the Olympic Village footage was re-shot. It’s great to see how well it works when the audience can’t differentiate between the archival footage and the scenes we created. When nobody realizes that this has been designed, it probably means, that you have done a good job as a designer.
Kirill: Stepping away from this production for the last few questions, the industry has been hit hard in the last few years with the global Covid pandemic, and then with the two big Hollywood strikes. How do you see the industry faring these days?
Julian: We have witnessed some very tough changes and cuts. And the way life goes, we won’t be able to pick up where we left off. It’s like a hermeneutic circle – when we go into a crisis, we always interpret and evaluate it in terms of the big picture. In this case, the film industry. But our understanding of this industry already changes when we evaluate the crisis.
What does it mean for the industry at this moment? Covid changed a lot around politics and how we collaborate with other countries. It’s a sad evolution at the moment to see all these countries that are trying to protect themselves and make themselves more independent and less open. This is something that will be affecting our industry over the next years.
During Covid I was preparing the TV show called “The Swarm”, and I was lucky that I was able to go to Italy and stay there to work during the pandemic. There were no tourists, and I was lucky to see Rome and Venice without fighting through the crowds. The pandemic was tragic, but it was also a moment of being able to calm down a bit. At least for me.
The industry was melting at that point because most of the projects were shut down. Then we had the big strikes, and that hit me a lot as my focus was on international productions. Nothing was happening, and nobody knows how it’s going to look like over the next few months. I’m always hoping for the best, but we all see that it takes a lot of time to pick up again. The whole industry is afraid at the moment to spend money, not only because of Covid and the strikes, but also because of the shifts in the streaming industry. This is how I see it, at least. Everyone is very careful when and how to green light a project.
I hope this is going to change very soon, because we all want to work. So many creative colleagues are ready to go. There’s still money to do these projects, and sometimes I don’t really understand what we are waiting for. It feels like years ago we have been more brave to just start a project, and nowadays I feel like every single piece of the puzzle has to be in its place before we take off. As if every risk must be eliminated and every question answered. But this is not how filmmaking works. At least I have always experienced it as a process in which we solve problems while we are already moving ahead.
Kirill: What piece of advice would you give to your younger self when you were starting out?
Julian: I have two main rules when designing a movie. It is like a design mantra.
The first is to always think outside the box. This was something that I did quite early on, but I had to become a bit more brave to do so. This is an advice that I could give to every young designer. Understand the story and the idea behind the script, but don’t chase the words. Just because the set is described as an office building, it doesn’t mean it has to be an office building. What emotions are in the scene and the location? How can these emotions be visualized better and more impressively? Coming back to the art question – don’t lose the inner artist. Try to find your own vision in the script that is given to you.
And for the second advice I needed to get more experience. I always say: “those who are searching, cannot truly find”. Searching means that you already have an idea of what you’re looking for. But to truly find, you need to let go. Finding also means being open to something new, something unexpected.
For so many years I’ve shaped my vision, and then I went looking for that clear image. I would scout for a very specific image, and it worked quite well. I might have found the right location, and it had everything that I imagined, but there was no process. What about the unimaginable? I mostly found what I was looking for, but I missed so many, maybe more interesting things along the way. Today I still have a vision for something, and an idea about the style of the movie or maybe the locations. But then, when I’m on the road scouting, or just walking to my office, I try to let go. Instead of searching, I start finding inspirations.
This is even more important when it comes to collaboration. If your vision or your idea is already unchangeable, you’re not open enough to collaborate with others. You would just defend your own idea. This is something I would love to tell the younger me. And I still need to tell my “present self” from time to time.
Kirill: What keeps you going and staying in the industry?
Julian: It’s an engine inside myself that I have always felt since the very beginning. I feel the need to tell a story and to create a world, and this is what a film project is providing me. It can take me away from home for a long period of time, and sometimes it’s a burden, but I see it as a big opportunity. Sometimes I feel like a child in a sandbox. I’m getting all the tools and possibilities to play around. What can I wish more in a job? And I also get paid for it [laughs]. It’s a perfect match. I can’t imagine doing any other work. It’s what I love to do.
I think that applies to all filmmakers out there. We are driven by the need to tell stories.
And here I’d like to thank Julian R. Wagner for taking the time to talk with me about the art and craft of production design, and for sharing the supporting materials. I also want to thank Nathalie Retana and Jamie Miller for making this interview happen. “September 5” is out in theaters. Finally, if you want to know more about how films and TV shows are made, click here for additional in-depth interviews in this series.