The following questions and answers are excerpted from a conversation that followed the NBR screening of Twinless.

I’m curious about your collaboration process. Did you have a chance to rehearse, or was it more about trading ideas before filming?
Dylan O’Brien: It went on for a while, actually. For years we were getting passed on by financiers, so in the meantime we kept checking in, updating each other, commiserating. That ended up being invaluable, because we built a real relationship before the cameras ever rolled. You can’t predict chemistry, but you can align on taste and life experience. We had so many conversations, not just about the film but about who we are as people. That made the collaboration feel organic once we started.

James Sweeney: We do have different working styles, but they complemented each other. I come from theater and focus heavily on text analysis. I like repetition, I like a lot of takes, and I don’t tire of it. Dylan, on the other hand, is fast and spontaneous: he trained on a breakneck TV schedule. So he thrives on immediacy. We had to find a balance, but those differences actually led to happy accidents! Filmmaking is about creating the right environment so those sparks of honesty can happen.

Writing, for me, is rewriting

Can you talk about the experience of directing while you’re also acting?
JS: On my first microbudget film I didn’t even have playback. Here we had a VTR operator so I could check things technically: camera moves, blocking, stuff like that. But honestly, I didn’t have time to review take after take. And as an actor, when the scene feels good in the moment, you can trust that. The hardest part wasn’t acting and directing, it was producing at the same time… like, the loan was literally in my name. As a producer you’re fighting to stay on time and on budget; as a director you’re fighting for the creative. That tension was brutal.

DO: Normally producers buffer the director from those pressures. But James had to carry it himself, which is a huge emotional burden. What impressed me is how prepared he was. His shot lists were incredibly precise. He knew if something was a single shot, he committed to it. That clarity conserved our energy and maximized our days. I’ve worked with really accomplished filmmakers who still doubt themselves, who shoot coverage “just in case,” and waste hours… James never did that.

JS: I think my acting background helped. I was always conscious of continuity, of what it takes for actors to build a performance. Even in scheduling I was strategic—we shot the rougher scenes before a holiday break, then returned for the more pivotal material so Dylan could make both a physical and emotional transformation. That kind of planning really mattered.

I have to ask about the fight scene. How did you approach performing and shooting that?
JS: Honestly, Dylan did the heavy lifting. We had a great stunt coordinator, and we lucked out with one of our supporting actors, who happened to be a gymnast. That made the choreography flow. We shot it in freezing weather, no stunt doubles, and it all played out practically.

DO: Dancers and gymnasts are perfect for stunt work—it’s choreography. He was incredible. And we leaned on James’ detail-oriented eye. After takes I’d say, “That hit didn’t land, we need another,” and we’d check playback together. It was fascinating to see James apply his meticulousness to something as chaotic as a fight scene.

JS: I also had to push back a little. Our Steadicam operator wanted to shoot it like a typical action sequence, constantly moving. But that wasn’t the film’s visual language. I wanted minimal coverage and wide shots, something more deliberate. The choreography was strong enough to hold. In moments like that, you need the confidence to stick to your vision.

James, the film balances humor and poignancy, and has such careful pacing. It’s a wonderful script. What’s your writing process like?
JS: I wrote the first draft back in 2015, after a breakup. Writing, for me, is rewriting. The structural skeleton of the film, its plants and payoffs, took years to refine. Originally it was entirely from one character’s perspective. Around 2019, I shifted to a dual perspective, which unlocked the story. It let us see one protagonist solely through the other’s eyes before switching. That structural choice was pivotal.

I also believe in doing “character drafts.” I’ll read through the script from just one character’s point of view: does this feel authentic, does this person have agency? That process gave secondary characters real depth. For example, Marcy’s moment of drawing a boundary—“you can’t talk to me like that”—came late, but once I added it, she felt fully realized.

The consistency of perspective mattered too. The film starts from Roman’s POV, then shifts to Dennis, and finally uses split-screen to share perspective. We never deviate from that. For me, grammar in storytelling is as important as grammar in language. Once you set the rules, you follow them. That discipline guided the writing.