Sean Mongie Unveils the Dark Secrets Behind ‘The House That Never Sleeps’

As the passionate movie enthusiast that I am, I had the pleasure of delving into the captivating mind of Sean Mongie, the visionary writer-director behind the critically acclaimed short film, “The House That Never Sleeps“. During this enlightening conversation with Mongie, we journeyed through the origins of his masterpiece, grappled with the hurdles faced in materializing its hauntingly ethereal terrors, and pondered over the thought-provoking queries it presents about our very own perceptions.

How did the concept for The House That Never Sleeps come about?

One time, I found myself at a loss for words, and an idea struck me: perhaps if I could isolate myself and compel myself to write, it would be beneficial. It’s a somewhat harmful parallel to Stephen King’s notion of the necessity of a closed door during his writing routine.

As I delved deeper into the concept, it grew increasingly terrifying, symbolizing a warped form of creativity that lacks roots in inspiration, camaraderie, or teamwork.

How did you achieve the delicate balance… ensuring the magic realism felt grounded rather than purely fantastical?

The writing process served as my journey of exploration. At first, the idea leaned towards straightforward horror, primarily focusing on the surprising turn of events. However, as I delved into writing the script, it evolved significantly and transformed into an in-depth character analysis of an aging artist struggling to reconnect with his own happiness.

In terms of the narrative structure, a blend of practical realism intertwined with subtle enchantment seemed fitting for a tale exploring the art of storytelling – is it the product of laborious effort, or does it possess an element of mystique? I trust that viewers will be able to judge for themselves, as they watch the movie, whether the events depicted are genuine or simply the product of imagination.

Could you tell us how the architecture and various spaces were intentionally designed or utilized to reflect the psychological and emotional state of the artist within it?

In the initial versions of our script, there was an excessive emphasis on the common horror movie theme of haunted houses and cellars. However, this architectural style isn’t prevalent in our region, nor was it conveniently adaptable for filming purposes.

In my tale, the narrative primarily revolves around an artist who’s spent their entire life within a bookbinding atelier. Pieter Grobbelaar played multiple roles in this production, yet his most substantial contribution was undeniably guiding me towards the location that came to be known as The House. We scoured Johannesburg extensively for the perfect spot, filled with historical charm and atmospheric nooks – Doorfontein, Maboneng, Mayfair, Selby were just a few of our stops. However, it was Victory House in the Marshalltown banking district that ultimately fit the bill.

Instantly, I was captivated by its unique windows adorned with silhouettes reminiscent of humans. However, transforming it into a living world required meticulous attention to detail in the set design. I’m incredibly proud that, despite budget constraints, we successfully brought the eerie libraries and halls to life just as I had envisioned for our short film.

In our quest for a place that encompassed every aspect of the story about book creators and their immersion in literature, we soon realized such a spot didn’t exist. To bring this vast collection of thousands of books to the location was physically demanding for our set designers.

I had the privilege of collaborating closely with Alan Jeffrey, a renowned bookbinder who once worked at Brenthurst Library, upholding the integrity of his craft. A highlight of this experience was guiding Mothusi Magano in learning from Alan, particularly in the captivating aspect of ink marbling – one of the most mesmerizing parts of the profession.

Almost all the props and intricate details, including Ayanda’s apron, were sourced from Alan’s personal workshop, and I can’t express enough appreciation for his kindness in giving his time so freely. For shots where book-filled scenes proved challenging with regular set dressing, we spent a few hours filming at Collectors Treasury – an impressive eight-story labyrinth of books that I now feel a bit guilty for exposing my claustrophobic cinematographer to.

What message were you hoping to convey about the evolution of the artistic landscape in Africa?

In simpler terms, this African artist must take on numerous roles – from producer to publicist, writer, performer, and more. On a symbolic level, this movie delves into the price one pays for having to divide oneself to endure as an artist. I wonder if the film offers insights into what alternative might exist. I look forward to seeing if it provides some answers.

What was your process in developing Ayanda Mkhize? Was there a direct inspiration and did you write the part for Mothusi Magano?

In the initial version of the tale, Ayanda Mkhize was depicted as a young writer, enjoying the peak of his productive renown. However, while collaborating with script editor Julie Hall, and receiving funding from the NFVF, I found myself intrigued by the concept of delving into the consequences if such self-sacrifice persisted until resources were depleted.

Many African artists often grapple with a deep-seated apprehension. They tire, face repeated rejections and the journey towards creativity can seem like a delusion. Jonathan Kovel was the one who first introduced Mothusi to me – they had collaborated on the project “Of Good Report.

Ayanda is a subtly expressive individual, which was precisely what I sought. Mothusi possesses an exceptional talent for conveying profound depth with minimal actions. He seamlessly blends into his roles, making it a pleasure to collaborate with him. Our discussions prior to filming centered around the narrative and setting, but directing him felt almost effortless due to his deep comprehension of the character. Mothusi brought unique ideas for portraying the role, and I eagerly anticipate audiences experiencing his performance in this production.

What were some of the key decisions made in production design and art direction to achieve this timeless quality?

A significant aspect of the production process involved Ashley Sizwe Morley meticulously working for extended periods to breathe life into The House, creating an authentic lived-in feel. However, I believe a large part of the lasting beauty captured on screen is due to collaboration with cinematographer Jonathan Kovel, who carefully crafted the visual storytelling style. He employs a traditional technique in lighting and camera movement, which proved perfect for this narrative. As we aimed to portray a character trapped, we desired the scenes to have a painterly quality, ensuring that any motion appeared genuine and purposeful.

What was the inspiration behind the “device”?

The Box served as the initial spark for our story’s concept, but it required numerous revisions and script edits. We spent considerable time searching online for the perfect prop. Without revealing too much, we needed a replica of it to preserve some of its enchantment and allure. We worked tirelessly up until the last minute to prepare this duplicate for use on set.

Although there’s plenty of tales surrounding the Box’s beginnings and how Ayanda’s father discovers it, it essentially serves as a device that encourages viewers to imagine their own stories about it. Questions like “What would I do with this Box?” or “Would I act like Ayanda did?” become intriguing, allowing audiences to project their fantasies onto the object.

2025-07-14 15:43