When concert pianist Mia Nox’s thoracic spine shatters in a freak accident just weeks before her Carnegie Hall solo, her carefully constructed world begins to unravel. A younger lover books her coveted Lincoln Center audition, signs with her manager, and drifts toward another woman while Mia lies paralyzed, questioning whether the man she trusted is quietly stealing the life she built. But for writer-director-star Kristina Klebe and her partner Byron Clohessy, Noxturne is far more than fiction. Drawing directly from Klebe’s own devastating spinal injury and long, terrifying recovery, the film fuses psychological suspense with dreamlike surrealism to explore bodily vulnerability, control, desire, and identity through a distinctly female lens. In an intimate Zoom conversation with AMFM Magazine’s Paul Salfen, the couple opens up about turning personal nightmare into catharsis, shooting on favors and sheer will, and why sometimes the only way forward is to jump.
A Film Born from Brokenness
Noxturne follows Mia Nox, famous for her mesmerizing renditions of Chopin’s Nocturnes, as she dreams of reinventing herself with a brazen new lover by her side. One week before her Carnegie Hall performance, a freak accident changes everything. Unable to feel her legs or press the pedals that once defined her, Mia finds herself dependent on a man a decade her junior whose motives grow increasingly suspicious. As physical wounds deepen into psychological ones, she must confront whether the person she loved is slowly taking everything that was once hers.
Klebe, who stars as Mia and made her feature directorial debut with the film, didn’t have to imagine the terror of a shattered spine. Roughly a year before cameras rolled, she suffered a life-altering fall that broke her back. “I heard my back crack,” she recalls. “That was like a moment I really tried to recreate… it’s almost like this muted cracking sound… dampened almost. And it was so scary.”
She entered production still in physical therapy and wearing a brace just six months earlier. “I think I was still in shock, weirdly,” Klebe admits. “I was probably still like in this trauma mode from the accident… nothing could be as bad as breaking my back.” Yet making the movie proved its own crucible. “Making a movie is so difficult. I think that’s what we… it was a huge life lesson, though, because at a certain point you just have to decide, am I going to jump and am I going to get on that horse or not?”
The Obsession That Carried Them Through
Byron Clohessy, who appears in the film and stood beside Klebe through every chaotic day, describes the production as a true “Hail Mary.” With limited time, resources, and a director still physically and emotionally raw, they leaned on family locations, favors, and relentless determination. Most of the film was shot in essentially one primary location, proving that constraints can spark creativity when used with intention.
Klebe’s detail-oriented preparation shone even under pressure. Unable to draw, she gathered visual references from other films to pre-visualize shots instead of traditional storyboards. Her cinematographer Jernigan captured the haunting tone, while colorist MTO and sound designers at Purple Dog elevated the post-production on goodwill and minimal budget. Most effects were achieved in-camera; only a few VFX shots were needed later.
One of the most powerful sequences — the intense confrontation at the end — was improvised. “We improvised the duel scene at the end where we’re fighting,” Klebe explains. “I recorded it and we just went back and forth and tried to kind of like work on what the where it went.” Clohessy praises her rigor: “She is very, very detail oriented… it’s so challenging to do this in a couple of weeks… you couldn’t tell that it was limited resources though. That’s actually my goal really… the worst thing that could happen is that this looks like it was made for [nothing].”
“Most People Do Not Have the Courage to Be Obsessive”
Klebe found unexpected guidance in the words of John Cassavetes: “Most people do not have the courage to be obsessive.” She embraced that philosophy fully. “This is my obsession now,” she says. “It’s been that way now for a while. I know [it will]probably continue to be this way for a while.”
That obsession carried her through 20 years of wanting to make a feature. A film minor in college who learned to edit on a Steenbeck flatbed, she treated every challenge as non-negotiable. “This is what I’ve been wanting to do for 20 years… I can’t give up now, no matter how hard it gets. Like I have to get to the other side… even if you’re like crawling to get there.”
The experience tested their relationship as well. “We had so much going on during that shoot,” Clohessy shares. “We almost broke up. But then we didn’t… we grew closer and… I’m so grateful for it.”
Universal Truths Beneath the Nightmare
Klebe hopes audiences see beyond the specific story of a pianist’s injury. “The truth is we… the feeling of being not being able to do the things that you’re used to doing… whether that’s through a physical injury or whether that’s through trauma or depression or even like during Covid when we were just kind of like stuck in homes. I think there are so many different ways that people could experience that… I hope that many people can feel the emotions that come behind that… And I hope that in that way it’s universal.”
She also offers a quiet but powerful metaphor: sometimes we must metaphorically “break down and get rid of the things that are hurting you and that are holding you back.” (In real life, she describes herself as “a total pacifist,” but the film allowed her to explore that necessary confrontation.)
Her director’s statement captures the core: “Noxturne is about how the journey of healing can be absolutely terrifying. To truly heal from anything in life, we must face our shadow… I have always been inspired by the deep connection between the mind and our physical bodies and this is my first foray into bringing that to the screen.”
Advice for the Next Generation of Storytellers
When asked what they would tell aspiring filmmakers, both were immediate and practical.
“Make your movie,” Klebe urges. “Write the movie based on your resources… what do you have available to you? Do you have a beautiful location where you can shoot something?… We had mostly one location and I think we just used it really well… Use your friends if you know any actors, don’t be scared also to call like an agent… write and make a personal story, right? Because that’s what we know. We all have personal stories. We all have something to say.”
Clohessy agrees: the key is committing fully and trusting your collaborators — even when the terrain is new and terrifying.
A New York Premiere and the Road Ahead
Noxturne recently celebrated its New York City premiere at the Big Apple Film Festival with a screening at Village East Angelica — a full-circle moment for a film shot in New York with so many New York cast, crew, and family members involved. Klebe’s parents and Clohessy’s family were in attendance, including his mother, who doubled for Klebe in a key nightmare sequence at their cottage.
Nearly three and a half years after her accident, Klebe says she is only now beginning to feel like herself again. “Making art is kind of a therapy of sorts… it’s a catharsis as well.” The film, she hopes, will open doors to more stories — and perhaps a little more breathing room on the next one. “I don’t even need infinite resources. I need just a little bit more, just a little bit.”
For anyone who has ever felt stuck — physically, emotionally, or creatively — Noxturne offers both a mirror and a lifeline: the reminder that you can make it to the other side, that facing the shadow is the only way through, and that sometimes the most powerful art comes from the places that nearly broke you.
Noxturne is now making its way into the world. Watch it. Feel it. And remember: the courage to be obsessive might just be what saves you.
Interview conducted via Zoom by AMFM Magazine’s Paul Salfen. Feature written for AMFM Magazine By Christine Thompson — The Voice of the Artist.
