Australian actress Rose Byrne has built one of the most versatile careers of her generation, moving effortlessly between drama, horror and comedy. From her early breakthrough in The Goddess of 1967to international recognition in Damages, 28 Weeks Later and Bridesmaids, Byrne has consistently embraced complex female characters.

This year marks a new high point: she won Best Actress at the 58th Sitges Film Festival for If I Had Legs I’d Kick You (Si pudiera, te daría una patada), a daring and emotionally raw performance that has also earned her an Oscar nomination. In Sitges, Byrne received the same prize for Best Leading Actress for her omnipresent portrayal of a therapist on the brink—physically and mentally exhausted, caring for a gravely ill daughter, coping with an absent husband and watching her house literally collapse around her. Beyond cinema, Byrne has often expressed her love for Spanish culture. One of her favorite books is The Diary of Anaïs Nin: 1931–1934 by Anais Nin, a writer of Spanish family origins and the only Spanish author she recalls having read. “Her candid and arresting narrative is endlessly enticing, romantic and tragic. She captured my imagination completely,” Byrne says.

Q: You’ve described If I Had Legs I’d Kick You as one of the most important experiences of your career. Why?

Rose Byrne: Creatively, it has been one of the greatest highlights of my life. Working with Mary Bronstein and being given the opportunity to play Linda was incredibly challenging. I’ve had complex roles on television, but this was by far the most demanding part I’ve had on film. It stretched me technically and emotionally. Film is such a precise medium—the camera is so intimate. Everything is visible in your face. Being confined entirely to Linda’s perspective, with the camera so close, felt daunting at first. But I realized it was a rare opportunity to grow as an artist. It changed me. And of course, the recognition has been extraordinary and surreal. It’s a small film, made in just 25 days, with very limited resources. The character is the film and the film is the character. So when the performance is acknowledged, it feels like the whole movie is being honored. Winning Best Actress at Sitges was deeply meaningful to me, especially in Spain.

Q: The opening scene, with the ceiling collapsing, is unforgettable. What was it like to film that?

Rose Byrne: It was incredibly complicated because we only had two chances to get it right. Mary wanted the most authentic, raw reaction possible. It’s such a bold opening—you’re immediately thrown into catastrophe. Anyone who has had something go wrong in their house knows how destabilizing that can feel. It’s literal and metaphorical at the same time. Things are physically crashing down around Linda, but emotionally and psychologically she’s also collapsing.
There’s something almost Lynchian about it. There are horror elements in the film, and I love that genre because it asks questions rather than providing neat answers. From that first scene, you understand you won’t know what’s around the corner. The tone is unpredictable.

Q: The film has been received very differently at festivals like Sitges and now you are nominated to the Oscar. How has that felt?

Rose Byrne: It’s fascinating. In New York, audiences immediately recognized the dark comedy and they laughed right away. In Toronto, with a younger crowd, it felt almost like a horror film. Young people, especially, have surprised me. They’re not afraid of its intensity. They dive straight in and ask the hardest, smartest questions. That’s been a gift.
The movie is a bit of a magic trick. It reflects the audience back to themselves. You might expect one kind of experience and get another entirely. That’s rare in cinema today.

Q: Linda challenges the clichés of motherhood and therapy. Was that intentional?

Rose Byrne: Absolutely. The film questions how far you can push a character—and how far an audience will follow. Linda dismantles certain therapeutic phrases and conventions in a very punk way. She blows them up. Whether she’s right or wrong isn’t the point. It’s about asking the question. It’s especially provocative because she’s a mother. People have strong ideas about how mothers should behave. This character defies those expectations.
Mary isn’t standing on a soapbox, but she’s making a powerful creative statement. Art is most exciting when it makes you reflect afterward.

Q: As a mother yourself, did that influence your performance?

Rose Byrne: Becoming a mother inevitably changes you. There’s a before and after. Those experiences live in your body and nervous system. But I was more interested in who Linda was before motherhood. Who was she? What shaped her? That curiosity helped me understand why she behaves the way she does.
My own children haven’t seen the film—definitely not this one! They’ve seen the Peter Rabbit movies, and that’s enough for now. They have a healthy distance from what my husband and I do, and I respect that.

Q: The film balances darkness and humor. How did you approach that tightrope?

Rose Byrne: I’m naturally someone who laughs in tense situations. It’s very Australian—we have a tendency to use humor in times of crisis. From the script, I felt the humor was always there. Mary has a wonderful sense of humor, and we were very aligned.
If you lean too far into slapstick, it becomes unbelievable. If you lean too far into tragedy, the audience can’t breathe. You have to let air into the machine, as Mary says. Riding that tightrope was essential.

Q: Conan O’Brien’s appearance as the therapist is a surprise. What was that like?

Rose Byrne: It was such a joyful surprise. The “dream” scene is, to me, one of the funniest sequences. It gently pokes fun at therapy tropes. Linda manipulates the situation to keep him talking. It’s playful and sharp at the same time. At the New York Film Festival, people were howling with laughter. That scene was a wonderful opportunity to inject humor early in the film.

Q: You’ve said you love Spanish culture. What draws you to it?

Rose Byrne: I’ve always been fascinated by Spain—its cinema, its history, its art. Being honored at Sitges meant a lot to me personally because of that connection. One of my favorite books is The Diary of Anaïs Nin: 1931–1934 by Anaïs Nin. Her family had Spanish origins, and she’s the only Spanish author I distinctly remember reading. That volume of her diaries captivated me. It’s romantic, tragic, and so candid. She completely captured my imagination.

Q: Finally, how do you calm down after such an intense role?

Rose Byrne: (Laughs.) Maybe a glass of wine—though I’m not sure that’s professionally recommended. Acting is such a technical and collaborative process.
There’s so much preparation, and then suddenly someone says “Action,” and that moment belongs to you. It’s private, almost sacred. No one can take that away. And when it works—when you feel that lift-off—it’s extraordinary.
Winning in Sitges, being recognized internationally—it’s all very humbling. I pinch myself constantly. But at the heart of it, I’m just grateful to have been given the chance to bring Linda to life. Art should challenge us. It should ask questions. And if this film has done that, then I feel very proud.