Most visuals vanish as quickly as they arrive. We’ve all seen ads that dazzle but don’t move us and short films that look stunning but feel hollow. For Viktor Skogqvist, that’s not enough.
“I want the images to feel lived-in,” he says. “Like you’re stepping into someone else’s memory.”
Raised in Falun, Sweden, Skogqvist began filming friends skating down streets with a borrowed VHS camera. That early instinct to capture the emotional undercurrent of movement and light has since evolved into a cinematographic voice that’s earned attention at Sundance, SXSW, and in campaigns for brands like Adidas and Elkjøp.
From Natural Light to Emotional Weight
There’s a quiet discipline to how Skogqvist works. He listens more than he imposes. “It’s never about flashy visuals,” he explains. “It’s about atmosphere. What does the story need from the light? ”
On Urban Miner, a campaign for Elkjøp that mixed live action with 3D-animated Minecraft characters, Viktor had to walk the tightrope between technical integration and tonal authenticity. The result? A campaign that won the Grand Prix at Gullblyanten, Norway’s top advertising award, and still feels surprisingly human for something built on pixels.
“We had kids on set reacting to stand-in props, basically cardboard boxes, and still needing to sell that they were face-to-face with a Minecraft villager.”
“Even when dealing with CGI, the emotional tone has to be right. You want it to feel seamless, like both worlds belong in the same breath.”
Tension, Vulnerability, and Film Grain
The short film Flex might be Skogqvist’s most personal-feeling work to date. Directed by Babybaby (Josefin Malmén & David Strindberg), it follows a bodybuilder’s internal conflict, rendered in surreal visuals and shot with a gritty 16mm look.
The film’s layered visuals, floating mini bodybuilders, jagged lightning bolts, and warped mirrors echo the protagonist’s fractured self-image without ever overwhelming the emotional tone.
During one shoot, Viktor adjusted the lighting mid-take to catch the glint of uncertainty in the actor’s eye. “That shimmer,” he says, “it says more than dialogue ever could.”
Flex was selected for Sundance, SXSW, and the Atlanta Film Festival and later earned a Vimeo Staff Pick. But accolades aside, what makes it memorable is that balance of surrealism and truth, the lighting, rhythm, and composition echoing the character’s inner state.
Working Without a Net
Viktor didn’t go to film school. Instead, he learned by doing, first shooting for a Swedish snowboard magazine, then traveling the world with a 16mm camera, chasing storms and sunrises.
“It wasn’t glamorous,” he laughs. “Just a lot of cold toes and batteries dying in the snow. But it taught me to read light, to adapt. You learn quickly what matters in a frame.”
This DIY ethic still defines his approach. Whether on commercial sets or narrative shoots, he’s not the cinematographer who just shows up to light the scene. He’s involved from the first conversation to the final delivery, thinking about tone, narrative flow, and the emotional arc.
A 40-Year Soundscape
One standout moment was the Audio Pro anniversary commercial he shot with director Mats Udd. There were no product shots, almost no dialogue, just mood, memory, and texture.
“That one’s about sound, but it’s about silence. You had to feel the absence of noise.”
The gamble paid off: the piece won Sweden’s Guldägget Silver Egg and the Roy Awards’ Silver for Best Cinematography. But what Viktor remembers isn’t the trophies; it’s the restraint. “Sometimes the strongest image is the one that doesn’t shout.”
The Long Game
Skogqvist’s long-standing creative partnerships, especially with directors like Babybaby, reflect his belief in trust and evolution. “When you build something over time, you can take risks. You understand each other’s shorthand. You get braver.”
He hopes to DP a feature film in ten years. He imagines something restrained but powerful, a visual meditation on memory, time, or emotional silence, where the atmosphere speaks louder than the dialogue. But for now, he’s content chasing those small, perfect alignments, the quiet moments where everything just clicks in the frame.
“You know it when you feel it,” he says. “And hopefully, so does the audience.”
About the Author
Lina Östberg is a Stockholm-based writer and film culture journalist with a background in visual arts and a soft spot for 16mm. Her work explores the intersection of emotion, image, and narrative in contemporary cinema. She’s written for Indie Scene, Nordic Frames, and The Light Lab.
