Nicole Fahel

Nicole Fahel’s filmography is kinda wild, honestly. You look at her name and you’re like, oh, another indie filmmaker—nah, she’s got this edge. Bang! Bang! (2020)? Pure adrenaline. It’s that sort of movie that refuses to sit still, always chasing the next thrill, loud and unapologetic about it. There’s this raw, gritty vibe running through the whole film, with characters who’d probably steal your wallet but charm you into letting them. Fahel doesn’t shy away from chaos or darker moments—she almost seems to thrive on them. Then there’s Monomania (2017), which flips the script completely. You go from the loudness of Bang! Bang! to this tense, psychological labyrinth. Monomania is more about obsession, the kind that eats at you, makes you question your own sanity, and everyone else's too. It’s not comfortable, not meant to make you feel safe. The way she unpacks mental struggles—honestly, it’s a little unsettling in the best way. The shots linger just a bit too long, the silences drag out, and you start to feel that itch under your skin. And don’t even get me started on Immigrant Brothers (2017). That one’s got heart. It dives into the immigrant experience, but it’s not just some sob story—it’s messy, complicated, and full of moments that’ll make you laugh out loud before you even realize you’re tearing up. Fahel’s got a knack for capturing those little human details that most people miss, the stuff that makes characters feel less like actors and more like people you might bump into on the street. Definitely not your standard Hollywood gloss—there’s something real going on here.