Verena Vogl

Verena Vogl’s filmography is a wild little ride, honestly. She’s got her fingerprints on a handful of projects, each with its own mood. Take “Exterritorial” (2025), for starters. The title alone sounds like you’re about to get sucked into a zone where the usual rules just don’t apply. Expect some offbeat drama, probably a few moments that make you stop and go, “Wait, did that really happen?” It’s the sort of movie that leaves you questioning what’s real and what’s just a fever dream. Jump back a bit to “Sonne und Beton” (2023)—that one’s gritty as hell. It’s all about growing up rough, concrete jungles, and the way sunlight barely cracks through the cracks. There’s a rawness to it, like you can feel the dust in your teeth. Characters that mess up, try again, fall apart, and keep moving, even if they’re not sure why. You get these flashes of hope, but nothing comes easy, and that’s exactly what makes it stick with you. Then you’ve got “Sonu” from 2017, which couldn’t be more different. This one’s more intimate, a little quieter, but not less intense. There’s a kind of vulnerability to the story that sneaks up on you—one moment you’re just watching, the next you’re caught up in all these tangled emotions. Vogl doesn’t really do boring, and her work always has this edge, leaving you thinking about it long after the credits roll. Just when you think you’ve figured out her style, she throws you a curveball.