By Brittney Wright

 

I’ve always loved words. Reading and writing were never just hobbies for me — they were places I felt understood. Stories gave me perspective before I had language for my own experiences, and writing became the way I made sense of the world around me. That love is what led me to major in communications and pursue journalism. I didn’t just want to consume stories — I wanted to tell them, shape them, and give space to voices that felt real.

 

Alongside writing, film has always held a special place in my heart. I love cinema as an art form, but I’m especially drawn to independent films. There’s something about indie projects that feels fearless — they’re edgier, rawer, and more personal. They don’t always follow formulas, and that’s what makes them exciting. While big-budget films can be visually stunning, many of them feel polished to the point of predictability. Indie films, on the other hand, aren’t afraid of rough edges — and sometimes those edges are where the truth lives.

 

That’s why The Ace of Fadez stood out to me.

 

The flow of the film immediately caught my attention. It carries a strong ’90s aesthetic that you don’t see much in modern cinema — that gritty, grounded feel that lets moments breathe and then the flow to the next spectacle. There’s a rawness to it, but also an intentional edge — moments that feel bold, slightly over the top, and unapologetically themselves. It felt cohesive in a way that matched my personal taste: imperfect, expressive, and honest.

 

Watching it made me curious — not just about the story on screen, but about the mindset behind it. I wanted to understand the intention, the process, the choices. That curiosity is what pushed me to reach out to the director, J. Mitchell, and ask if I could interview him about the film. I didn’t come to the conversation as someone chasing headlines — I came as someone genuinely passionate about the art.

 

I think he sensed that.

What started as an interview turned into an opportunity to contribute as a blog writer for Mitchell’s Merch — a space where storytelling, creativity, and culture intersect. It felt natural. When you love what you’re writing about, the work doesn’t feel forced — it feels aligned.

 

At the end of the day, I’m inspired by stories that take risks — whether they’re written on a page or captured on film. I’m drawn to creators who value authenticity over perfection and meaning over mass appeal. That’s the kind of work I want to support, write about, and eventually create myself — including the book I hope to write one day.

 

Because the stories that stay with us aren’t always the cleanest ones — they’re the ones that comes from an authentic place.