Meet our Alumni: Ella Nethercott, a 21-year-old writer, director, and Psychology student at Trinity College Dublin (Class of 2019 & 2020).
Ella’s work is a profound exploration of interiority and connection, bridging the gap between clinical understanding and cinematic storytelling.
We caught up with Ella to talk about her journey from school projects to developing her first feature film. Here is her story, in her own words.
HOW ARE YOU?
My name is Ella Nethercott. I’m a writer and director, and a third-year Psychology student at Trinity College Dublin. I spent my early childhood in London and have lived in Dublin since 2012. My work aims to explore how identity and belonging are shaped within private emotional worlds, and how those worlds are altered when connection begins to form. Both psychology and filmmaking have become ways for me to explore those inner worlds, especially the moments where connection disrupts what feels contained.
In 2019, I was awarded Best School at the Fresh Film Festival for my short film Four. It was my first attempt to articulate how internal distress can coexist with outward normality.
In 2020, I was awarded Ireland’s Young Filmmaker for Learning to Dance Like a Bird. Set in the 1980s, the film explores intimacy as a process of recognition—namely being witnessed and cared for, which can be both terrifying and transformative.
Both films are available on my YouTube channel, Ella Nethercott Film.
HOW I STARTED
I first submitted to the Fresh Film Festival through the encouragement of my secondary school, Alexandra College, as part of a Transition Year module. In 2019, Four was submitted through school, but in 2020, I chose to apply again entirely of my own volition. That decision marked an important shift for me, from making films largely for myself and my friends to intentionally placing my work in dialogue with a wider audience.
I was fifteen when I made Four and sixteen when I made Learning to Dance Like a Bird. I shot Four on a Canon 80D with a kit lens, a tripod, and a single softbox. For Learning to Dance Like a Bird, I again used my Canon 80D but rented additional equipment, which at the time felt like an enormous amount of gear. I wrote, directed, produced, shot, and edited the film myself, which in retrospect feels ambitious, but I was surrounded by a group of encouraging friends who helped carry equipment and sustain the momentum of the project. We rehearsed daily for a week, then moved into the house we were shooting in and filmed over seven days.
THE FRESH FILM MOMENT
The Fresh Film Festival was one of the most pivotal experiences of my life. I carried away from it a deep sense of validation. To be awarded for a project made in your youth, and therefore necessarily imperfect, is to have something raw and unfinished taken seriously. Fresh recognizes heart, attentiveness, and an emerging understanding of people and stories rather than perfection.
Seeing a film you have made projected on a big screen to an audience of strangers collapses the distance between imagination and reality. What followed the festival proved just as formative. Being invited to join the judging panel in subsequent years gave me a level of responsibility and perspective I would never have been afforded otherwise. It taught me that filmmaking is not only about expression, but about attention, discernment, and respect for the vulnerability inherent in showing unfinished parts of yourself.
WHERE YOU ARE NOW
I am currently in my third year of a Psychology degree. I chose this because the core of what first drew me to filmmaking was always people—their inner lives, contradictions, and emotional logic. I felt that studying psychology would deepen my perspective as a writer and help me develop a grounded understanding of human behaviour.
I am still making films, though at this stage my focus has been primarily on writing. Since 2021, I have been working towards materialising a feature film. The project, a queer romance, has grown up alongside me. What began as a story set in school has gradually shifted into a college setting, focusing on the process of finding one’s own voice and capacity for connection. I have not placed pressure on myself to constantly produce work, but instead try to move through the world with the attentiveness of an artist.
FOR THE NEXT GENERATION
Even as an adult, I think it can be difficult to believe you are ever truly “ready” to tell a story. My biggest advice is to trust yourself. One of the most valuable pieces of advice I was given was to stop trying to be original. Films have been made for a long time, but you yourself are original. If you write as honestly as you can, originality will follow naturally.
Use the process of making something as an exercise in honesty. If the work feels vulnerable or exposes something you would rather keep private, that is often where its value lies. Focus on character and simplicity. Keep your story simple enough that you can finish it. When it comes to building a team, start with the people around you. Cast your friends and work to their strengths.
Showing your work early is important because it breaks the illusion that art is something you arrive at fully formed. Imperfection is not a weakness in early work; it is evidence of risk. It teaches you that filmmaking is not about waiting until you feel ready, but about committing to the act of making, finishing, and letting go.
QUICK FIRE
A creator who inspires you: Joachim Trier. His films feel like thinking aloud. His work returns to the same emotional and philosophical terrain without ever feeling repetitive, inviting the audience to sit with ambiguity.
On storytelling: A film does not need to provide answers to be meaningful. Sometimes its deepest value lies in its willingness to ask the same questions again with more patience and care.
