When cult filmmaker Kira Muratova told a young Isa Willinger, “The truth is, women make the harsher films,” the statement lodged itself in Willinger’s mind like a riddle. Could this really be true? So often, women and non-binary filmmakers are framed through the language of empathy, intuition, or sensitivity — rarely through force, severity, or rage. With “No Mercy,” premiering at DOC NYC, Willinger sets out to investigate Muratova’s provocation by seeking out the women and non-binary directors who have confronted violence, trauma, sexuality, and power on their own terms.
The film becomes both a cinematic journey and an intellectual excavation, drawing on voices from different generations and cultural contexts to ask what, exactly, defines a “female gaze” — and whether that gaze contains something far more radical than the industry has historically acknowledged. As Willinger revisits films that have often been sidelined, censored, or forgotten, “No Mercy” also becomes a mirror for the ongoing conversations around gender, authorship, and autonomy unfolding across the world today.
An award-winning documentarian whose work includes “Hi, AI” and “Plastic Fantastic,” Willinger brings both scholarly insight and personal vulnerability to this project. What begins as an investigation into Muratova’s enigmatic remark expands into a study of cinematic rebellion itself — how women and non-binary artists have long broken silence, challenged patriarchal storytelling, and insisted on telling stories that refuse to look away.
Fresh off its DOC NYC screenings and available online through November 30, “No Mercy” offers an urgent, invigorating look at filmmakers who wield the camera as both mirror and weapon. I sat down with director Isa Willinger to talk about Muratova, reclaiming feminist film histories, the current landscape for women and non-binary creators, and what she hopes viewers carry with them long after the credits roll.
Congratulations on this film. It spoke to me deeply. Thank you for making it, especially for female and non-binary directors. I thought we could start with what sparked the idea for the film.
Thank you for your kind words. I’m so happy to hear it resonated.
I knew I wanted to make a film about women and non-binary directors, but I was still looking for the right angle. I spoke with a commissioning editor who was supportive, but none of my initial ideas really landed. I thought about exploring the female gaze, but that felt a bit too obvious.
Then I remembered an interview I had done with Kira Muratova a few years earlier. She had said something striking — strange, even — about women’s filmmaking. I couldn’t remember the exact wording, so I went back and reread it, and it hit me: that was the angle.
I assumed the commissioning editor would find it too far-fetched, but she loved it. So I started watching hundreds of films and digging into the history of women’s filmmaking. It felt like a second film school — discovering work and perspectives I’d never encountered before.
I’d love to talk about Kira Muratova. She’s such an amazing filmmaker. I’m thrilled the Criterion Channel has her films now. What first drew you to her?
I actually discovered her work in New York City while I was there on a Fulbright. I majored in Slavic studies in Germany, so I liked keeping up with Eastern European cinema events. Lincoln Center was doing a retrospective of her work. I’d never heard of her, but I went — and I immediately fell in love. Her films were expressive, courageous, utterly unique.
There was something inherently feminist in that forcefulness and originality. I decided to write my master’s thesis on her, which later became a book. Eventually, I went to interview her — that was the beginning of my personal connection with her work.
You feature such an incredible group of filmmakers. You mentioned watching hundreds of films. How did you decide who to reach out to, and what was the process like?
I began with a long list — much longer than what ended up in the film. I chose filmmakers whose work genuinely spoke to me and inspired me. I also wanted voices from different cultural backgrounds — not just a European lens — because the experience of being a woman or non-binary filmmaker differs dramatically across cultures.
We contacted each director individually. It was difficult — directors don’t usually love being in front of the camera, and they’re very aware of what it means to relinquish control. Some declined, some were too busy. But the ones who joined form such a strong group. And unusually, we used all the interviews we shot — none were cut.
What I appreciate is the full spectrum: some filmmakers embrace womanhood as central to their artistic identity, while others resist labels like “female filmmaker.” Through all those varied perspectives, was there something collective you learned?
So much. Everything in the film is something I personally learned — I tend to include ideas that feel new to me.
For example, Catherine Breillat’s thoughts on shame, or Céline Sciamma’s views on violence and narrative conflict as patriarchal storytelling forms — I may not agree with all of it, but it opens up fascinating ways of thinking about cinema.
Then there’s Virginie Despentes, who’s now better known as an author. Her description of writing a male protagonist — how readers immediately sympathized with him, and how it felt like “comfortable shoes” — was such a vivid illustration of moving through the world as a man versus as a woman.
What was the editing process like, shaping all these different threads together?
Intense. We had two editors, and it took seven months. We didn’t want the typical documentary cut where each person says one sentence and then you jump to the next. That can feel superficial. We wanted each filmmaker to speak in longer stretches, especially in the first half, so the audience could get a real sense of them as people and thinkers.
The bigger challenge was including myself more than I originally planned. I thought I’d only appear in the beginning to explain my connection to Muratova. But through editing, we realized I needed to explain my own motivations and my own path into filmmaking. It added a layer of depth that felt right.
I run a women and non-binary film festival myself, so I loved Jackie Buet’s presence in your film. Can you talk about her and what she brought?
Of course. Muratova had mentioned gaining her insight after attending a women’s film festival in France in the ’80s. By researching, I narrowed it down to the 1988 Créteil Women’s Film Festival. I wanted to know which films she might have seen, and through some digging, I connected with Jackie. She sent me everything she had — full scans, archives, materials. She was so enthusiastic.
I didn’t want traditional “experts” in the film, since it’s about filmmakers, not historians. But Jackie lives this world — and she knew Muratova personally. She was the one expert whose presence felt essential.
The ’80s and early ’90s were such a pivotal time for feminist cinema. During the pandemic I discovered Lizzie Borden and Cheryl Dunye — filmmakers whose work had disappeared for too long. Now there’s a revival, largely thanks to platforms like Criterion. I’m grateful your film adds to that rediscovery.
Yes, exactly — so many incredible films from that era vanished for a time. Seeing them return is wonderful.
The industry is strange right now — theatrical releases feel lackluster, but independent filmmakers seem to be taking more control. What are your thoughts on the current landscape for women and non-binary filmmakers?
It’s complicated. Opportunities and support have improved — more women are getting funding and entering major competitions. And yet the recognition is still not equal.
Film schools have been graduating roughly 50% women for years, but major festivals still hover around 70% men, 30% women. Progress is slow.
And globally, we’re seeing a backlash. With wars and major crises dominating attention, women’s rights and non-binary rights often fall to the background — sometimes even regress. Violence against women has risen in places like Germany. And of course, in the U.S., you know the situation well.
What do you hope people take from this film?
I hope they see it as a celebration of women’s cinema — and maybe even feel part of that celebration. So many people have already asked for a list of all the films featured, which tells me it’s sparking curiosity and inspiration. That’s the best outcome I could hope for.
