There's something intimidating about meeting a director -- your line of work changes inexplicably; no longer do you exist in an objective sphere, you're face to face with the creators of these pieces and you're given the opportunity to discuss with them on a personal and artistic level the interiors and exteriors of their work.

First up was Sydney Freeland, director of the coming of age Native American drama Drunktown's Finest. There was no room for error in Freeland's mission statement, Freeland came to Sundance to represent her people: "I remember watching films, and, I didn't see the people or places I knew growing up" Freeland recalled as we discussed the film's impetuous. It's important to note that Drunktown's Finest wasn't a hasty piece of work, Freeland wanted to craft an authentic voice for Native Americans, taking 7 years from initial inception to conclusion. Nonetheless, Freeland still felt a burden of representation, remaining cautious to ensure the pressure didn't sabotage the film: 'All I can do is tell the best story I can, and hopefully the issues of representation will take care of themselves...the story is more universal". Without a shadow of a doubt, Drunktown's Finest was made for a Native American audience and after being reassured by the positive reaction from the Native American community during the film's Salt Lake City premiere, Freeland spoke optimistically about having Drunktown's Finest shown on the reservations in the future.

Freeland is no novice behind the lens, working on a miraculous amount of shorts before she can began work on her feature length debut, stating that the involvement of the Sundance Labs meant the process of filming was "a pure artistic experience" . There was a bittersweet moment when Freeland reminisced upon the editing process, as she described 'killing her darlings': "unless it drove the overall narrative forward, there was no question about it, we had to let it go," praising her editor, Harry Yoon, for assisting her with her approach, eventually cutting three quarters of an hour of footage from the final product. Besides working on her new time travel, science fiction movie Freeland's working on a documentary about the production of the debut album of singer songwriter John Spicer.

The Bay area was what broke the ice between us and Fruitvale Station director Ryan Coogler, and us, striking up conversation about our relationship and perceptions of the Bay Area. However, what really instigated a discussion was the topic of the media -- Coogler was initially speechless that we had little or no prior knowledge about the events that occurred in the early hours of 1/1/2009, soon coming to a gloomy realisation that neither had most of America. So it caught us off guard when Coogler spoke of Mark Duggan and the socio-political uproar his death caused.

The thorny issue of media and representation meant there was a marked way Coogler wanted to approach his representation of Oscar Grant: "For me, it was looking at him on this day, a particularly domestic day and it would be uncharted territory to watch a 22-year-old Urban male pick up his daughter from schools, I know guys like that."

But for films in the same cinematic vein as Fruitvale Station, it's paramount to note the amount of artistic license that has been adopted by the director, a problem that Coogler acknowledged existed and was willing to talk about: "My friend worked with the law firm that represented Oscar's civil case, a lot of documentaries were available to me, video footage included. I had a glut of information, leaving little gaps for creative license." He goes onto explain the gaps filled by artistic license were done for budgetary reasons: "I didn't know that every person who has dialogue, needed paying, that night Oscar was out with more of his friends, what was 12 friends became 6." However, aside from fiscal restraints the majority of the film's stylistic choices were created to reference a neo-realistic way of filming, Coogler citing Paul Greengrass as a major inspiration to him from an artistic vantage point. We wound down with the question of how important it was to represent black domesticity on the screen: "Oscar's world isn't so different from mine... scenes like that shouldn't be revolutionary" further accentuating the importance of this film in our cinematic zeitgeist.

Marjane Satrapi's presence is rapturous: she's so full of vigour and gust, with her fashion being emblematic of that, styling an audacious gold bracket with the word 'FUCK' emblazoned on it. It didn't take long for Satrapi to reminisce about what attracted her to the 'The Voices': "I was reading the script in the middle of the night and I was like, 'Oh my God, this is so fucked up' and in the morning I was brushing my teeth in the front of the mirror and I thought, 'it's so fucked up that I have to do it!"

Based on the performance of Reynolds alone you would be forgiven to assume that the role was designed with him in specially in Satrapi's consciousness. In a peculiar turn of events, Satrapi, initially, never had Ryan Reynolds in mind. She was sceptical of him. She had yet to see Buried and her only impression of his abilities came from films like The Proposal and The Green Lantern. But that didn't stop her lauding him with praise: "He's so talented. As a director, it's very rare to be directing then become the spectator to your own film. He's a fucking Ferrari, you can just do whatever you want with him!" Satrapi equally commended Gemma Arterton, the film's main Scream Queen: "I love her! You don't often become find a friend with your actors but she actually became a close friend."

The conscious aesthetic decisions in The Voices has been topic of critical discussion since Sundance earlier this year, Satrapi felt it important to film the vast amount of the special effects as camera illusions: "I'm against green-screen: it's boring for me, it's boring for the cinematographer, and it's most boring for the actors. So I said no! You do special effects when you can't do it any other way." Even during her inaugural reading of the script, Satrapi had began playing architect to the world she wished to create for the film: "Before anything else in my life I'm a painter, and luckily myself and my set designer have identical taste," making it a collaborative and wholesome aesthetic union. So, what's on the horizon for Satrapi? She finished a film earlier this year and is the process of observing the world and its cultures for inspiration once more: "I need to walk and talk to people, read and see films to fill myself again: I've just got to have something to say."