Benjamin Nicolas is an actor's director who crafts beautiful, emotional work with palpable performances.
Parisian born and Montreal based, Benjamin originally trained as an actor before stepping behind the camera and using his skills to bring the best out of his casts. He creates films that are simultaneously vibrant, rambunctious, heart-wrenching, and uplifting, and has collaborated with global organisations and cultural figures including Montreal Children’s Hospital, The Ebinum Brothers, and Opera de Paris.
His short films ‘Wanda’, ‘Beast’, and the most recent ‘A Quiet Storm’, have received widespread acclaim, run at major international festivals, won several awards, and are featured on Vimeo Staff Pick, Short of the Week, Director’s Library, and 1.4.
His work is accessible yet artful, designed yet authentic, and delivers your daily dose of feelings every time.
Name: Benjamin Nicolas
Location: Montreal, Canada
Repped by/in: Sibling Rivalry (US)
Awards: Industry Choice Award DWF for ‘Wanda’, shots Bronze Director of the Year, multiple CLIOs, Cannes Lions Charity, The One Show
Benjamin> Over the past two years, I’ve been profoundly affected by the situation in Ukraine and Gaza, especially by the images of children, helpless in the streets.
As a filmmaker, I couldn’t just stand by. I wanted to take action, to create something that would resonate beyond words, which led me to make ‘Broken Dreams’. This project became more than a film; it turned into a voice for children in conflict zones everywhere – not just Ukraine and Gaza, but Syria, Yemen, South Sudan, wherever kids are suffering due to the folly of grown-ups.
I wanted to create something visceral that forces people to confront the human cost of these distant headlines.
Benjamin> I’ll admit, it’s a bit of a gear shift to go from talking about war-torn streets to talking about the advertising industry – the contrast isn’t lost on me. But as a director who straddles both worlds, I’ve come to see advertising as another vessel for meaningful storytelling.
What excites me right now is that the industry seems more open to authenticity and emotion than ever. There’s a growing trend of brands wanting to tell real, human stories, instead of just hard-selling a product. In a weird way, authenticity has become a trend, and that’s something I can get behind.
For example, I see commercials now that address mental health, diversity, social causes, or that make you cry and remember the brand. That mix of purpose and commerce, as tricky as it is, gets my blood pumping.
I’m not one to chase every new gimmick on social media or the latest flashy editing trick just because it’s ‘hot’. What drives me is the chance to make people feel something. If a 30-second ad can make someone laugh out loud, tear up, or pause to reflect on their own life, then I feel we’ve done something useful, not just sold a widget.
The exciting change is that many clients and agencies also recognise this now. They’re taking more creative risks, and giving directors like me space to craft mini films rather than formulaic ads. So, while I might not rattle off the top 10 TikTok trends, I’m definitely feeling a momentum in advertising toward more cinematic, heartfelt content. The opportunity here is to use the ad world’s resources and reach to tell stories that matter, even as we fulfil a commercial brief.
That tension between artistic responsibility and selling a product will always be there, but I’m thriving on it.
Benjamin> I’ve dabbled in a lot of genres in my career – one month I’m shooting a high-fashion piece, the next I’m filming a soccer player, then I’m experimenting with some trippy visual art film.
I love that variety, but the scripts that truly get me excited are the ones with a strong narrative and a human heartbeat. I’m a sucker for a story that has genuine human connections at its core. It could be a family drama, a quiet character study, or a clever narrative in a 60-second commercial. What sets a script apart for me is when I read it and feel something – if the concept or story makes me react viscerally, I’m immediately hooked.
I also look for scripts that have an unexpected angle or a bold voice. Maybe it’s a familiar story told from an unheard perspective, or a wild concept grounded in real emotion. I’m not into doing the ‘same old’ projects – I’d say I’m scared of stagnation. So, if a script feels too familiar, I’ll challenge myself to find a new lens on it, or I might pass.
On the flip side, when a script comes along that combines heart with a chance to flex some creative muscle (e.g. a cool visual approach, a unique structure, etc.), I’m all in. As I said before, my reel admittedly has huge diversity genre-wise, and I love that. The common thread is that each piece has people at its centre and some emotional truth driving it.
So yeah, give me a script that’s brimming with humanity – whether it’s wrapped in a comedy, a thriller, or a poetic PSA – and I’ll be itching to shoot it, pouring all my past genre-bending experience into making it something special.
Benjamin> When I start a treatment for a spot, the first step is pretty unglamorous, but effective: I let the idea wash over me and scribble like a madman. I’ll read the brief or script and then just free-write or sketch whatever pops into my head – images, feelings, snippets of voice-over, even random words. At this stage, nothing is too crazy. It’s me daydreaming on paper (or usually, on my tablet). I find that my best ideas often hide in those initial chaotic jottings.
Then comes the shaping part. I’ll sift through that brainstorm and start picking out the gems that really resonate with the core idea.
From there, I build a narrative flow or a visual arc, asking myself ‘how do we start?’, ‘what journey do we want to take the viewer on?’, and ‘how do we end so it lands with impact?’. I’m very visual, so I’ll pull references to communicate the vibe in my head. This could be anything, from photography to movie stills or a colour palette that fits the mood.
Collaboration starts early in my treatment process too. I love bouncing ideas off my creative team as I’m formulating the approach. That openness can spark new thoughts or clarify ideas.
Once I have a solid direction, I’ll refine the treatment document so it reads like a narrative story on its own – clear enough that anyone (even someone not involved in the project) would get excited reading it. I make sure to address the practical side as well, like how we plan to execute the project, anticipate any challenges and solutions, etc., because a treatment must inspire confidence, not just imagination.
In the end, the goal is to create a treatment that feels like the blueprint of a film I’m already starting to see in my mind’s eye – something the agency and client can read and practically watch the spot unfold frame by frame, sharing in my excitement for it.
Benjamin> Filmmaking is teamwork, no doubt, but if I had to single out the most important working relationship for a director in advertising, I’d say it’s the one with the ad agency creative team – especially the creative director or writer who originated the concept.
In the ad world, they’re the guardians of the idea, and I’m the one bringing it to life, so we absolutely need to trust each other. It’s a relationship of constant dialogue and mutual respect. I love when there’s a bit of a push-and-pull – they challenge me with the intent of protecting the idea’s core, and I challenge them by exploring bold ways to execute that idea.
When we click, it’s magic – we’re finishing each other’s sentences, so to speak – and the whole crew can feel that unity.
If the director and the agency creatives are in sync, we’re automatically in a stronger position to carry out the project (and the client usually feels that confidence).
On set, I rely on that creative partner to give input if something’s not quite hitting the mark, and inversely, they trust me when I say, “let’s try this instead.” Trust is huge – trust that we each have the project’s best interest at heart, and trust that we can speak freely. So, I nurture that partnership actively. I make sure to involve them, to listen, and to also be clear in my vision.
In my experience, when the director and the agency creative are aligned and honest with each other, the project sails a lot smoother, and the final piece benefits immensely from that unity of vision.
Benjamin> Work that makes me feel alive when I’m creating it, and that usually means it has a strong human element. It’s less about a specific genre or style for me, and more about the substance.
I’m drawn to stories that reflect real life in some way, whether that’s a narrative about a family dealing with loss, a documentary-style piece about people overcoming hardship, or a quirky comedy that has an undercurrent of truth.
If I had to pick a common thread, I’d say I love shining a light on untold stories or overlooked perspectives. That’s why projects like ‘Broken Dreams’ mean so much to me – they’re rooted in real-world issues and human resilience.
But, I’m also the guy who gets excited doing a heartfelt father-daughter story in a sports commercial, or a poetic visual piece about identity for a fashion brand. In each case, it’s the human connection and emotional honesty that draw me in.
Stylistically, I’m very open. I can get jazzed about doing something in a raw, cinéma vérité style or, on the next project, switch gears and craft a lush, cinematic look with sweeping camera moves. The style follows the story for me.
What I am consistently drawn to is a certain tone – I like work that feels a bit raw, and unapologetically emotional (even if that emotion is wrapped in humour or action). I guess you could say I’m passionate about anything that lets me explore the human condition. Whether it’s a short film, a commercial, or a music video, if the concept has heart and some truth to it, I’m all in.
At the end of the day, I’m chasing that feeling of connection – the sense that through this project, someone out there will feel understood, moved, or inspired to see the world a little differently.
Benjamin> Because my reel is so diverse, it could seem like I don’t have a ‘signature’ style or a focus – that I’m a jack-of-all-trades.
It’s true that my portfolio ranges from experimental art films to docu-style narratives and glossy commercials, but this doesn’t mean that my voice isn’t clear. In fact, I see it the opposite way: I have a very clear voice, which I choose to express across different genres. The common thread through all my work is a focus on human stories and emotional impact. Whether I’m shooting a fashion piece or a war documentary, I’m always looking for that humanity. I’m deliberately exploring different mediums to sharpen my storytelling and challenge myself. I hate the idea of stagnation or getting pigeonholed. My style isn’t about a particular genre or visual trope, it’s about an emotional truth that I try to bring to everything I do.
Another misconception (especially when people see projects like ‘Broken Dreams’) is that I’m a super serious, brooding artist who only deals in heavy topics. Yes, I go to some intense places in my work, but that’s because those stories matter to me, not because I enjoy wallowing in darkness. People are sometimes surprised when they meet me and realise I crack jokes and don’t take myself too seriously.
The heavy themes in my films come with a purpose: usually to find a glimmer of hope or at least provoke some empathy. So, if someone assumes that I’m only interested in telling one type of story, they’re missing the bigger picture.
I’m into real stuff – sometimes that’s painful, but sometimes it’s uplifting, absurd, or quietly beautiful. The misconception is thinking my work is one-note when I embrace complexity and contrast. I’d say, look a little closer and you’ll see the intention behind each project. I’m not randomly hopping around topics; I’m digging into different facets of what it means to be human.
Benjamin> This is something I navigate on every project. In practice, it’s a bit of a dance.
On the one hand, I go into each collaboration with open ears and an open mind. Whether it’s the agency creative team or the brand client, I truly listen to their input. They might see things about their product or audience that I don’t, and they often bring up good points or ideas I hadn’t considered.
I’ve also learned that great ideas can come from anywhere, so my first instinct is to say “yes, and…” – to build on suggestions rather than shut them down. This openness creates an atmosphere of trust. The agency and client feel heard and respected, which is super important because we’re all in this together trying to make the best piece possible.
On the other hand, I’m hired as a director to have a strong point of view – to be the steward of the story or concept – so I’m very mindful of protecting the core idea that made me fall in love with the project in the first place. If feedback or new ideas come in that enhance that core, fantastic – let’s integrate them. But if there’s a suggestion that would water down the message or veer the piece off-course, that’s where I gently draw the line. I’ll speak up and explain why a certain element needs to stay true to the original vision. I try to do this without ego – it’s not about ‘my way or the highway’, it’s about serving the film or the ad.
For example, if one person suddenly wants to add a happy ending that undercuts the honesty of a story, I’ll advocate strongly for an alternative that keeps the authenticity while addressing their concern. It’s definitely a balancing act.
I’ve found that if you’ve built that trust and shown you’re reasonable and collaborative, then when you do put your foot down on something that really matters, people respect it. In the end, it’s about communication and trust.
Be collaborative in finding solutions, but also be a passionate guardian for the things that truly make the idea special.
Benjamin> I’d call my relationship with new technology cautiously enthusiastic. I’m definitely a curious person – I’ll geek out over a new camera rig or spend an afternoon experimenting with an AR filter just to see what it can do.
I’ve started incorporating some future-facing tech in small ways. For instance, I’ve played with virtual production stages (or LED volumes) to see how I can create flexible environments, and I’ve used drones and tiny action cams to grab angles that would’ve been impossible before. I’ve also toyed around with AI tools for brainstorming visuals, like using an AI to generate concept art based on my ideas, which can be a cool starting point. These technologies open up new possibilities for storytelling, and that’s exciting.
If a story calls for something innovative – like an interactive choose-your-own-adventure style narrative, or a data-driven visual that changes with the viewer – I’m game to explore it.
That said, I’m very aware of the tech-for-tech’s-sake trap. I’ve seen directors (and I’ve been tempted myself) get caught up in the novelty of a gadget and lose sight of the story. So, I have a personal rule: the story and emotional experience come first, the technology comes second.
I’ll happily shoot with a handheld 16mm film camera and natural light if that serves the project better than a fancy virtual production setup. For me, new tech is like a shiny new set of paints – it expands the palette, but you still have to actually paint something meaningful with it.
I try to stay up to date on emerging tech (I read about AI and interactive storytelling developments regularly), but I also approach it with a bit of scepticism. I ask, ‘how does this elevate the idea? Does it make the audience feel something more profound, or understand the story more clearly?’. If yes, awesome – let’s dive in. If not, I’m fine sticking to tried-and-tested methods.
In short, I embrace technology as a tool, not as a gimmick. The future is exciting, but I’m going to use those future tools in service of good storytelling, otherwise what’s the point?
Benjamin> ‘Long Live Little Brats’ - Montreal Children's Hospital (DC)
The first ad I felt proud of. We helped raise more than three million dollars for the Children’s Hospital foundation, and shot with a real family (who then became friends). This one is special.
‘A Quiet Storm’ - This is the trailer of my latest short documentary shot in Japan last year. The film is an intimate portrait of a special Japanese family, following Maito, a young Krump dancer who is full of dreams.
‘A Better World’ - Ebinum Brothers - My most recent music video, released last year for the Ebinum Brothers – two incredible talents from Nigeria. This one integrates narrative and dance. I loved the process with a small crew.