“It’s been a huge shift to all of the sudden be public with this piece that I did, and that’s been really crazy for me,” confesses The Wolfpack director Crystal Moselle. “I feel very exposed, but it’s also a positive thing. As an artist, you create so that you can share with the world.”

Up until Moselle’s documentary debut The Wolfpack opened to rave reviews and a newfound fandom last spring, the world wasn’t able to experience the true wonder of New York City’s Angulo brothers. Overruled by their overprotective and paranoid father, the six brothers were confined to the tiny dwellings of their family’s Lower East Side public housing apartment for the better half of their young lives (they now range in age from 16 to 23). Unable to leave their home, the boys found solace in the film world, constantly consuming the work of iconic directors or straight-to-VHS cult films. The brothers’ nights were spent re-enacting iconic scenes from Reservoir Dogs or getting thrifty while recreating Batman costumes out of yoga mats, cereal boxes, and duct tape. The boys’ stories and newly-exposed creativity may never have been introduced to the world if a curious Moselle hadn’t encountered the boys in the Lower East Side on during one of their rare outings over five years ago. This chance meeting prompted Moselle to create one of the most captivating stories of 2015. “I think that these kids are very special and they reach far,” Moselle states matter-of-factly, when discussing her film’s stars. “Whatever it is that really drew me [to them] when we first met is translating into the world, and that’s very special.”

The Wolfpack not only examines the brothers’ transformation as they venture out into the world, but also investigates cinema’s ability to inform and influence who we are as people. When we watch a young Angulo brother channel his inner-Mr. White in a Reservoir Dogs re-enactment scene, the viewer can identify with that moment and character, even if it’s not instantly obvious. Moselle exposes that not only in her celebrated film's subjects, but also in the hearts of those watching it. “At the end of the day, people still want to go sit in a theater and watch something that takes them away from reality,” she says. “I think that [feeling] will always be there, it’s just about expanding to other areas and different ways to do things. Good old theater will always be there.”

But it’s not like Moselle isn’t used to evoking these feelings and emotions with her work. She’s been honing in on this skill for years, since first discovering her knack for getting into the hearts and minds of subjects and viewers alike while taking a film class at Otis College at the influential age of 16. “I think that was when I started to understand my voice and how I was going to tell things,” says Moselle. “I realized that I was good at capturing things spontaneously by going with my gut and intuition.” That first gut intuition involved following around a group of raver kids the she found in a random hotel lobby and documenting it all on her camera for her first project. “It ended up being really good and everyone loved it and that was the first moment I started to find my own voice and I realized that it was from capturing real people in real situations. To me, it was like ‘Oh this is working. This is translating to other people other than myself.’”

Documenting real people in real situations is obviously Moselle’s subtle talent. From her focus on 14-year-old ballerinas in her Shapeshifting video for Nowness to her editorial Meet the Baes video with Pharrell, Moselle has always had a skill for humanizing and identifying with her subjects, while presenting them in a completely relatable way for audiences. But one other sentiment that is also present in her work is an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. “When you see beauty happen (whether it’s scripted or real life) and you capture it, it’s such a fulfilling feeling,” says Moselle. “I’m very sentimental. I like to keep moments and I think nostalgia is a big part of my work. I like when you can relate to what you’re watching. That’s how something is emotional, because it makes you feel something, and that’s amazing.”

Since its release, The Wolfpack has garnered a barrage of rave reviews from top critics as well as support from Moselle’s peers and idols alike. Winning the U.S. Documentary Grand Jury Prize at Sundance, the film has brought its director and subjects to Hollywood’s forefront. From Quentin Tarantino praising the film’s stars’ imagination and skills when re- enacting his movies, to Spike Jonze presenting the film’s New York City opening (“He’s a supporter of the arts and people coming up,” says Moselle. “I feel very honored that [Spike] wanted to be a part of it.”), real recognizes real when it comes to the director’s debut.

But with all of this praise, comes a newfound sense of responsibility to the public. The Wolfpack’s onscreen subjects aren’t the only ones who have had to make life changes to adjust to a newfound life in the public eye due to the documentary’s overwhelming success. The relatively quiet Moselle has also had to adapt to being in front of the lens, not just behind it. “I’ve been working on this project for so long and it’s been such an intimate thing,” says Crystal. “It’s been really a huge shift to all of the sudden be public with this piece that I did and that’s been really crazy for me.”

While the director might let on about how crazy the new media attention has been for her, she can’t deny that it’s been, for the most part, positive. “I feel this new confidence that I can create more,” she says. And that’s good news, as the conversation in Hollywood is finally shifting towards a focus on female directors and creatives putting in work behind the lens. “This is my time now, coming into the film world. I think the biggest thing is that there are a lot of open arms for women right now.”

With the film world slowly shifting towards the female side of things (repeat: slowly), does that mean Moselle’s focus will shift? “I don’t feel pressure, I’m just not like that; I just always do things my way,” she says. “I just hope that things change and I think they are. Actually, I don’t hope... I know they are. This is how the world works.”