On September 4th, 5th, and 6th, the ONA Film Festival returns to fuse outdoor and sports culture with the seventh art, enriching the already stunning San Servolo Island in Venice with a one-of-a-kind event. As per tradition, Athleta Magazine joins ONA as a media partner, shining its editorial spotlight on some of the Festival’s key voices.

We continue this editorial series with Dutch director Marc Ressang, who will present the short films ‘The Flood’ and ‘Rebel Riders’ in the Venetian lagoon: the first one is a portrait of an issue that resonates with Venice, rising sea levels, while the second one is a close investigation of a fascinating Asian subculture.

How did photography and cinematography enter your life?

Marc Ressang: “I’m originally from the Netherlands, but I grew up between there and Belgium: very traditional places, not exactly the most creative environments. After high school, I had no idea what I wanted to do, so I took the most convenient route and enrolled in a nearby university to study international business. It wasn’t something I felt passionate about; honestly, it was just a way to travel.

What really stayed with me from that time, though, were the National Geographic magazines we always had at home. They gave me this escape, a way to imagine far-off places. Eventually, I realized photography could be my excuse or reason to actually go and explore them.

It started small, and each step took me further. After graduating, I knew I had to take a leap or risk falling into a life I didn’t want. So I booked a one-way ticket to Shanghai. That was 2011. I had a pretty meaningless internship lined up, but it gave me a reason to be there: and from there, things started to unfold.”

What was that first cultural shock like?

Marc Ressang: “It’s easier to embrace that shock when you’re in your 20s, without many responsibilities. You can survive on instant noodles and just enough money for drinks from a corner shop. That freedom makes the adjustment easier.

When I arrived, China was just coming out of the 2008 financial crisis, and it was booming. Tech was starting to catch up: smartphones were still new, the internet was limited, but the energy was there. It wasn’t always easy to get around or figure things out, but there was a resilience you needed to adapt. Now it’s different: you can land anywhere and use Google Translate. Back then, you had to learn fast or get left behind.”

So China was where you truly developed your voice as a visual storyteller?

Marc Ressang: “Definitely. Even in college, I’d worked as a nightlife photographer: it was a fun way to meet people, get into clubs for free, and develop my skills. That was really my only marketable skill when I landed in China, so I leaned into it. I met people, took jobs, and slowly photography turned into filmmaking.”

You describe your work as reflecting the historical and cultural impact of places on people. Can you expand on that for someone who might be discovering your work for the first time?

Marc Ressang: “Sure. I think my creative identity is deeply tied to how I’ve lived. I don’t strongly identify as Dutch anymore. I’m not quite a “global citizen,” either, but I’ve lived abroad for most of my adult life, and that changes how you see things.

When I return home, I notice how people tend to hold onto preconceived ideas about places they’ve never visited. And in documentary work, that becomes a trap: you end up explaining places in a way that’s digestible or expected, instead of portraying what you actually see.

That’s something I’ve worked through a lot over the past decade. Depending on the audience, whether it’s China or the West, you have to think about what will resonate. China, for instance, might expect a totally different visual or narrative approach. What’s obvious in the West might not be in the East, and vice versa.”

It sounds like the heart of it all is cultural curiosity. But what made you want to share those perceptions? Why become a storyteller?

Marc Ressang: “Honestly, it all starts from a personal desire to understand. I’m driven by my own curiosity: cultural practices, rituals, the “why” behind the way people live. And if something has already been thoroughly documented or analyzed, I tend to lose interest. I want to experience things directly, without the filter of someone else’s narrative.”

Let’s talk about sport: both as performance and as ritual. Your work often features different games and physical practices. How do you see sport as part of a culture’s identity?

Marc Ressang: “Sport is one of the most universal human expressions, and every culture puts its own stamp on it. Take football, for example. It’s played everywhere, but each country makes it their own. Then you have hyper-local sports: games that can only exist in a certain place, because of the climate or geography, or because they’re rooted in ritual.

Some sports only appear during specific ceremonies or festivals, and that’s fascinating to me: how people invent physical forms of expression tied to their environment. Whether it’s competitive, performative, or ceremonial, sport fulfills basic human needs in incredibly diverse ways.”

And what about your own relationship with sport? 

Marc Ressang: “I’ve played plenty of sports over the years, but I’ve never been the best at them. I wasn’t going to make a career out of competing. But that’s why documenting others became so fulfilling: I could still be around elite athletes or deeply passionate communities, just on the other side of the lens.”

Is there one moment—or one sport—you’ve documented that stands out to you in particular?

Marc Ressang: “There are a few. I’m always drawn to sports that appear violent or chaotic to outsiders, but are deeply symbolic within their communities. Buzkashi, for example, is visually spectacular and rich with meaning. But I’ve also found beauty in smaller, unexpected places: like in Northeast India, where once a year there’s a festival where people play football barefoot in the street with a hard wooden ball. You don’t find that in any guidebook. Someone just shows up with a ball and suddenly you’re part of something entirely unique.”

You’ll be screening two films at the ONA Film Festival. Can you tell the viewers what they can expect?

Marc Ressang: “The first is called ‘The Flood.’ It’s a climate-focused documentary about a region in coastal Indonesia that’s slowly sinking. Every time the tide rises, the village is flooded: entire homes, streets, the surrounding land. It’s devastating, and what makes it more tragic is that they lack the resources to fight back, unlike a city like Venice, for example. It’s a story about resilience and abandonment in the face of nature.

The second one is called Rebel Riders. Also shot in Indonesia, and it dives into the incredibly vibrant DIY Vespa culture there. It’s wild: young people take these old, broken-down Vespas and transform them into totally new machines. Some of the builds are truly beyond imagination: part sculpture, part motorcycle, part Mad Max.

Indonesia has a deep and expressive subcultural world. People go all in: they don’t just adopt a look, they inhabit a lifestyle. Even if the origin is elsewhere, they reinterpret it with their own aesthetic, values, and context. It’s fascinating to witness.”

Got it. You’ve clearly traveled extensively: China, Indonesia, India, Japan. How has this nomadic life shaped you: not just as a filmmaker, but as a person?

Marc Ressang: “It’s definitely had a profound impact. But I’d say it’s a double-edged sword. Living abroad for so long changes your internal compass. You start to realize you may never fully “return” to where you came from. You’ve seen too much, experienced too many other ways of life. In a way, ignorance really is bliss: because once you know what’s out there, you constantly compare everything to everything else.”

Given everything happening in the world today, do you see your work as carrying a political or ideological charge? Or is it more about documenting culture for its own sake?

Marc Ressang: “For me, it’s not really about ideology. I’m more interested in finding and refining my own creative voice. I’m not trying to fulfill a journalistic code of ‘objective truth.’ In today’s post-truth era, I actually think traditional documentary can sometimes struggle to justify its existence. People don’t always want facts: they want perspective. That’s what I try to offer: my own way of seeing things.”

When exactly did the transition from photography into filmmaking happen?

Marc Ressang: “That shift started about ten years ago: maybe four years into living in Shanghai. Photography had always been a solitary practice for me, and I began to crave the collaboration that comes with film. Working in a team, building out productions, and growing ideas beyond what I could do on my own. Even now, I still work solo at times, especially when I shoot both photo and video. But when the scope grows, it just makes more sense to specialize: focus on either directing or cinematography and let a project take on a life of its own.”

And speaking of Shanghai and Tokyo, the places in which you’re mostly based… These cities represent a fascinating mix: tradition and avant-garde, past and future coexisting in a constant state of flux. How do you approach that blend artistically?

Marc Ressang: “Honestly, I have mixed feelings about it. In places like Shanghai, nostalgia and tradition are often commodified: almost turned into performance. It’s not quite propaganda, but it certainly projects a version of reality that doesn’t fully exist anymore. As an outsider, it becomes complicated: you’re interpreting a culture, but also contributing to how it’s perceived globally. I’ve explored these themes in the past, but I’ve also come to realize how easy it is to fall into clichés, romanticized imagery that doesn’t challenge expectations. Now, I’m more interested in capturing what people don’t expect to see from a place.”

When you visit new places—remote villages in India, for instance—do you approach them as a student first? Do you research a lot ahead of time, or do you just arrive and explore?

Marc Ressang: “It depends on the country. In places like China or Indonesia, where things are relatively safe and accessible, I tend to just go. I’ll loosely plan around a specific event, maybe a festival or local tradition, but leave most of it open. That way, I can be fully present and discover things in real time. It’s about setting some boundaries, but not over-planning. The best stories often come from the unexpected.”

You’ll be part of the ONA Film Festival, an event that brings together stories of sports, culture, climate, and identity. And they’re told from a wide range of perspectives. How important is it, in your view, a platform like this one? 

Marc Ressang: “I think festivals like this are essential: not just for showcasing work, but for creating conversations. It’s not about echoing back what audiences already know or expect. It’s about expanding those expectations. Showing places and people that may not get mainstream attention. And also bridging different worlds: bringing together filmmakers with massive brand campaigns and those who shoot on iPhones. That spectrum, that democratic space, is where the most interesting exchanges happen. Everyone has something to offer. Everyone learns something.”

Join the ONA Film Festival, visit the website https://onafilmfestival.com/