Cory Stillman
Mohamed El Manasterly is already one of the most accomplished editors in documentary storytelling, having previously won both an Emmy and an ACE Eddie Award for his work on Welcome to Wrexham. El Manasterly has cut three of the show’s four seasons, discovering new things about his own work as well as the collaborative process every step of the way.
“By season four, the team has evolved into something like a jazz band,” he says. “There’s a beautiful synchronicity in how we work together. Everyone knows their role, and there’s a strong rhythm to our collaboration.”
As El Manasterly sets his sights on this upcoming Emmys cycle, Welcome to Wrexham is not his only project vying for attention. The 2024 extreme sports documentary Freediver similarly demonstrates El Manasterly’s dynamic editing style, and is eligible for Outstanding Picture Editing for a Nonfiction Program this year.
“Freediving is a deeply spiritual sport—almost like meditation underwater,” says El Manasterly. “At times, it can lead to intense psychological experiences, not unlike psychedelics. Trying to bring that inner world to the screen—those subtle, emotional, and even surreal layers—was one of the most creatively exciting parts of the project.”
Translating that inner world into a visual experience for audiences proved especially easy in the case of Freediver, where director Michael John Warren worked with his composer James William Blades to develop a score that El Manasterly could use during the rough cut.
“Having that music from the beginning really helped us find the tone and emotional texture of the film,” says El Manasterly. “It added so much depth to the scenes and shaped the pacing in a very organic way.”
Check out my full conversation with film/TV editor Mohamed El Manasterly below. We dive deeper (no pun intended) into Freediver and Welcome to Wrexham, and even touch on his accomplished work on National Geographic’s The Stanford Prison Experiment: Unlocking the Truth.
You and your co-editors on Welcome to Wrexham are coming off a recent ACE Eddie win for your work on the third season, and are now back in the conversation for a potential Emmy nomination with your work on season 4. Can you speak to your collaboration with the larger team and what your working relationship looks like?
Welcome to Wrexham is one of my favorite projects I’ve ever worked on. I’ve been fortunate to cut three out of the four seasons—including season one, where we had the opportunity to help establish the tone and style of the show. That early work laid the foundation for everything that followed.
By season four, the team has evolved into something like a jazz band—there’s a beautiful synchronicity in how we work together. Everyone knows their role, and there’s a strong rhythm to our collaboration. With that experience comes trust and efficiency. We’re constantly bouncing between scenes and episodes, which allows us to bring fresh perspectives to each phase of the process. That kind of cross-pollination sharpens the storytelling.
I consider myself very lucky to be working alongside such a talented group of editors and producers. They continuously challenge me to think about all the different ways a scene can be shaped. That back-and-forth keeps us on our toes and pushes us to deliver the strongest, most emotionally honest version of each scene. It’s a deeply collaborative process, and I think that energy is part of what makes the show resonate so widely.
In addition to your work on the award-winning sports series, you also recently cut an entirely different kind of show in The Stanford Prison Experiment: Unlocking the Truth. What was it like helping recount this controversial story for a new generation of viewers?
The Stanford Prison Experiment: Unlocking the Truth was one of the most enjoyable and creatively fulfilling projects I’ve worked on. I had the privilege of collaborating with director Juliette Eisner, who brought a clear and bold vision to the project while also being incredibly open to experimentation. She was hands-on in the early stages of the edit, helping shape the core of the story, but she also gave me a lot of space to explore different paths to achieve her goals. That balance made the process really energizing.
What made this show especially unique was our approach to storytelling. We didn’t set out to impose a definitive judgment on the experiment. Instead, we explored how memory and perspective shape truth. Episode one looks at the cultural narrative—the version of the experiment people think they know. Episode two tells the story through the eyes of the prisoners. And episode three presents Dr. Zimbardo’s point of view. Each of these perspectives reveals something different and often conflicting.
We were interested in the idea that we all experience—and remember—events through the lens of our own backgrounds, agendas, and personal myths. The stories we choose to remember, and how we continue to retell them to ourselves, often say more about us than the actual events. That theme really guided our editorial approach, and I think it gave the series a layered, thoughtful quality that speaks to both new and older audiences.
How familiar were you with the work of Dr. Zimbardo prior to working on The Stanford Prison Experiment? Did you refer to any previous texts or materials in shaping the edit of this new docuseries?
I was definitely familiar with Dr. Zimbardo’s work before starting the project—especially through the 2015 feature film The Stanford Prison Experiment, which offered a dramatic take on the events. That film was part of the broader cultural understanding I brought into the series. But when I begin editing a documentary like this, I always try to strike a balance: I want to know enough about the subject to be grounded, so I do a deep dive—reading, watching, absorbing as much as I can—but I also make a point not to get lost in the weeds.
As an editor, I see myself as the filter between the director and the audience. I want to stay emotionally connected to the story, so I can approach it through the eyes of the viewer. That means simplifying where necessary, finding a coherent lens, and always trying to strike that balance between emotional arc and the delivery of information. It’s about giving the audience just enough to stay engaged and emotionally invested—without overwhelming them.
I have a saying I often come back to: the most compelling documentaries aren’t lectures, they’re emotional experiences. That was very much the approach we took on Unlocking the Truth—crafting something that invites viewers in through feeling, not just facts.
The show features an interesting combination of archival footage, reenactments, and contemporary interviews. How did you balance these three elements in the edit?
What I love most about the unscripted medium is the challenge of taking all these disparate elements—archival footage, reenactments, interviews—and weaving them into a single, cohesive story. The Stanford Prison Experiment was a perfect example of that. I especially enjoy working with archival material when it’s character-driven. There’s something about the look and texture of 1970s footage—it’s visually rich and emotionally charged.
One of the big creative challenges in this series was blending the reenactments, which Juliette did an amazing job directing, with the original archival footage from the actual experiment. I had to be really intentional about how we transitioned between the two. I studied the camera movements and framing in the archival footage and made sure to select similar moments in the reenactments so they felt like part of the same visual language. That consistency helped smooth the transitions and maintain immersion.
Using reenactments without making them feel cheesy or out of place is always a tricky balance. I relied a lot on match cuts and carefully timed transitions—deciding when to enter a reenactment, how long to stay in it, and when to cut back—to keep the rhythm fluid.
With the interviews, I tried to create a kind of dialogue between the past and present. For example, I’d have a character say something in an archival interview and then cut to a present-day interview that either builds on or contradicts that idea, creating a sense of tension or continuity across time.
To me, it doesn’t matter how different the sources are—what matters is that they’re serving the story. When it all clicks, it feels like magic. As editors, we breathe life into all these disparate materials, and somehow, they come together to create something cohesive and emotionally resonant.
You also have a number of feature documentaries to your name, with a recent credit on the 2024 extreme sports documentary Freediver. Can you talk more about your work with director Michael John Warren and how you helped bring his vision to life?
I really enjoyed working with Michael John Warren on Freediver. He’s one of the most prepared directors I’ve ever worked with—nothing was left to chance. Before we even started editing, he had already mapped out a detailed structure for the film. He knew the emotional beats of each scene and had a clear vision for the overall arc, which gave us a strong foundation to build on.
One thing that made a huge difference in the edit was that Michael collaborated early on with our composer, James William Blades, to develop a score we could use during the rough cuts. Having that music from the beginning really helped us find the tone and emotional texture of the film—it added so much depth to the scenes and shaped the pacing in a very organic way.
Michael is a huge fan of sci-fi, and he would often encourage us to imagine the deep ocean as a kind of outer space—Alexey descending into the abyss as if he was flying through the void. That concept opened up a lot of creative possibilities, especially for the underwater reenactments.
Freediving is a deeply spiritual sport—almost like meditation underwater. At times, it can lead to intense psychological experiences, not unlike psychedelics. Trying to bring that inner world to the screen—those subtle, emotional, and even surreal layers—was one of the most creatively exciting parts of the project.
I also feel lucky to have worked with Boardwalk Pictures and Skydance Sports on this. They’ve always been champions of experimentation and artistic risk-taking, and they really gave us the freedom to push the boundaries of storytelling in this film.
Do you have a favorite subgenre of documentary in which you prefer to work?
I wouldn’t say I have a favorite genre—what draws me in is a great story. If the storytelling is strong, I’m always excited to be part of it, regardless of the subject matter or style. For me, the real magic happens when all the elements align: when the director, editor, studio, and network are all on the same page. That kind of creative harmony allows us to paint a truly resonant picture—one that connects with audiences on a deeper level.
I’m always open to exploring new stories and experimenting with different styles and techniques. In fact, I love blending genres and pushing the boundaries of what a documentary or series can be. That willingness to experiment keeps the work exciting and helps each project find its own unique voice.
Are there any upcoming projects you are excited to share with audiences?
I just wrapped a three-part docuseries for Amazon called Taurasi, about the GOAT of women’s basketball—Diana Taurasi. It’s directed by the incredible Katie Bender Wynn and produced by Skydance Sports. The series explores the story behind Diana’s legendary career and the legacy she’s built as one of the greatest basketball players in the world.
Katie and I have been in the trenches together for the past six months, working hard to do justice to this powerful story. Katie has a razor-sharp attention to detail that elevates every frame—nothing slips by her, and that level of precision really shaped the quality of the show.
This story is especially close to my heart because, at its core, it’s an immigrant story—one of resilience, sacrifice, and ultimately, success. It’s been an honor to help bring that journey to life.
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