Arielle Egozi —writer, director, occassional rapper








                                            
                                           






A she/they creating through the perspective of a first-gen kid of immigrants in a queer body with a neurodivergent mind.

Influences include: 90s skate culture, strippers, brazilian tropicalia, vernacular modernism, mal ojos, girlhood, japanese avant-garde, brutalist web, grief rituals


  How would
       you
          describe yourself 
                in
three words?


   curious about (the) authentic.





A Manifesto

 Create with integrity, produce with intention. There is no hierarchy of the lived experience. Don’t make art that way. That being said, own what’s yours. Challenge perceived authority. Not because you can, but because the work deserves it, and so does your audience. Make the process as important – if not, more – than the outcome. Create environments of play. Make it safe to be silly, to get stupid Keep your loved ones close. Let them be there for you. Be there for them. Put the work, and yourself, in spaces that challenge it – and you. Take deep breaths when the birthing gets uncomfortable. Remember that’s just what it takes to create life, to bring forth work that’s alive. It’s hard because it’s new. Always be learning something new. Surround yourself with people who know more than you do. Ask questions. A reminder that a fancy title doesn’t mean they know more than you do. Create for yourself as audience. Create for your communities.  Your work will always be just a mere slice of representation, and even so, you have a great responsibility to them. Let your ancestors make things with you. Talk to them. Listen. Let them carry you. Follow your body’s instincts. If something doesn’t feel right, it’s not. Don’t believe anyone when they tell you “this is just how it is” when “how it is” takes your power and agency away. Learn what moves you, and what doesn’t. Stick to what moves you. Learn what moves others, and what doesn’t. Stick to what moves them. First drafts are shit. So are second and third drafts. Take the pressure off. You’re the only one putting it there. The work gets worse before it gets better. It’s not about the ego – let awards, algorithms, and advertising deals stay where they need to. It’s not about you. Even if it’s about you, it’s not about you. It’s about the awkward, real, authentic alchemy that is being a soul in a body living on this earth. It’s gross a lot of the time. Stop trying to make it perfect. Let the work live and grow into itself. Never ask “why me?” Ask “why not me?” Don’t pander to assholes. Stay yourself. Surround yourself with people who want you to succeed, and believe that you already have. Use your autism. It lets you be brave, it lets you stand up to and for people when others don’t know how. Remind yourself every day that you deserve this. That you can handle the responsibility. That you will do a better job than most who came before you. Not because you’re any better, but because you hold the humanity of others sacred. Use all the senses you have access to. Don’t let anyone label you as just having access to one. Invite others into your process. Let them see you vulnerable. Stay curious. The moment you think you know everything about anything, that thing dies. Practice patience. Practice silence. Practice failing. It’s okay to fail. It’s okay to win. It’s okay to be right where you are, in this moment. Remember that the only thing you’re moving towards is death.  





TV & FILM
The School For Good Boys
A Dominatrix runs a reform school 
for fuckboys.

    


                                             
IN POST:

Hold Still
A queer little girl’s first shave.

IN PRE-PRODUCTION:

WASIAN | short
Dark satire centering an Asian actor willing to become someone else to finally be seen.

SCRIPTS:

Shoe Money | hour-long
 Two Cuban Jewish brothers chase the American dream in 1960s Miami, one through shoes, the other through queer crime.

(over)stimulated | feature
An autistic pop star gets everything she's ever wanted, only to discover the industry wants someone else entirely.

Florida Fruit Flies | half-hour
An absurdist Florida comedy about two families on opposite sides of the swamp, united by secrets, schemes, and bottomless delusion.

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