From Tech Disruptor to Filmmaker: How Alexandra Qin Found Her Voice

Mixed Asian Media - July 9, 2024

By Angela Wong Carbone

 
Alexandra Qin stands outside Sundance Film Festival.

Photo credit: Bianca Catbagan

 

As someone who grew up across continents and cultural worlds, Alexandra Qin has learned to adapt in expansive ways. It only makes sense that her first narrative short, Thirstygirl, has had such wild and immediate success in the film world, of which she has been on the scene for a short time. But, make no mistake, Qin is here to stay. She spoke with Mixed Asian Media’s Angela Wong Carbone amid all the Sundance excitement to speak about feeding her inner child through film, crafting opportunities for more intriguing and f*cked-up characters, and how she hopes to leverage her disruptor skills for meaningful changes in this ever-shifting film industry.

This interview is part of the 5 Filmmakers to Watch series. Check out our interviews with Chelsie Pennello, Maegan Houang, Emily Jampel, and the team behind FutureProof!

*CONTENT WARNING: THIS INTERVIEW INCLUDES DISCUSSION OF ADDICTION, AND HAS BEEN EDITED FOR CLARITY AND LENGTH.


Interview


Thirstygirl is such a strong debut for a filmmaker. This is your first everything, right? Where did it come from? 

I chose the right people to collaborate with: Our creative producer and editor Esteban Pedraza, director of photography Fletcher Wolfe, producer and casting director Brooke Goldman, and leads Samantha Ahn and Claire Dunn are the reason that the film works. I wrote and directed a one-minute PSA for the Sexual Assault Center of Tennessee before this. My husband hired me for it — he was the creative director for the project and gave me my first directing opportunity because he’s a true sponsor. 

You only need one person to believe in you. 

It’s true. And I want to be that person for other people. In my previous career, I was all about mentoring, teaching, helping, and uplifting others. I’m always trying to pay it forward. Writing Thirstygirl and directing the short was honestly one of the hardest things I’ve done professionally, mostly because of the emotional rollercoaster of making a film. The short is actually based on my feature-length screenplay by the same name. Taking meetings with producers about making the feature, I wanted to direct it, but I also knew that I had never done it.

The hardest part was in the editing process. Realizing that the film I wrote wasn’t really working and being faced with that. We cut five minutes and changed the narrative structure of the film to be much more mysterious and restrained. That was a very difficult and emotional process, editing for months with my husband, getting at each other’s throats and just feeling that this wasn’t working.

How did you figure out that the film wasn’t working? And then what did you learn from the editing process?

This is where I think my experience as a software engineer and a nonprofit CEO came in handy because when you’re building a good product, it’s all about user feedback and testing your product. You don’t build something and just assume, “This is great.” You test it out. You get feedback. You change it to fit what the user wants.

I sent it to a few different people and I realized 20% of people who watched it actually like it. That’s too low, not a good film. It has to be at least 50.

My goal with each rough cut was to increase the percentage. A friend and mentor, Michael Riley, said, “Listen, this is fine, but it’s not working. There is not enough conflict. You got to rework this.” That was the most helpful feedback. When we sent that new cut around, 60% of people really liked the film.

 
In a still shot from the film, Thirstygirl, a dimly lit Samantha Ahn stands in front of a wall while looking toward a man whose back is to the camera. The entire scene is in reddish hues.

Photo courtesy of Alexandra Qin

 

How’d you go about moving from an industry totally outside of film to this community? Do you feel your mixed-Asian identity factors into that impetus to build a community? 

I do think my mixedness is something that’s helped me move through worlds with more ease. When I started college, I fell in love with coding. I was not welcome in the computer science world of NYU because at the time, in 2008, I did not look like a coding nerd. And so I had to work really hard and contort myself to become accepted in the tech industry.

I did that again when I became very passionate about the movement to end mass incarceration. Most of the people working in that space are Black and Latino folks, a lot of whom have a direct history with incarceration. So I also stuck out, but at the same time was definitely welcomed with open arms because of my very genuine desire to learn and be of service. 

I haven’t been making movies very long, but I’ve always loved movies. These connections based on this art form are really feeding my inner child. That’s why this new community feels so filling. 

You’re very open about your recovery process and I think understanding addiction has to do with getting in touch with that inner child. Were there any challenges or takeaways from that experience? 

So many Asian women have come up to me saying, “Thank you for writing this. There are never roles like this. It’s always the best friend, the nerd, etc.”

I wanted to write a nuanced, compassionate portrayal of sex addiction within the context of a sister and family dynamic, exploring the root of trauma to addiction. I wanted to write it from the perspective of an Asian woman because that is not something I had seen before. 

My personal writer’s logline is that I write fucked-up characters of Asian descent because that’s who I am.

This level of being very vulnerable, that’s what helps me heal. Sometimes I help others, which is also wonderful. But also, there’s this level of kind of emotional danger of revealing yourself so much. I think as a sober person, my life is pretty even-keel. My new drug is kind of the emotional excitement I get from making very exhibitionistic art.

Are there any things that you’re ruminating on after this experience about film? 

One thing that I hear a lot about my projects is, “Oh, casting is going to be an issue,” because I only write protagonists of Asian descent. “There are very few bankable, name actors of Asian descent that can get the project greenlit.”

I want that to change. I want people to be excited about taking chances on lesser-known talent and be excited about discovering or uplifting Asian talent and not see that as a challenge to fundraising, which is what I've heard from literally every single producer that I've talked to. 

Not everyone is down for what I want to do, but some really are. There are so many Asian leaders of the film community who are there to uplift our work. 


End of Interview


Thirstygirl played at Palm Springs Shorts Fest in 2023 and Sundance Film Festival in 2024. Follow updates on the film and Alexandra Qin’s work at her Linktree and @thirstygirl.film.

 

Angela Wong Carbone (she/her) is a decorated actor and writer. Her writing has been recognized by AT&T Hello Lab, Hillman Grad’s mentorship program, The Gotham, Slamdance and others. Raised in New York by an immigrant Chinese mother and Italian American father, Wong Carbone’s personal curiosity toward identity saturates her writing and she has contributed to Eileen Kelly’s Killer and a Sweet Thang and Lulu Gioiello’s Far Near. As an actor, Wong Carbone has starred in NBC’s Chicago Med, AppleTV+’s WeCrashed and IFC Films’ Resurrection. In 2020, she was selected for the 19th annual ABC Talent Showcase. Wong Carbone holds a degree in architecture from Cornell University and makes a mean lasagna.