NYWIFT Blog

By Itu Phalane

Welcome to NYWIFT, Andrea Ocampo!

Andrea is a first-generation Colombian filmmaker. She is drawn to the quiet forces that have shaped her: obsession, memory, and identity in flux. She is a proud artist who directs with a lens for the psychological and surreal, blending documentary realism with fiction laced in intimate mystery. Her latest short Blackout is a psychological thriller set in the NYC subway, and it premiered to a sold-out crowd on September 13^th, 2025, at Imagine This Women’s Film Festival. She navigates global crises and inner landscapes with equal urgency. Her work has a raw, honest, and quietly haunted feel to it. Chances are you’ll feel it before you understand it. We spoke to Andrea in late Summer. She recounts her experience in the film industry, tracing her path from a passionate young filmmaker in her early childhood to the successful professional she has become.

NYWIFT Member Andrea Ocampo

Can you give our readers a short introduction to who you are?

I’m Andrea Ocampo, a first-generation filmmaker—assembled in the United States with Colombian parts. I’m a proud American, Latina, and LGBTQ director whose work explores identity, memory, and the psychological forces that often go unseen. I move between two cinematic worlds: vérité-style documentary and fiction laced with intimate mystery. By day, I’m a doc filmmaker at a global non-profit; by night, I tell stories like Blackout, my latest short film, which will premiere in NYC this September. It explores how fear warps perception in liminal spaces, especially when identity and trauma are in play. We’re thrilled to be premiering at the Imagine This Women’s Film Festival and proud to say our screening is already sold out, weeks in advance. That kind of early audience interest is deeply affirming, especially for a film that sits in such an emotionally tense, surreal pocket.

Andrea Ocampo on set.

What brought you to NYWIFT?

I came to NYWIFT looking for community, mentorship, and creative fuel. This city is full of incredible women and nonbinary storytellers, many of whom have quietly changed the game, and I wanted to be in that room. I believe in building a career not just from talent, but from solidarity. NYWIFT is one of the few places where that’s built into the DNA.

Andrea collaborating with other filmmakers.

Some people believe in serendipity. Do you think that discovering your parents’ camcorder when you were 11 years old was a premonition of the purpose of your life?

I do. At 11, I didn’t have the words for it yet—but that camcorder cracked open a world I could shape, reframe, and reimagine. As a kid navigating layered identities—moving between New York, Colombia, and Florida, and trying to make sense of complex family dynamics—filmmaking gave me language before I had one. I’d film anyone who’d play along: friends, family, and neighbors. I’d transcribe scenes from commercials or movies and direct reenactments. Sometimes it was dance-offs. Sometimes fake game shows. I even hosted homemade award shows with hand-drawn certificates as thank-yous. I got in trouble more than once for taping over my mom’s workout videos. And I cried hard the day that camera died. It would be years before I could afford to replace it, but I never stopped seeing the world like a filmmaker. That moment didn’t just plant a seed—it showed me that storytelling was how I made sense of the world. Everything since has been about following that pull with integrity and intention.

Andrea during her teenage years.

When did you realize you wanted to be a filmmaker, and what made that clear?

I don’t think there was ever a single moment of realization— it was more like a quiet knowing that was always there. Filmmaking called to me early, but as the eldest daughter of immigrants, I was taught to choose stability over dreams. I internalized that. For a long time, I lived to check boxes. But the filmmaker in me never died. She was patient. She waited. Eventually, I couldn’t keep silencing that part of myself. So I started carving out time after work, on weekends, between obligations, making short films, collaborating with friends, chasing stories. It wasn’t about permission anymore. It was about remembering who I already was.

You served as both a director and cinematographer in Starlit. It is generally known that performing both roles can be challenging due to the heavy workload and the different skill sets required for each. What difficulties did you face while handling both responsibilities?

Starlit was both a creative challenge and an act of love. I came on board in 2016, after most of the film had already been shot. The producer, Kerry Borchardt, whom I met at SVA, had originally brought on a different team, but when the project stalled, he trusted me to step in and bring it to the finish line. By then, the budget was gone, the footage was fragmented, and the emotional core of the story still needed to be pulled through. The film centers around a young girl hiking the Appalachian Trail, something Kerry was personally passionate about. As fate would have it, he passed away doing what he loved most. I carry that with me. His trust meant everything, and I felt a deep responsibility to honor his vision. Taking on both directing and cinematography wasn’t just a creative choice—it was a necessity. I had to rework the story from what existed and shoot new material to bring emotional cohesion to the final cut. It was a puzzle that demanded both precision and intuition. In some ways, it echoed my early filmmaking—writing, shooting, and directing with whoever would play along. That instinct to build something from limited resources has always been part of my creative DNA. I’m proud of what we created, and with Blackout, I had the opportunity to take that growth even further. I brought on an incredible DP, Rutuja Sawant, and we worked closely in pre-production to align on the visual language of the film. That collaboration allowed me to give my full energy to directing once we were on set, which made all the difference. I look forward to continuing that path—building strong creative partnerships where I can focus fully on performance, story, and emotional truth, while trusting the visual world to a DP who brings the same care to the craft.

Andrea on location.

To what extent will the work you did at the United Nations be incorporated into your vision for your films?

My doc work has taught me how to witness. How to listen deeply. How to hold space for stories that carry both trauma and dignity. That experience is woven into everything I do, especially how I approach characters and emotional nuance. Even in fiction, I’m always asking: What truth are we revealing? Who gets to be seen? And how can we honor the complexity of human experience without flattening it? 

Andrea in Latin America.

Which director has influenced your filmmaking style and why?

I’m drawn to filmmakers who trust the audience to sit with discomfort, like Lynne Ramsay, Céline Sciamma, and Lucrecia Martel. They don’t over-explain. They create space for silence, ambiguity, and emotional residue. That’s something I aspire to in my own work—to leave room for what’s unsaid, to trust the audience will feel it. That said, it’s hard to name just one influence. I admire filmmakers who’ve carved out a voice so distinct you recognize it instantly, like Tarantino, Spielberg, or Spike Lee. I also hold deep respect for anyone who never gave up on their calling. Maybe because I veered off my own path for a time, and had to fight my way back. I study filmmakers constantly—peers and legends alike—because cinema is a living language, and I want to keep becoming more fluent in it.

Andrea filming in Qatar.

What kind of projects would you like to work on in the future?

I’m drawn to projects that blur the line between reality and the internal world—psychological thrillers, magical realism, and deeply intimate stories that ask: what happens when our inner landscape begins to spill out? I want to keep building stories that are intimate in scale but emotionally vast. Stories that linger. I also want to collaborate with writers and producers who believe that truth can be told slant, and that fiction can hit harder than fact when it’s done right.

Connect with Andrea Ocampo on LinkedIn and follow her on Instagram at @ao_andreaocampo.

(All images courtesy of Andrea Ocampo)