Tell us why and how you got into filmmaking.
My journey into filmmaking is deeply rooted in my upbringing and my father’s legacy. From a young age, I was immersed in the world of Asian American filmmaking and community activism. My dad, Robert A. Nakamura, was a towering figure in both realms — a fact I didn’t fully appreciate as a child. My parents often dragged me to film screenings, meetings, and events or left me to explore while they worked at places like Visual Communications and the Japanese American National Museum — both of which my dad co-founded. At the time, I saw these moments as just another part of my family’s routine, not realizing the profound impact his work had on the community.
It wasn’t until I attended UCLA as an undergraduate that I began to understand my father’s contributions. As an Asian American studies major, I encountered his name in books and classroom discussions, where he was often referred to as “The godfather of Asian American media.” Seeing his films screened in class and hearing professors discuss his pioneering activism filled me with pride and sparked my own interest in Asian American studies and student activism.
My first exposure to filmmaking came through my dad’s documentary production course at UCLA, which I initially took because I needed an easy A. It turned out to be a life-changing experience. Picking up a camera and making my first film felt natural. It became clear to me that filmmaking was a powerful tool to channel my passion for activism and building community.
As I continued working on projects — often with my dad as both mentor and collaborator — I began to see myself as a filmmaker, not just his student. His guidance and our shared experiences taught me how to weave personal and community stories into films that could resonate deeply with audiences.
Who are your creative heroes?
Prince! Which is why I named my son after him. Besides my dad, my other filmmaking heroes are Spencer Nakasako, Renee Tajima-Peña, Spike Lee, and Spike Jonze.
What was the last thing you saw that you wish you made?
Any season of Last Chance U.
Which of your personal characteristics contributes most to your success as a storyteller?
One of the personal characteristics that contributes most to my success as a storyteller is my deep dedication to carrying on my dad’s legacy of documenting and presenting stories from the Asian American community. For me, filmmaking is more than just a career or an occupation — it’s a purpose. It’s a way to honor the experiences and struggles of my family and community while contributing to a larger conversation about identity, history, and resilience. This sense of purpose drives me to approach each project with focus and intention, knowing the work has meaning far beyond myself.
I’m fortunate to be part of an incredible Asian American filmmaking community, and I recognize the power of working with others. My strength lies in creating a space where collaborators feel supported and empowered to bring their full talents and craft to a project. By fostering an environment of trust and shared purpose, I’m able to elevate the collective effort and ensure the story is told with authenticity and heart.
My success as a storyteller comes from my dedication to community, collaboration, and the understanding that storytelling is a shared endeavor — one that allows us to preserve and amplify voices that deserve to be heard.
Tell us about your history with Sundance Institute. When was the first time you engaged with us? Why did you want your film to premiere with us?
My history with the Sundance Institute began in 2002 when I attended the Sundance Film Festival for the first time. My dad premiered his short documentary Toyo Miyatake: Infinite Shades of Gray that year. It was a trip full of firsts for me — my first time seeing falling snow and my first taste of the magic and excitement of Sundance. I was captivated by the novelty of walking through snow, hopping on shuttles to venues, standing in line hoping to catch a screening, and spotting celebrities on the street. While I should say that attending my dad’s screening was the highlight, it was actually another experience that left the deepest impression on me.
I attended the world premiere of Amandla!: A Revolution in Four-Part Harmony. I was not only inspired by the film but also blown away when some of the participants broke into song during the Q&A. On my way back to Los Angeles, I recognized the director, Lee Hirsch, at the airport Burger King. I nervously approached him to tell him how inspiring his film was, and his gracious response left me thinking, “Wow, he’s just a normal guy eating a Whopper, just like me.” That interaction solidified Sundance in my mind as a place where creativity, connection, and inspiration thrived. Ever since, premiering a film at Sundance became a dream of mine.
In 2008, I had the honor of premiering my short film Pilgrimage at the Sundance Film Festival. Making that film with my dad was a pivotal experience, and its creation is actually a key moment in Third Act. Once again, while screening my film should have been the highlight of the Festival, another experience stood out. I attended the world premiere of Slingshot Hip Hopwhere the Palestinian hip-hop group DAM, featured in the film, was in attendance. The energy and emotion in that theater created a viewing experience that I will never forget. Moments like that are what make Sundance such a special experience for me, not just about showcasing films but creating profound connections between art, audiences, and filmmakers.
Sundance Institute has played a critical role in bringing Third Act to life. The film received support from Sundance Institute’s Documentary Film Program, and I had the opportunity to workshop the project through the Sundance Asian American Fellowship. That support was invaluable, both personally and professionally, as I navigated the emotional and creative challenges of this project.
In many ways, Sundance has been a defining part of my filmmaking journey. My dad premiered the last film he directed at Sundance in 2002, and I premiered one of my first films there in 2008. To premiere Third Act at Sundance would be a full-circle moment, a dream realized, and a meaningful way to honor my dad’s legacy and our shared journey as filmmakers.
Who was the first person you told when you learned you got into the Sundance Film Festival?
The first person I called when I learned I got into Sundance was my dad. He didn’t pick up, so I called my mom. When I told her the news, she screamed and then said, “Wait, let me put you on speaker phone so you can tell dad!” She pressed the wrong button and hung up on me. After trying to call her back for five frustrating minutes and a little excitement lost, I finally was able to tell my dad, to which he responded with “Alriiiight!”
