Exploring bold new works from filmmakers around the world, the 54th New Directors/New Films, our annual festival co-presented with The Museum of Modern Art, is officially underway through April 13. As the festival continues, get to know the filmmakers who speak to the present and anticipate the future of cinema.

Joel Alfonso Vargas discusses making a New York story and what it means to screen his film Mad Bills to Pay (or Destiny, dile que no soy malo) at ND/NF.

What made you first want to be a director?

I fell in love with film at an early age. My introduction came through movies my older brother would bring home from our local video store—especially Martin Scorsese’s Italian-American classics. Those films felt raw and honest in a way that stood out from everything else I was watching at the time. They reminded me of my neighborhood in The Bronx and the characters I grew up around. But beyond that, I was fascinated by film’s ability to transport me to different worlds, to bridge me to people and experiences far removed from my own, all through a shared human connection. In college, I initially studied engineering but quickly realized it wasn’t for me. When I switched to film studies, it felt like stepping into my true path. I became obsessed, devouring as many films as I could. I still remember watching A Woman Under the Influence and being absolutely floored. I realized I was drawn to films that eschewed artifice in their approach, embraced improvisation, and captured life with unapologetic honesty. After studying documentary filmmaking in London on a Fulbright, I returned to New York with a fresh perspective. Being back in my hometown after years away, I saw it differently—almost like a foreigner. The Bronx, my family, my community—all of it was brimming with stories I felt compelled and qualified to tell. I had matured enough to appreciate the uniqueness of my experiences: growing up in the projects, being the child of Dominican immigrants who arrived in the ’60s, and witnessing pivotal moments in NYC history through my family’s eyes. I saw an underrepresented landscape that I wanted to explore through my work as a filmmaker, writer, and director. Then 2016 happened. The value of communities like mine—immigrants, people of color—was suddenly under attack. That only deepened my urgency to tell stories that reflect and advocate for us.

Was there a film or director you were inspired by or continue to be inspired by?

In my twenties, I discovered the films by Pedro Costa, and I became an instant fan. I watched his entire filmography in a week, mesmerized by the Fontainhas Trilogy—how it wrestled with the question of hybrid filmmaking, blurring the line between documentary and fiction cinema while capturing the erasure of a community. His observational style resonated with me on a personal level, and coming from a documentary background myself, I admired the grassroots, organic way he approached filmmaking. The more I learned about Costa’s process—working without traditional scripts, collaborating closely with the communities he portrays both in front of and behind the camera, and employing unconventional production timelines—the more I saw a model for my own approach. In grad school, I wrote my dissertation on him, dissecting how he structured his stories, composed his shots, and navigated a filmmaking ecosystem on his own terms. His influence still ripples through my work. Maurice Pialat and John Cassavetes were also major influences—two directors who, despite rubbing shoulders with the industry (in their respective territories) more than Costa, were equally pioneering in their use of improvisation and elliptical storytelling. And in the contemporary space, I closely follow filmmakers like Roberto Minervini, Nicolás Pereda, João Salaviza, Carlos Reygadas, Chloé Zhao, Gianfranco Rosi, and Ulrich Seidl—filmmakers who straddle the intersection of documentary and fiction. And of course, Scorsese—but that one goes without saying for any New York filmmaker.

In your own words, tell us about your film. What should audiences know?

Mad Bills to Pay follows Rico and Destiny as they navigate a teen pregnancy while selling “nutcracker” cocktails during a summer in The Bronx. It’s deeply personal, drawn from childhood memories—my family dynamics, the borough’s hustler culture, those mad, hot New York City summers. Rico is an amalgamation of the guys I grew up around—kids forced into adult responsibilities too soon, raised with the expectation to “man up” despite having no blueprint for what that actually means. That tension—between the social pressure to be a man and the naïveté of still being a boy—sits at the heart of the film. My parents, who were both teenage parents, were also big inspirations.

What does it mean to you to show your film at New Directors/New Films?

Mad Bills to Pay is quintessentially a New York story, so screening at ND/NF feels deeply significant. As a filmmaker who grew up in this city and as a longtime fan of the festival—where I’ve discovered some of my favorite films and filmmakers—it’s an honor to debut my work here. But beyond personal reasons, there’s a bigger layer of significance. Mad Bills to Pay portrays a Dominican-American community—my community—one that has often been overlooked or misrepresented in cinema. To bring this film to audiences via Lincoln Center and MoMA, two of New York’s most important cultural institutions, is to make a statement: that our stories, our characters, our actors belong here. That means the world to me.

What was the biggest lesson you learned during the making of your film?

Too many to count! But one of the biggest lessons was learning to trust my instincts and get out of my head. Also, to never settle when casting. A great actor can come from anywhere, and you have to exhaust every option to find the right people. Casting is the most important fight as a director—it makes everything easier, more organic, and more truthful. On Mad Bills to Pay, working with the cast was a dream; we clicked immediately. There was an unspoken understanding between us, which made directing feel effortless. I’ve also learned that sometimes, and paradoxically, directing isn’t about having all the answers—it’s about surrounding yourself with the right people and trusting them to guide you, too.

What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever been given?

We live in a culture that glorifies overworking—chasing, competing, burning out. Some of the best advice I’ve received is about self-care: knowing your limits, slowing down, taking breaks, spending time with friends and family, adopting an abundance mindset. Filmmaking can be brutal, physically and emotionally. Taking care of yourself isn’t just important—it’s essential to having a long, sustainable career.

What else do you enjoy doing outside of filmmaking?

I love cycling, hiking, reading, journaling—anything that puts me in a meditative headspace. Being in nature, being present, it grounds me. But I also have a messier side. I love indulging—sleeping in, music, clubs, dancing. Sometimes you just need to purge the overthinking and get out of your head.

What’s a film you saw recently that you enjoyed?

I recently revisited Taxi Driver while developing something new. It’s a masterpiece. From this year’s awards season, The Brutalist stood out—Adrien Brody’s performance was exceptional. Anora was another highlight. Big love to Sean Baker for the awareness he’s bringing to the struggles of indie filmmakers.

Mad Bills to Pay

Joel Alfonso Vargas’s Mad Bills to Pay (or Destiny, dile que no soy malo) screens on April 4 & April 5. New Directors/New Films takes place April 2-April 13. Explore the lineup and get tickets.