Tell us a little bit about yourself. What is your name and official title? 

My name is Elaine Del Valle, a proud Puerto Rican from New York—Director, Writer, Producer, Actor, and Casting Director—dedicated to bringing authentic stories to the screen. 

Where are you from originally? Can you tell us a little bit about your background? 

I grew up as the youngest of four, enveloped in the love of an altruistic, righteous mother and her ten siblings who used humor and Vicks Vapor Rub as cure-alls. Family get-togethers meant forming an assembly line to make Puerto Rican pasteles and laughing through tears at their endless joke-filled recollections, seemingly in competition for the best childhood trauma. Their disarming way of sharing wisdom through their wounds, finding the courage to be vulnerable and using laughter to develop shame resilience continues to inform my artistic approach. It has ingrained in me the healing power of storytelling.

We lived in Brownsville, Brooklyn – the notorious murder capital of New York – a community more populated than 98.5% of the nation’s neighborhoods. It is a place where maintaining a positive outlook requires creativity. I was the unexpected, straight-A student who loved to draw, write poetry, and spit raps to reflect on, rationalize, and find solutions to the deteriorating world around me. 

How long have you been a filmmaker, and what drew you to this world?

I’ve been directing since 2013, a path born out of both frustration and determination. As a Latina actress, I rarely saw roles that felt authentic—so I started writing them myself. And when no one else was going to produce or direct those stories, I stepped up to do it. That fire to create something real, something true, is what has fueled every project since.

My passion for storytelling is rooted in my childhood. My father, a New York City public school janitor, never stopped chasing his dream of becoming a Salsa musician and singer/songwriter. Watching him pour his heart into music—whether or not the world was listening—taught me that art isn’t just about recognition; it’s about expression, legacy, and love. When he passed away while I was still a teenager, I learned firsthand the enduring power of the art we leave behind. His songs, his spirit, continue to guide me.

That’s why I direct. Because stories outlive us. They heal, they connect, and they remind us of who we are. Every frame I create is a reflection of that belief—and of the responsibility I feel to bring forth the voices and images that were missing when I was growing up.

What was that moment that you said, “This is it. I want to work in film…”

I can name a few instances when I had the “this is it” moment. The first time was when I was twelve years old. I was the lead in a school play and I knew that I wanted nothing more than to create escapes through entertainment. A decade later I was acting on camera and a decade after that I wrote my first play. It was a one-woman show that eventually brought me off Broadway and made me value my voice. In 2013 I wrote, produced and (out of default) directed my first web series– I knew I was hooked the moment I realized how much I love working with actors—guiding and supporting them to uncover truth in a performance—and then watching that truth live in every frame. Trusting my visual instincts and seeing the story land as I envisioned is electrifying.

Who are some of your film inspirations/heroes? What are the places, people or things that ignite your ideas and creativity?

I love the work of Andrea Arnold, Tara Miele, Jordan Peele, Ava Duvernay and so many others. My work always starts from the truth. I try to write what I know and can find inspiration everywhere. I especially love to work from character. 

You participated in this year’s LALIFF. Tell us a little bit about that experience. 

This year’s LALIFF was unforgettable because it marked the festival premiere of my feature film, Brownsville Bred. It was the very first time I watched it with an audience, on a big screen—and my teeth literally chattered through all 90 minutes. But then I heard collective gasps, applause mid-film, sniffles, and tears. The audience reaction was
everything I could have dreamed of.

Brownsville Bred tells my deeply personal coming-of-age story, rooted in Puerto Rican family bonds, yet at LALIFF I witnessed how universal it really is. Though it’s a Latino festival, the audience represented so many walks of life, and people told me they saw themselves in it. Many said they left wanting to call a loved one just to say “I love you.” That, to me, is the greatest reward of storytelling—reminding us that, no matter our differences, we are all connected.

What has life been like after LALIFF? What is the current status of your film? 

Life after LALIFF has been transformative. Experiencing the premiere of Brownsville Bred with a live audience made me realize just how important it is for this film to be seen in theaters—where people can gasp, laugh, cry, and connect together through a shared experience. That collective energy ignited my passion to fight for a theatrical release, and since then I’ve been learning everything I can about what it takes for an indie film to make it to the big screen. It’s challenging, but it’s also absolutely possible.

At our screening, someone who had seen a screener and already believed in the film became even more committed after feeling the audience reaction. He has since been helping me every step of the way, bringing a team and a strategy to ensure Brownsville Bred reaches the masses. I’ve been so blessed that this story and its characters have inspired champions—including the Latino Film Institute itself. After the screening, Edward James Olmos told me, “You will win an Oscar.” I laughed and said I was aiming for a nomination for the John Cassavetes Award—but his faith in my film opened my eyes to the greatest possibility in the world.

Right now, we’re gearing up for screenings and a limited release in major markets. For me, it’s all about creating opportunities for audiences to come together, feel this story, and leave reminded of the bonds that connect us all.

What do you want audiences to take away from your work? 

MI want audiences to walk away from my work feeling both seen and connected. My films often center on an urban American Latiné woman navigating identity, culture, and environment—protagonists we rarely get to witness on screen, especially through the lens of someone who has lived that reality.

But beyond representation, my deepest goal is to spark compassion and connection. I want people to recognize pieces of themselves in these stories, even if the details of culture or circumstance are different. If audiences leave rethinking obstacles as opportunities, and inspired to turn hardship into fuel for growth, then I’ve done my job.

For me, the power of cinema is transformation. I want people to leave my films with a renewed sense of strength, and a reminder that our struggles can be the very thing that makes us whole.

I’ve never felt more fulfilled than when I wrapped principal photography on Brownsville Bred. It took nearly three years to film 92 pages—piece by piece, 20 to 25 pages at a time—whenever I could afford to pick up the camera. In total, we shot 15 days in New York, including my hometown of Brownsville, Brooklyn, and 6 days in Puerto Rico, where we finally wrapped in December 2023.

I financed it through grants, fiscally sponsored fundraising, and my own savings. It wasn’t the fast or easy path, but it was the only way to get it done. And in the process, I learned that when studios don’t immediately see the value of a story, you can still show them—by proving it yourself.

What is an accomplishment, either personal or professional, that makes you extremely proud?

What I’m most proud of is the team that came together around this film. Actors, crew, producers—they all believed in me and in the story. I take pride in having communicated its worth so clearly that incredible artists lent their talents to help me bring it to life. That trust, that collaboration, is my proudest accomplishment.

What advice do you have to someone that is just starting out in this industry and doesn’t know where to begin?

My advice is to start where you are, with what you have. Learn through books, podcasts, and classes—but don’t wait for permission. Create a writers’ group or community that keeps you accountable. Early on, I promised myself one short film a year. Each became a marker of growth and prepared me for the leap to features.

Also, learn the basics of every job on set. When you understand what your collaborators do, you can communicate with clarity and respect—and that builds trust.

Most importantly, when you find a passion project, never let the passion fizzle. Filmmaking is so hard it will often feel insurmountable. But if the story fuels you endlessly, you’ll push through the challenges, and each obstacle will make you stronger and more confident.

And finally—go to the movies. Support indie films in their first weekend! Go to festivals. Find your tribe. This is a long road, but it’s one you’re not meant to walk alone.

Anything else you’d like to share or add? 

I just want to take a moment to thank LALIFF, and Edward James Olmos for creating the Latino Film Institute and investing in the future of Latinos in film. I am forever grateful to Axel Caballero for his faith and support throughout the years—from my time as a WarnerMedia 150 Artist with the 150 Foundation to now, with his leadership at LFI. The LFI Works-in-Progress fellowship gave me and so many others the opportunity to move our films forward, and programs like these are vital. Their cuts are deeply felt within the artistic community, and they remind us how much we must continue to champion and protect these spaces for storytellers.

I also want to thank my producers—Leslie Cohen, Adrienne Acevedo Lovette, Eddie Frente, and Debbie Esko-Gold—and my cinematographer, Dustin Ward, whose artistry and commitment carried this vision forward. A special thank you as well to Victor Elizalde and the Viva teamfor believing in me and in the power of this film.

And finally, my deepest gratitude to Edwin Vázquez, who allowed me to use his original music as the voice of Manny—my father’s music—in Brownsville Bred. My dad passed away when I was a teenager, but through Edwin’s incredible songs, and Javier Muñoz’s stirring portrayal, his artistry lives on in this film.

To all my actors, my family, and every collaborator who stood by me on this journey—Brownsville Bred exists because of you.

Follow @BrownsvilleBred on Instagram and Visit
www.BrownsvilleBred.com to get the latest info on screenings.