|
|
Written by Eric Ding | Edited by Anna Maria Folsom, Elisa Lau, Ashley Diaz, and Lawrence Folsom  It’s a daunting situation to be an animation student graduating from college, knowing that the industry currently demands many entry-level positions to have years of studio experience. Students at San Jose State University in the Animation & Illustration program have decided to take their careers in their own hands and teamed up for a senior capstone project developing a video game demo completely from scratch. Forming a team comes with its own challenges of building workflows and organizing team members to focus on a shared goal. Within the course of a year, the Nightland team has built out a project that has strengthened both their new and existing skills. 
The game demo features the main character, Piper, who is forced to return to her hometown of Delphi Falls after losing her job. She finds it has been consumed by a shadowy fog, with nightmarish creatures lurking around every corner. However, she discovers the Fae, Frim of the Fire, and Lindle of the Frost: her imaginary friends manifested through childhood mementos. Piper is able to harness their powers and to take back her home and uncover the truth of how “Nightland” came to be. Piper faces her past traumas along the way, and learns to heal from it.  Concept Art and Ability Icons for Lindle of the Frost (left) by Adan Duenas, and Frim of the Fire by Le Nguyen The Director and Story Artist of Nightland, Allie Laufman, initially gained the idea for Nightland through a dream her brother, Matthew, had. Years later, Allie would bring this idea into a more focused production via her senior capstone project at SJSU. She gathered a team of her friends and classmates, and the Nightland team was created.  Nightland Opening Sequence Storyboard Panel. Illustrated by Allie Laufman, Director and Story Artist Developing a project of this scale is complicated, from the top-down production and directorial level to the individual artist contributor. The team was organized by department. Major areas like Visual Development, 3D Animation, and 3D Modeling each had Project Leads assigned to manage the work. While alumni and faculty of San Jose State University were also there to provide support, everyone on the team still had the same challenges: learning how to communicate effectively with their peers, while simultaneously having to handle their own obstacles and personal coursework that are unique to each team member. So how was this team able to delegate responsibilities, manage a successful Kickstarter campaign, and produce a fully designed and developed video game demo all within two semesters of work?
Initially, the game was planned to be in a 2.5D style with 2D animated assets in a 3D world. Realizing that their skills and careers were geared towards 3D art, the 2.5D idea was developed into a fully 3D game. This allowed each team member to work on both what they were good at, and what they wanted to learn. One of those artists is Jun Ilas. They were primarily a visual development artist specializing in creature design before joining the Nightland team. Though Jun’s main focus was to further develop their skills in 3D. Allie understood their creature design background, and strongly encouraged Jun to contribute to the visual development department as well.
 Model sheet for one of Nightland’s enemies, Blitzburrow. Illustrated by Jun Ilas, 3D Modeler. Enemies can also be designed with the prowess of 3D in mind. The complexity of redrawing every frame is replaced by rigged bodyparts, so the Nightland team could design Spotsight, a creature with a dynamic moving tail.  Model sheet for one of Nightland’s enemies, SpotSight. Illustrated by Adan Dueñas, Visdev Artist. Alongside the shift of 2.5D to 3D, came another instance of creative redirection of multiple enemies. One of them, Dragster, is an enemy that pulls the player character toward itself to attack. It was one of the first enemies designed in 2D, and originally would unhinge its jaw and move towards the player to grab them. The team found that in practice it was a logistical nightmare to code and animate the original concept, so they pivoted to a shooting tongue.  Side-by-side comparison for one of Nightland’s enemies, Dragster. Concept versus in-game demo version. Illustrated by Antony Huynh, Visdev Artist. Modeled by Jacquelyn Galbraith, 3D Modeler. Rigged by Nico Snow, Technical Director. As with any project, deadlines will close in and resources such as time and budget will run low. This is an ultimate test to any team’s ability to critically evaluate and problem-solve the issues ahead. Jasmine talks about how having a system that categorized tasks and ideas by priority was critical to avoid scope creep. Tasks were ranked by “bare minimum”, “kind of possible, but we’ll see”, and “stretch goal”. The system helped the team focus on completing fundamental components and kept the project on track. It was very important to keep in mind that nobody can output 120% throughout the entirety of the project. Pacing work properly and keeping steady productivity was much more efficient and more importantly, healthy.  Another way to balance the heavy workload was to dedicate days to specific assignments. Grace Maguire, 3D Animator on the project, explains how she would timebox classwork into one day before focusing on a completely different project the next day. Additionally, “days solely dedicated to rest” were equally important. Having these assigned separations reduced the mental load of keeping track of multiple projects at once, minimizing stress while strengthening the focus on each task. While a team of thirteen core members and thirteen volunteers is not small by indie standards, it is still a tight-knit team. Ideas are shared freely, and everyone has a say in the project. Programming Lead Kia Anooshirvani highlighted a specific advantage to this organization when he predicted a game system from the visual and narrative concepts. He set up the code infrastructure of the game to have a modifiable interaction system. This prediction allowed for future creative decisions, such as elemental reactions, to be implemented later in production without major revisions to the game’s existing code.
 Meet the Core Nightland Team - Members (left to right), First row: Le Nguyen, Angelica Ota, Jun Ilas, Jasmine Serna, Emma Haramaki, Adan Dueñas Second Row: Antony Huynh, Tristan Melewicz, Kia Anooshirvani, Allie Laufman, Nico Snow, Jacquelyn Galbraith, Grace Maguire This project shows that an organized and integrated team, no matter the size, can be a place for growth and development. In a world where expertise is expected, artists can create their own professional practices that can rival any studio setting. A portfolio doesn’t need a large company name to prove its worth. Artists only need to show a talent for collaboration, production, and visual communication, all of which are found in the Nightland Team. The full demo is now available for free on the Nightland team’s personal page on the indie game platform, Itch.io! Their passion has not gone away and this demo is only the beginning for Allie and her team. She advocates that Nightland will always live on, whether it be through further development of this game or even other future projects. The Nightland game, and its world, have grown from a dream to a harmony of ideas thanks to an amazing team of hard-working creatives.
Link to Itch Demo Page: https://nightlandrpg.itch.io/nightland Written by Raphael Cardenas and Haram Kim | Edited by Raphael Cardenas Within the past few years, there has been a notable shift in Asian representation in Western film and TV productions. In particular, animation has enabled creators to tell nuanced stories of multifaceted characters from the Asian American community. Here are five recent animated works that offer fresh, dynamic takes on Asian American representation. From intimate family gatherings and neighborhood store vibes to broader themes of prejudice and grief, these stories capture the many angles of the diaspora’s experience. HIDDEN HISTORY BEHIND PAPER LIVESPaper’s Daughter (2026)  Directed by Cami Kwan, Paper’s Daughter is an independent stop-motion short following a tale of a young Chinese woman who puts on a ‘paper-mask’ to enter the United States through Angel Island. In the trailer, a hazy shot of San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge fades from black, following a tense interrogation with the question: “Why did you want to come to America?" In the early 1900s, many Chinese immigrants had to hide behind a forged identity in order to bypass the discriminatory Chinese Exclusion Act. The animation brings light to their stories, using the materiality of paper as a recurring motif to portray the main character’s ‘paper-life’ INSIDE A BRONX BODEGAAlma’s Way (2021 - Cont.)  Alma’s Way is a PBS Kids TV series that shines for its fun lessons from everyday experiences, featuring unique, diverse perspectives inspired by the real South Bronx. For example, many bodegas from the area are owned by Bengali immigrants, and the show pays tribute to this fact by showcasing Rafia’s family and their store in Season 2, Episode 24. Viewers that come from a South Asian immigrant background can feel familiar to Rafia’s Dad’s accent and recognize the hefty bags of lentils and rice inside the family bodega. And it wouldn’t be a New York bodega if there isn’t a bodega cat inside their store! The visible representation of Bengali flags decorated inside the store verifies and brings attention to their heritage, which is important as Bengali representation is seldom to be found in American media. In addition, Alma’s Way depicts the characters as larger-than-life, rather than a caricature based on their background. We see this when Alma and Rafia play ‘deliver-day games’ with Rafia’s family, capturing the bodega as a place of warmth, play, and community rather than a stereotypical backdrop. A MEMOIR OF EMOTIONSIn Waves (2026)  Adapted from the 2019 graphic novel by Filipino-American artist AJ Dungo and helmed by director Phuong Mai Nguyen, In Waves is a modern story of love and loss, tied together through the art of surfing. Much of the narrative shows AJ himself recounting not just the final years spent with his partner, Kristen, but all the emotions he experienced through them—laughs, tears, and all. AJ’s openness in retelling the story is a welcome contrast from the practice of keeping face, a common aspect in various Asian cultures. In particular, Filipino culture has the concept of “hiya” (shame), which values modesty and discourages potentially dishonourable behaviour—including the expression of sadness and anger. Yet overall, the story shows AJ recognize how he feels and openly conveys them through the narrative. Viewers see a shy high school kid who—in director Nguyen’s words—learns how to live, thanks to his relationship with Kristen. The result is a character arc about coming to terms with emotions—which, in a story centered on an Asian protagonist, is important to showcase. A SUPERHERO’S DINNERInvincible (2021- Cont.)  In Season 4, Episode 5 of Invincible, Debbie (Mark’s mother) hosts a family dinner that features a classic Korean meal. In the scene, you can see small plates of banchan, such as kimchi and braised lotus roots, served with rice. This meal is a subtle nod to Mark and Debbie’s heritage. Other cultural hints placed in the show are composed through props in the house, such as the wooden Mandarin ducks symbolizing Mark’s parents’ marital status. Although the characters’ backgrounds have not been explicitly confirmed in the show, their race is further reinforced through their voice actors, Steven Yeun and Sandra Oh, who are of Korean descent. Furthermore, by not having Mark’s superpowers be tied to his Asian ancestry, Invincible normalizes Asian-American representation in the superhero genre. Mark’s Asian heritage is not played up in the show, and certainly not treated as having the same plot relevance as his Viltrumite side. PART OF SOMETHING BIGHoppers (2026)  Hoppers follows Mabel Tanaka, a spunky, outspoken Japanese-American girl with a deep care for animals—so much so that she’s willing to put herself in trouble for them. In the beginning, when Mabel's brash attempt to rescue her school’s classroom pets doesn’t go well, the adults in her life focus on criticizing her actions. However, Grandma Tanaka takes time to guide her to a special sit-down place outside in the woods. Here, the portrayal of their close relationship is a refreshing sight. Story-wise, Grandma Tanaka’s presence is the dose of empathy that Mabel needs. No shaming. No passed-down generational trauma. The depiction of their relationship lowers the barrier of how Asian parental-figure and child relationships can be seen in film. In addition, the film’s understated approach to Asian-American representation is continually reflected when Mabel inherits her grandma’s Forest Ranger jacket, with its name badge displaying their surname ‘Tanaka’. This small detail is significant as it connects their name to a field that’s not considered a traditional career pathway for many Asian households, such as engineering or medicine.
When I joined Asians in Animation, I connected with industry professionals who helped artists and gave advice about future careers. They are friendly and supportive of Asian artists who want to break into or advance their careers in the animation industry. My goal is to break into the animation industry in North America and build a career as a Storyboard Artist. Storyboarding allows exploration and improvement of the story by experimenting with compositions, cinematography, and character movements. Moreover, it is to give voice to the visual sequence for the intended audience, whether it is about the comedic scene or a character’s emotional moments. It’s a great way to introduce the main protagonist’s story and development throughout the sequence. As an artist, it allows me to try something different from a creative standpoint, and I would love to be part of the community that inspires stories.  My project, “Shahrazad,” is based on the character from the literature “One Thousand and One Nights”, also known as “The Arabian Nights.” This collection of Middle Eastern, South Asian, and North African folktales is set in the Islamic Golden Age. Shahrazad is the main character of my project and she is known as the legendary heroine in the Arabian Nights. While her original story has a darker tone, involving trauma and mature themes, I made her a light-hearted, strong protagonist with a fun personality and focused on saving the kingdom.  For the storyboard sequence, I am experimenting with a character and story about a heroine from Middle Eastern folklore that would make the audience enjoy her personality and experience. Shahrazad is a quick-witted young woman who is also clumsy and believes she is clever enough to strategically influence any situation to her advantage. Her flaw is that she acts before fully thinking about things, which results in putting herself and others into risky situations. Audiences want female stories who act independently and are capable of saving people’s lives while learning some of their flaws and emotions. I enjoyed female characters more as inspiration than male characters because of better representation in their stories and development. Female-rising characters are role models and have stepped away from just being sidekicks or love interests, which then have them as the protagonists of their own story (Grove).  As a South Asian artist, I share stories from folklore, which express cultural representation at the surface level. To shift to the story value on the character, it's not about what we do but why it matters to us. I grew up watching female-led animated shows like The Powerpuff Girls and Kim Possible, which are action-packed and have strong storytelling. I felt that I wanted to create something similar since female stories are more interesting than male ones. What, in particular, about “Arabian Nights” drew me to pick it among all other folklore is that my work focuses on the heroine because of the potential character development, where she has to sneak into a palace to rescue a woman from the evil Sultan. I hope the audience will learn more about the main protagonist’s story and find connections between Middle Eastern and South Asian backgrounds in terms of humanity, emotions, and cultural values.  References Grove, Elliot. The Rise of Female Characters: Why It Matters More Than Ever. 30 December 2024. <https://raindance.org/the-rise-of-female-characters-why-it-matters-more-than-ever/>. Munaum Bilal is a Pakistani artist specializing in storyboarding. He studied arts and film as part of the Bachelor of Arts program at Marshall University and graduated in 2021. He worked as a Storyboard Artist at Moonshot Animations as well as a Graphic Designer Intern at SOC Films. His personal work focuses on telling stories about Middle Eastern and South Asian culture, folklore, and mythology. Follow Munaum Bilal's works on Linktree: https://linktr.ee/moonstoryartist
Written by Andrew Frastaci | Edited by Anna Folsom and Elisa Lau The COVID-19 pandemic was hard on many of our Asian diasporic neighborhoods, and Little Tokyo in Los Angeles was no exception. The 140+ year old section of Downtown LA that served as the lifelong connection to my Japanese heritage had lost at least 20 businesses [1] during the first year of the pandemic. Born and raised in LA, Little Tokyo was my nearest J-Town, the anchorpoint of much of my ethnic identity. Grocery trips with my family, birthdays at Kouraku (now recognized as America’s oldest operating ramen shop), awkward first dates, and so many more formative memories belonged in Little Tokyo, but these sites of my memories were quickly being pasted over with “For Lease” signs. Like so many across the global Asian community, I felt helpless to stop it.  A digital painting (2023) of the bathroom at Suehiro Cafe, a 50+ year-old Little Tokyo late-night spot evicted at the end of 2023 [2] and relocated to 4th & Main St. As headline after headline announced the closures of community institutions I grew up with, I was also navigating a pivot, completing my degree in architecture while trying to break into a career in background design in animation. Quarantined alone and indoors, I stumbled through online courses, Google Maps StreetView, and any image reference I could get my hands on. Having spent formative time in architecture school studios, I could never make the full adjustment. The tools available online were endless, yet I craved an in-person learning environment. Restricted to reference images to study from and lacking the opportunities to experience a place with my own body, my learning was painstakingly slow and I grew more frustrated. Just as my efforts to improve at my art felt hollow, so did my attempts to support Little Tokyo: How could drawing in my room get me to truly improve as an artist? And how could a college student’s budget possibly save my favorite neighborhood restaurant? -- These questions still linger as the years pass since the initial lockdowns in the United States. Los Angeles County declared the end of our local public health emergency for COVID-19 in Spring 2023, and despite my desperation to get out and see my city, it took some rewiring to embrace the urban outdoors again. I’ve since graduated from school, but looking back at early lockdown sketches, they lack the perspective depth and detail that real-life references now provide me. You’ll find Little Tokyo packed with people on the weekends, but the scars from the early days of the pandemic still run deep. Despite the crowds, rents are higher than ever and many businesses are still operating on the brink [3]. We all probably feel as if the animation industry is just as dire, and working on my environment-drawing skills has personally felt futile at times. There’s only been one remedy to this doom and gloom I’ve found to be effective: finding ways to practice my art inside the neighborhoods I want to see thriving. The practice of plein air needs no introduction: what better way to hone your sense of color, perspective, and proportion than to capture a scene outdoors on location? Dedicating time to plein air and urban sketching has greatly improved my practice as a background designer, making me more decisive as a result of the speed and discomfort brought on by plein air. Nothing trained the “Ctrl+Z” habit out of me faster than working with pen and paper, feeling the sun beat down on me as I try to capture a scene before a bus blocks my view or a crowd moves away.  The original Giant Robot store in Sawtelle, West LA’s Japantown. The benefits plein air provides you don’t have to end there, however. Where you choose to do your painting or sketching is just as important as the act itself, and it's in this decision that you can make the most impact. Choose a place relevant to your heritage, whether it’s an immigrant-founded small business or a local cornerstone in the heart of a city, and choose to hone your skills there. You’ll find, as I have, that spending a day drawing in a neighborhood like Little Tokyo brings you a deeper sense of connection to it than previously experienced. The slowness of urban sketching and plein air brings out the invisible threads holding these places together into the light. Intense focus on the same spot for a period of time shows you the circulation and DNA of a neighborhood: you’ll pick up on the deliverymen moving in and out of restaurants, the walking patterns of a local elder, the confused expressions of a tourist family. You’ll leave a plain-looking storefront with an intimate knowledge of each brick, crack in the plaster, and poster in the window. It’s a wonderful sensation, as if you’ve just bathed in the history of a small yet essential part of your community’s history. Sit down and buy a coffee, a lunch, a trinket, and take your time to observe. These community cornerstones stay alive through lifelong, loyal customers—try and strike up a conversation with an employee or owner. If you post your sketching day on social media, tag the business! These relationships built, dollars spent, and awareness spread about the small businesses that matter to your community all serve to keep our neighborhoods alive. My role in the animation pipeline is to craft environments, but no matter what part you play, we all work in service to a story. The most resonant narratives in our medium are rooted in lived experience, so why not tailor our methods of practice in the most personal ways possible? I have Little Tokyo - you have Chinatown, Busan, Manila, Jakarta, any place foundational to you that needs your presence to recover from this past decade. Dig deep into these spaces and try to capture their spirit on paper, and while you’re at it, keep them in business. You’ll find that the next time you’re searching for a reference for a project, you’ll find something inside your memory a lot more powerful than whatever Google Images can provide. Sources and Future Reading
To Our Reader: If Andrew’s journey into the streets of Little Tokyo resonated with you, we invite you to join us this April for the AIA Plein Air Challenge. Whether it’s the facade of an Asian-owned small business or simply a quiet moment with an egg tart at your local park, help us map the diverse textures of the Asian experience. Use the hashtag #AIAenPleinAir to share your work with the community. Update: May 15, 2026
While the official challenge has wrapped up, we invite you to explore our latest social posts for highlights from the AIA En Plein Air. We still encourage artists to share their work using #AIAEnPleinAir, and we hope you’ll join us for our next community challenge. Interviewed and Written by Haram Kim | Edited by Elisa Lau & Sherry Liang 
The Groundwork: A Story About HopeLooking back, Amina recalls the “a-ha” moment when the vision for her student film, ‘Ümit’, finally clicked: Amina: "I tend to brainstorm by sketching ideas in my sketchbook. At one point, I kept drawing Central Asian girls on horses, in yurts, as warriors. It reminded me a lot of Mulan, and I liked that. But I started thinking: What if I went a different direction? Instead of making her a warrior, what if she was a scientist? I sketched a scene where a traditionally nomadic yurt was filled with telescopes, books, and scientific tools. The character was looking at the stars through a telescope. It felt like a sacred, intellectual space in a small village. That sketch sparked the whole idea.”  ‘Ümit’ Early Story Beat by Amina Umirzhanova A SCAD animation student at the time, Amina kept working on the story which later grew to become the center for her senior thesis film project. Limited to a 30-week deadline, Amina needed a plan. And so, Amina pitched her idea around campus where she would establish the film's core team of 10 people, with additional collaborators who lent support along the way.  'ÜMIT' Core Team (top row from left to right): Lauren Danielson, Jialin Fan, Lucia Naples, Amina Umirzhanova, Farzeen Anam, Vaibhav Mathur; (bottom row left to right) Chiu Yi, Paloma Poggione Biondi, Hoi Ching Ng, Renato Dominguez Together, the ‘Ümit’ team worked to build a story that could resonate across all cultures. That’s when they leaned into the concept of hope. Amina: “The name of the protagonist is also called ‘Ümit’, which means ‘hope’ in Kazakh. When Ümit shares her ideas to bring back the Sun, she sparks hope over what feels like a dark and somber space.” As director, Amina focused on reviewing daily progress, making final decisions, and steering the overall direction. During the early pre-production phase for ‘Ümit’, Amina often drew inspiration from Kazakh poems. Amina: “One example came from a Kazakh poem called ‘Śakirt Oyi / Шәкірт Ойы / Thoughts of a Student by Sultanmakhmut Toraygirov’. This poem shared themes about the dark sky and the sun, with youth that invoked feelings of hope and the future.”  'ÜMIT' Early Ideation, ink on paper and "Śakirt Oyi" by S.Toraygirov “ ‘UMIT’ is essentially a love letter to my heritage.” - Amina Umirzhanova (Director) Amina: “The sun became the perfect metaphor: this unreachable, almost mythical source of light and possibility. We imagined a world where people had never seen the sun. Life was hard, but to them, that was just normal.” With the sun boldly displayed in the Kazakh flag, one could assume that the story is based on an existing Kazakh folktale. But actually, it’s not – the idea bloomed organically from a combination of Amina’s personal interests: Central Asian culture, history, and astronomy. Amina: “Central Asia is often represented through nomadic imagery, which is beautiful, but I noticed the scientific side of the culture, especially during the 15th-century Timurid Renaissance, was rarely depicted in modern media. The visuals from that period – Islamic art, ancient sciences, and nomadic life – all blend together so beautifully. I realized I hadn’t seen anything like that represented in animation, so I wanted to tell a story that embraced all of those elements.” Memories of A Sunless WorldThe film Ümit is set in a terrain ravaged by winter storms, and that cold is no stranger to Amina. Before flying to the states for college, Amina spent her last years in Kazakhstan’s capital, Astana, which is considered the second coldest capital in the world. Amina: “You'd have to wear leggings, then leggings over those leggings, and then pants, and then extra layers, coats, and the biggest puffy coat – usually very long. I remember on the coldest days, you could go outside and feel frostbite on your face right away.” These lived experiences, unique to Amina, served as a compass in capturing the right feeling for the film.  'ÜMIT' storyboard Central Asian Patterns, Yurts, and MagicFrom ornate Kazakh patterns to the structure of traditional yurts, Amina and her team researched and worked diligently to compose a visual language that expressed the tribe’s identity and the story’s magic. Amina: “Central Asian patterns are usually distinct, but we used ones with a lot of swirls and curved qualities. Some patterns were symbolic and referenced the sun. And, even if not explicitly visible, it’s still a part of their cultural identity and history."  Early designs for a magical pattern inspired by Central Asian ornaments and sun motifs Instead of adding patterns on clothes – which would make 2D animation more tedious – the team decided to focus the patterns mostly in the sets. Amina: “For our set, our biggest inspiration was Cartoon Saloon movies because we really liked how they incorporated patterns into their environments. We decided to do the same by overlapping various carpets and materials that have Central-Asian-inspired patterns into the interior of the yurts.”  Ümit's yurt, designed by Chiu Yi In the film, only two yurts are central to the story. The first is the town hall yurt, where villagers gather to eat in the dark. In contrast, Ümit’s personal yurt – her sacred workspace – was where viewers can feel warmth from the lit oil lamps and the textile surroundings. Amina: “We also referenced historical Islamic astronomy charts for the papers pasted around her workspace. These were often drawn in dark red ink, mapping planetary systems in Arabic and ancient Turkic scripts – a nod to the character’s inherited knowledge.”  Still shot, Ümit and Kids building the drum in her yurt. Animation - Hanna Wang (with additional help), Comp - Hoi Ching Ng, Background - Chiu Yi and Farzeen Anam Amina and her team encountered a problem: how will Ümit build the magical drum? They found the perfect solution: a yurt! With the help of the other young villagers, Ümit sacrifices her yurt to build the drum that will help bring back the Sun. Amina: “Historically, yurts are built from a mix of animal hide and woven textiles, layered for insulation. Their round structure is designed to withstand harsh winds. And in Kazakh culture, the rope that wraps around the yurt’s frame symbolizes family prosperity.” Perhaps the true magic lies not in the drum itself, but in the cultural ties and spirit woven into the textiles and materials.  Film-still, a magical power gets blasted from the drum in the snowy steppes. FX anim - Jialin Fan and Amina Umirzhanova, Comp - Paloma Poggione Biondi, Background - Farzeen Anam ‘Ümit’: Director’s Hope Amina: “I hope that ÜMIT's story would inspire artists from not only Central Asia but other underrepresented communities around the globe to tell their authentic stories.” The film is aimed to be released to the public in the Spring of 2027. Watch the trailer here: A big thank you to Amina for sharing the behind-the-scenes of ‘Ümit’ with the AIA community. You can learn more about the film at @umit.shortfilm and follow Amina @yoominori on Instagram.  |
