We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Alexa Lostaunau a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.
Alexa, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Let’s jump back to the first dollar you earned as a creative? What can you share with us about how it happened?
Thankfully, my first paid acting job came not long after graduating from the NY Theater Company 23′-24′ at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. It was for a project unlike anything I had ever imagined myself being a part of—but it was pure joy. The show, MAD MAD MAD, was directed by Michael Toomey and devised by the cast, director, and crew. We first developed it during my second term in the company year, and I was one of nine students chosen to be in this devised clown theater piece. Yes—clown.
Before we started creating, Michael Toomey had taught the entire company, clown, during an initial six-week training. Working with him and the cast was an eye-opening experience, showing me just how vulnerable and comfortable a creative space can be. Michael’s humanist approach to teaching and directing resonated deeply with me, and hearing him use the term “humanism” was the first time I truly understood how I think and what I believe in—people.
We devised and rehearsed MAD MAD MAD in just one month, right up until the last minute. Creating in general is a thrill, but doing it with a group of like-minded yet wildly different individuals—each with their own comedic strengths and weaknesses—was even more special. We performed three shows, and the audience, both from AADA and the general public, loved it. It was nerve-wracking to put up something so personal, built entirely from our own ideas and comedic instincts. But hearing the laughter, those knee-jerk reactions to references we had woven into the show, and even getting feedback on which clowns or scenes were people’s favorites—it was all so gratifying.
Our clowns weren’t just characters; they were extensions of ourselves, discovered through clown exercises in Michael’s class, wearing just a clown nose. Over time, we developed them by leaning into our natural off-balances. For me, that meant embracing my height—or lack thereof. I chose a long T-shirt down to my knees with knee-high socks, exaggerating the proportions. We explored how our clowns interacted with one another, often with minimal language, relying entirely on how we naturally played. Initially, Michael called me ‘Boston’ in class, but during MAD MAD MAD, I had to choose my clown name. I remembered my singing teacher once calling me “ballsy” after I chose ‘Don’t Rain on My Parade’ as a vocal demonstration. Naturally, I twisted it and dumbed it down—because stupid is golden in clown—and thus, Ballz was born. *cue explosions*
After graduation, many of us wanted to bring the show beyond AADA. From March to August, we worked to bring it to life once again. Eventually, from rehearsals to fundraising to even seeing our show on a billboard in Times Square, we made it happen! MAD MAD MAD had its off-off-Broadway run in Brooklyn at the Target Margin Theater, opening in early September and closing the second weekend.
Then, I got the Zelle payment! *holy singing* My first paycheck for doing something I love, for ultimately just being me! It felt surreal. And we couldn’t have done it without the help of our family, friends, and supporters who contributed to making the show a reality. The experience of developing and producing a show from the ground up showed me that in New York, anything really is possible.
Alexa, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?
Well, hi! My name is Alexa Lostaunau. I’m a Peruvian-American actor based in NYC, just starting my creative career. I’m originally from Boston, though if you took me there, it might take me a second to figure out all the must-see places. Almost a year ago, I graduated from the American Academy of Dramatic Arts after being part of their NY Theater Company. Before that, I spent two years at the school earning my Associate’s in Acting. Getting to study my passion in the city I’ve always dreamed of living in has been a blessing. I’m incredibly grateful that my parents have been supportive throughout—though, as two Hispanic immigrants striving to give their kids a better life, acting wasn’t exactly what they had in mind.
Before moving to New York, I hadn’t been in many productions. I didn’t know much about Boston’s theater scene, having only taken the occasional community college class or workshop here and there. My high school didn’t have a real theater department due to a lack of funding. There were a few scattered projects and elective classes, but nothing substantial until junior year when a wonderful teacher (who I believe mainly writes now) brought the program to life. Ms. Sarah Chaves. She had this ability to get even the most uninterested, obnoxious, or even outright disruptive kids to participate. Under her guidance, we put together a round of 10-minute plays mixed in with improv games for the school, where another student and I were the Emcees…I don’t recall any part of the show other than I might’ve done a glamorous outfit change.
In sophomore year, a friend and I had learned to perform the Dirty Dancing Dance at our talent show. Being able to accomplish such a performance feat really meant a lot to me. It was one of my first times feeling the exhilaration of performing for people on stage, making them cheer just to give them a great show. It was amazingly fun and fulfilling. That night my brother let me know that he got emotional, and my mom came to let me know how proud and how much she believes in me in being a performer. Anywho, we nailed it, the lift and everything. If there had been an award that night, we would’ve taken it.
As for what got me into acting… embarrassingly enough, it was Marvel movies. When I was 12, visiting Peru, my aunt put on The Avengers, and it was the first time I remember being aware of a movie in a way that intrigued me. This led me to watch every Marvel film I could online. That obsession expanded into all kinds of cinema. From Silver Linings Playbook to Goodfellas to Full Metal Jacket, I became enamored with film—fascinated by how actors embody someone else’s truth and connect to experiences they’ve never personally had.
When I was younger, I could never stick to just one hobby. I went from ballet to karate to gymnastics, then debate team, then JROTC—always moving on to the next thing. But acting was different. Once I found it, it became the one thing I kept coming back to. Sure, there was a moment when I thought about becoming a detective (thanks to too many SVU marathons with my mom), but in the end, it was always acting. When I first told my dad, he said I should be an accountant instead. I laughed. (Sorry, Dad {not sorry[sorry]})
But see, acting doesn’t have a straightforward path. There’s no single textbook that tells you how to make it. The industry has been overflowing with talent from all backgrounds for decades. No one knows exactly who will make it, how, or why. Sure, some folks have a little more leeway (achoo white men cough), but there’s no one way in.
That challenge sealed the deal for me.
Growing up Latina and unnoticeably neurodivergent, I often felt misunderstood by family or friends. Hey, who doesn’t! Just because I was and still am deeply emotional, over-imaginative, anxious, and a complete goofball. I didn’t really fit into a “normal little girl” category. And the more that strictness of rules was enforced in my household the more I didn’t like rules. Comedy became my way of pushing back, shaped by my family’s chaos and the challenge of making them laugh.
I act and create because I need to. Because nothing else brings me the same sense of joy and growth. You have to be a little crazy to stand in front of an audience and expose yourself with complete vulnerability. But that’s the magic—offering people a moment, a message, a reflection of their own lives.
I believe storytelling has the power to remind people they’re not alone. To make them feel seen. And to open others’ eyes to experiences beyond their own. That’s why I do this. That’s what sets me apart.
Is there mission driving your creative journey?
For me, it starts with my identity. Growing up, I didn’t see much of myself reflected in the media. The few times I did, it was usually through the lens of telenovelas or Peruvian channels, but even then, the Latinos on screen were often white Latinos. When Latino characters were portrayed, they were heavily stereotyped—spicy, exotic, and wearing red because they looked great in it. If you ask the average American to name five Latina women in Hollywood, they’ll probably say Salma Hayek, Penélope Cruz, Sofia Vergara, and… and umm. Maybe a good-spirited millennial would get 4. While the representation of Hispanic people in film and TV has certainly improved since the 2000s, there’s still a long way to go.
There’s been growth, especially with the shift in mindset from younger generations, which has pushed the industry to reflect more on diversity. It’s becoming clear that for most of film history, the screen has been dominated by one color of people. The industry is now opening up—not only in terms of ethnic diversity but also in recognizing the inequality women have faced in the workplace: mistreatment, blackmail, sexual harassment, etc. Because I and my peers are the next generation going into the industry, I would like to be a part of making it a more welcoming environment for all types of people. Race, ethnicity, sexuality, and all of the above.
Being the multifaceted and multilayered human I am, I have a lot of different parts of me I want to be represented in media. I want more of my Latino side shown, my Latino-American side. The side of me that’s crying at work and is looking for my Hydroxyzine. The side of me too scared to flirt with women yet. I want to see characters like me—characters so specific and personal that they’ll resonate with more people than we might expect. The specific is what feels the most personal and authentic.
My mission is to help ensure that Hispanic/Latina women, fill roles traditionally occupied by men in the entertainment industry—and Hollywood, in particular. I want to see us take up space in every corner of the industry, from behind the scenes to on-screen.
Yes, the call for diversity has been growing, especially in this “woke” era of media, with executives realizing that a diverse range of faces is what’s hip nowadays.
Personally, it’s not moving fast enough. I want as close to equality as I can get. That’s why my mission is bigger than just me. It’s for all Hispanic people, for women, for girls, and specifically for Latin-American and Peruvian communities.
In short, I’m doing this to help make space for all the parts of me that need to be seen—and to amplify voices like mine.
What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?
The most rewarding aspect is connecting with others and myself in a way that feels almost spiritual. It’s the magic of communicating something meaningful and having someone else say, “I get it.” There’s exhilaration in performing live, getting that perfect take, and always looking for ways to improve. It’s the deep analysis of human emotions and how they can inspire reactions within me and others. Preparing for that, researching the background of the character, and even researching myself—it’s all therapeutic. It’s being human, playing human, and learning from other humans. Ugh, what a life! What a love.
I love people. I know, it’s a bit of a secret, but I do. People are fascinating—what we do, why we do it, how we do it. I’m passionate about learning from others and their experiences, which is how I realized I’m such a focused listener. That’s also why I love acting: it’s all about listening. I also love to analyze, sometimes playing devil’s advocate to help others see a different perspective. The conversation, the camaraderie—it’s all part of creating something meaningful. That bond, that exchange, is rewarding. It creates memories and connects us.
The best parts are feeling alive through someone else’s experience and or spreading a message through a character that resonates with people. I’ve had the joy of making people laugh, which feels like part of my purpose. Providing that relief through laughter—giving people a break from the heaviness of life, letting them laugh at me and my ridiculousness, and laughing with them. Because with time, the pain will be funny.
What a reward.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://alexalostaunau.com
- Instagram: @alexalostaunau
Image Credits
Bronwen Sharp, OnDek Productions, Allison Winkel, Sherry Lin