We were lucky to catch up with Arnon Shorr recently and have shared our conversation below.

Arnon, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today We’d love to hear about a project that you’ve worked on that’s meant a lot to you.

As Jewish American Heritage Month kicks off every year, I get an opportunity to reflect on a pair of personal milestones. On May 1, 2022, my first graphic novel was published by Kar-Ben Publishing. And on May 2, 2017, the short film on which it was based premiered at the Los Angeles Jewish Film Festival.
The world that I first explored in “The Pirate Captain Toledano” is a relatively obscure and poorly documented corner of American Jewish history. Jewish refugees from the Spanish Inquisition who fled to the sea, took to piracy as a means of survival, and plundered the ships of their oppressors in the earliest days of the colonization of the Americas.
When I wrote and directed the short film, my primary interest was in demonstrating that an overtly Jewish story could also be fun, compelling and mainstream. Not long before I made “Toledano”, a sci-fi feature film project of mine fell apart after I refused to make it “less Jewish”. The concern was that a story (even a fun action-adventure like that one) would not appeal to audiences if it featured Jews who actually practiced their Judaism in a substantive way.
So I made a pirate film where, in a pivotal moment, a grizzled swashbuckling adventurer recites the Friday night Kiddush.
And it worked.
The film went on to screen at over fifty film festivals all over the world. In fact, as I mark the eighth anniversary of its premiere, “The Pirate Captain Toledano” is scheduled to screen at yet another film festival. (So if you’re anywhere near Bisbee, Arizona, check it out at the Royale Film Festival on Friday, May 30.)
This has always been part of the American Dream for Jews. The “New” world offered a tantalizing hope that here would be a place where Jews could engage freely with the world without losing the core of their Jewish identity. It has been a flawed and bumpy journey, full of assimilation, occasional waves of persecution, and (as one might expect from a bunch of folks who brought you things like the Talmud) a ton of argument about what that “core” really is.
When the graphic novel was published in 2022, the film had already been around for five years. In that time, I got to see not only how my very Jewish story could play successfully to non-Jewish audiences, but also how it resonated with fellow Members of the Tribe.
I’m a bit of a Jewish mutt, made up of a mix of backgrounds and heritage and religiosity. So, initially, I didn’t give much thought to the fact that my characters were Sephardi – part of a large, and often overlooked branch of the greater Jewish tradition that hails (back in the day) from Spain and North Africa. But as the film made its rounds, I would get messages of gratitude from fans who were so moved to finally see Sephardic characters like themselves represented on the big screen. That’s when I began to notice just how narrowly Hollywood defines and depicts Jews.
So, with the book, and with nearly everything I’ve worked on since then, I’ve tried to break the long-established mold of Jews in popular media. My screenplays include a Jewish western (that isn’t an ironic comedy) and a supernatural adventure with an Ethiopian Jewish protagonist. My subsequent comic books feature Jewish adventurers of all types, shapes and colors, including Israeli characters (who aren’t just dropped in to offer some commentary about “the situation”), and that “too Jewish” sci-fi feature? I re-wrote it and self-published it as my first novel. This, to me, is part of what it means to be a storyteller who is both Jewish and American. It’s about finding innovative ways to celebrate an identity and share it with the world without diluting it or limiting it to its most basic, familiar tropes.
As I look forward to sharing more of my stories with you, I’m happy to look back and feel some pride at the stories I’ve already told.
With gratitude to the many, many people who helped make them happen, happy birthday to “The Pirate Captain Toledano” and to “José and the Pirate Captain Toledano”! Here’s to many more years of Jewish adventure!

Arnon, 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?

I’m a writer/director and author of high-concept, character-driven adventures and thrillers, where heroes grapple with the extraordinary, and in doing so, learn important truths about themselves.​

I spent most of my childhood between worlds: a Hebrew speaker in America, a private school kid with no money, a suburbanite in a rented apartment. Whenever I’d set foot in one world, my other foot would betray me as different. For that reason, I tell stories that embrace the peculiar, where encounters with the strange reveal who we are.​

And those stories seem to be resonating: My films have captivated audiences at film festivals around the globe. My screenplays placed in dozens of contests. And my award-winning books, comics and graphic novels continue to redefine Jewish narrative entertainment.

​I am always looking to expand my team, forge new partnerships, and once again elevate difference on the page and the screen.

Is there mission driving your creative journey?

Although I didn’t know it for the first decade of my filmmaking career, I’m particularly animated by and passionate about telling Jewish stories.

Oddly enough, I used to think exactly the opposite. Just after college, as I was anxiously trying to figure out how to begin to build a filmmaking career, a friend of mine suggested that I should bring my cultural, national and religious identity into my work. “Make Jewish movies”, he said. And I said “absolutely not!” At the time (we’re talking early ’00s) the vast majority of “Jewish” movies were either dour Holocaust films, films about antisemitism, or wry comedies about secular New York Jews of eastern European ancestry with anxiety issues. I wanted to make movies like “Jurassic Park.”

It took me a long time to begin to realize that I had fallen into the same trap that Hollywood had fallen into. Specifically, I didn’t stop to imagine the full range of Jewish stories that could be told on screen. It wasn’t until several years later that I had my first Jewish filmmaking experience.

This was back when the “48 Hour Film Challenge” was all the rage. Of course, since those contests always run on weekends, I’d be limited to 23 hours – my traditional Sabbath observance preventing me from using the rest of the available time. So when I heard about a new contest, “The Jewish Film Challenge”, which ran from Saturday night to Friday afternoon, I jumped at the opportunity to compete.

Similar to the other contests, the JFC provided filmmakers with three “elements” that they had to incorporate into their work. These elements, of course, had an explicitly Jewish flavor. To compete, I /had/ to make a Jewish movie.

The short film that I made, about an elderly Jewish woman who has forgotten that her husband had recently died, incorporated all of the required elements of the contest, but there were no Nazis, no persecution, no wry and comedic New Yorkers with Eastern European ancestry and anxiety issues. Somehow, I managed to make a Jewish movie that simply didn’t fit that era’s mold of what a Jewish movie should be.

And I won the competition with that film.

That project set me on a course to explore a very wide range of Jewish narratives, culminating, in 2017, with a short film called “The Pirate Captain Toledano”.

“Toledano” is set in the world of Jewish pirates in the 16th century Caribbean. Yes! There really were Jewish pirates at that time – but they were very different than any pirates I had ever seen depicted on screen. First of all, they were refugees. Jews who had fled the Iberian Peninsula at the start of the Spanish Inquisition. They took to the high seas to escape, and took to piracy as a means of survival. And second: When these pirates plundered ships, theses ships were usually Spanish ships. Ships that were paid for with wealth that Spain plundered from its Jewish community. There was a vigilantism to Jewish piracy that provided an entirely new flavor to the well-loved pirate genre.

As I made and released that film, I discovered two things.

First, I heard from many people who saw the film that they appreciated this different depiction of Jews on screen. These were not Eastern European Jews. The Holocaust was not part of the story. No one in the film is a doctor or a lawyer or an entertainment industry person. No one is named “Greenberg” or “Goldberg”… In particular, Jews who are themselves descended from Spanish refugees were particularly appreciative to see a piece of their identity finally depicted in a film.

Second, I discovered that while we (Jews) hadn’t really spent much time telling the stories of these pirates, I didn’t have to dive too far into the Google rabbit hole to find antisemitic bloggers using the history to justify their hatred of Jews. It was a startling realization, and my first conclusion from it was, “if we don’t tell our stories, they will distort them.”

Fortunately, “The Pirate Captain Toledano” did really well, screening at over fifty film festivals all over the world. It led me to begin a vigorous exploration of diverse Jewish stories that has come to define my career.

I wrote screenplays that include a Jewish supernatural western (no, not a wry comedy!) and an adventure featuring an Ethiopian Israeli protagonist. I also branched out into comic books and graphic novels, where I had the opportunity to expand the palette of Jewish representation even further. (The first of these graphic novels was actually an expansion on the story told in “The Pirate Captain Toledano.” That book, “José and the Pirate Captain Toledano” debuted exactly five years (minus one day) after the short film’s premiere.)

My foray into comics led me to an opportunity to speak on panels at the legendary Comic Con in San Diego. On one of those panels, I introduced an idea that has come to define much of my work. I call it the “monster in the closet” theory of antisemitism.

It’s like this: Imagine you’re a kid in a bedroom at night. Maybe there’s a nightlight shining in a corner, but the rest of the room is dark. That closet door is open a bit, and inside, it’s absolutely pitch black. Inky, visceral darkness. When you’re a kid in that situation, what do you do? What do you imagine in that seemingly endless void? If you’re like me, you imagine monsters.

This is a natural human instinct. When we encounter a void, we project our fears into it. In healthy circumstances, this keeps us alert to potential threats. But that lizard brain of ours doesn’t always know to differentiate between a dark cave where bears might lurk and a dark closet that holds nothing scarier than some ill-fitting clothes.

It doesn’t help that when we’re kids, we encounter stories about monsters all the time. So we KNOW that monsters are a thing… we’re primed to project them into our room’s dark corners.

To my mind, it’s like this in the real world, too. Jews are a tiny fraction of the world’s population. Something like half a percent. In the US, we’re a whopping two percent, mostly clumped in a few big cities. This means that most people have never met anyone Jewish, or if they have, it was only in passing, not with much depth.

So, how do people know about us at all? For the most part, it’s from the media that we all consume. Watch those crime dramas, and you’re bound to see a Jewish lawyer named Goldberg or Greenberg pop up sooner or later. Hollywood’s narrow view of Jews isn’t necessarily false. There are Jews who are secular New Yorkers with anxiety issues. But it’s like that night light in that kid’s room – it shines a light on only a small corner of the Jewish world, a small piece of who we are.

The rest of Judaism’s rich tapestry of cultures, backgrounds, traditions… most people don’t even know it exists. But, if pressed, I imagine most people would suspect we must be more than just what’s depicted on TV. Just like a kid knows there’s something in that closet, even though it’s impossible to see through the darkness, people know – intuitively – that there’s more to Jewishness.

But they can’t see it.

So what do people do when they can’t see through the darkness? They imagine monsters.

Once I realized this, I felt a particular urgency begin to drive my storytelling. Now, I’m not just an entertainer (though I insist on entertaining – it’s a necessary component of what I do), I’m also working to shine more light on more corners of the Jewish world.

As I write this, Jewish American Heritage Month has just begun. It’s also the eighth anniversary of the premiere of “The Pirate Captain Toledano”, and the third “book birthday” of “José and the Pirate Captain Toledano”. My wish is that we all find ways to use the energy and goodwill of this month to turn more attention onto a broader, more diverse array of Jewish stories. To shine light into more corners of the Jewish world. To show us in our full, human dimensionality, so that people will no longer find the need to imagine monsters in the dark.

In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?

Ultimately, in order for artists to continue creating art, they need to not be so worried about feeding, housing or clothing themselves. This means that when you can, you should pay for the art that you consume. Pay for it directly, where possible. Ad revenue barely reaches creatives.

And if you have the means, create funds, grants, and other mechanisms to invest in creators – particularly early-career creators – so that they can get their work going.

If you’re not able to spend in these ways, it still helps if you find ways to amplify your favorite creators and their work. Social media is one way to do it, but also calling libraries and asking them to order an author’s books, or posting a review of an indie film on its Amazon listing – these are all valuable ways in which you can help boost a creator’s profile and help them get the sales they need to turn their passion into a reliable living.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.arnonshorr.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/arnonshorr
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/arnonshorr
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/shorr
• Twitter: https://www.x.com/shorr
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/oxrockproductions
• Other: By Arnon’s books! www.tinyurl.com/shorrstore