We recently connected with Dadyar Vakili and have shared our conversation below.
Dadyar, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today We’d love to hear about when you first realized that you wanted to pursue a creative path professionally.
There wasn’t just one moment—it happened in stages, at different times and different ages in my life. As a child, I was raised by my grandmother, who would entertain me with stories and lore passed down through generations. That early storytelling sparked my imagination. I was always good at writing—essays, poetic prose, short stories—it came naturally.
In middle school, I developed a debilitating speech impediment. It made me quiet, withdrawn. But that changed when I started doing improv skits and school plays. Slowly, performing helped me find my voice again.
The penny dropped in high school. My best friend needed an actor for a play he wrote and planned to submit to a competition. I had acted before, but never thought much of it—I was focused on math and biology back then. I agreed to help him out. There was a scene where I had to flop to the ground, and after ten takes he gave up and called it a wrap. As a joke, I threw myself in the air and flopped dramatically—and he suddenly shouted, “That’s it! That’s what I want!”
That moment stuck with me—there was something deeply satisfying about embodying a character, demystifying it, learning its truth, and breathing life into someone else’s words. Suddenly, everything started aligning: my love of stories from childhood, my writing, my curiosity about people and their inner lives.
Later in university, when I hit a wall pursuing biology, my counselor asked me: “If you couldn’t fail—because if you put your whole self into something, you *can’t* fail—what would you do?” And without thinking, I said, “I would just tell stories” She just smiled.
That was my leap. I put aside the cultural taboos of my heritage and listened to what, deep down, I had always known. Being an artist isn’t really a choice. You feel it in your bones. You just know.
Dadyar, 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?
It wasn’t a straightforward journey. My path into the industry unfolded alongside a deeper journey of self-discovery—a parallel track that ultimately guided me toward embracing my calling as an artist. As an actor. As a writer.
I did theatre all throughout college, and I absolutely loved it. There’s something electric about being on stage—the instant connection with the audience, the synergy with your castmates, and the deep internal alignment with the character you’re portraying. It demands complete presence. In those moments, you’re not just performing—you’re living truthfully in someone else’s shoes, and that’s a feeling I’ve always chased.
Later, a few friends and I began creating short films together. It was trial by fire—we cut our teeth in 48-hour film competitions where we’d write, shoot, edit, and deliver a complete film in just two days. The experience was a crash course in filmmaking: we learned the value of pre-production, how to expect the unexpected, and how to pivot quickly when things go off script—because they always do. We learned how to tell stories that mattered, even on shoestring budgets, by relying on our grit, creativity, and authenticity. That foundation made us scrappy and resourceful, and it taught me how to make things happen.
Those skills led me to work as an Associate Producer on a narrative-based Animal Planet documentary series. Then, an opportunity came out of nowhere: an open audition for ‘The Last King’, the first official foreign-language adaptation of a Stephen King story. I gave it everything I had.
It felt like my break had finally arrived—but then the pandemic hit. Everything shut down. And when even the unthinkable happens, you start to wonder if maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. But just as I was about to give up, production resumed, and I found myself acting alongside people I had long admired. That project changed everything.
Since then, I’ve been in five major productions—and it’s only the beginning. Each role, each collaboration, each set has deepened my love for the craft and reinforced why I do what I do.
What I offer now spans acting for both stage and screen, screenwriting, voice work, and producing emotionally grounded, character-driven stories. My creative approach blends a poetic sensibility with a grounded, emotionally honest perspective, rooted in the realities of the average human experience. Whether I’m acting, writing, or producing, I approach each project with the same goal: to tell a story that feels ‘lived in’—something that resonates on a human level. I love stories that feel not only believable, but intimate—like the audience is being let into something real.
My work is informed by my background, by my love of poetry and language, by the years I’ve spent studying how people think, move, and speak. I care about every layer of the story—from the words on the page to the breath between them.
I’m most proud of the moments where I stayed with it—pushing forward through doubt and setbacks, and choosing the story. I’m proud of the artists I’ve grown alongside, the audiences I’ve reached, and the integrity I try to bring into every space I step into.
Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?
I believe resilience and creativity go hand in hand—resilience feels like a prerequisite for pursuing art as a career.
There was a time when I was juggling two jobs, attending school full-time, and stretching $26 over ten days between paychecks, struggling to make ends meet, mixing ketchup with hot water and pretending it’s tomato soup —all while running from audition to audition, eager to be part of any play that would have me. It was exhausting, but when you know it’s what you’re meant to do, nothing else matters. I just kept going.
Years later, on my first day working as a producer for an Animal Planet show — my first “real” gig — I received a call from my dad’s doctor: he had been diagnosed with stage 3 cancer. Balancing being a caretaker while trying to excel at my job became even more challenging when the COVID pandemic hit. Navigating through those obstacles was grueling, but I now look back at it all with great fondness—for the experiences, memories, and the fact that I got to see my dad beat cancer and recover fully.
I always joke that no sane person would choose to be an artist; it’s full of challenges, obstacles, and moments of doubt and setbacks—you do it because there’s an intrinsic need to. As if doing anything else seems absurd. With that, the resilience builds naturally, like an ebb and flow.
Is there a particular goal or mission driving your creative journey?
As an actor, I aim to be someone who “always understands the assignment”—a reliable performer who brings the truth of a story to screen and stage as honestly, authentically, and without judgment as possible. I also want to challenge myself by taking on a wide range of roles, discovering my own range, and living new experiences vicariously through the characters I embody.
As a writer, I aim to tell tales that resonate with people’s hearts, offering stories that inspire reflection or evoke emotions they might not often explore.
All in all, my goal is to create art that is honest, accessible, and heartfelt—in essence, human.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: dadyarvakili
- Other: https://imdb.me/dadyar
