Kerry Mondragon is a bold new voice in independent cinema, known for blending raw emotional realism with surrealist flair. Raised between the deserts of northern Mexico and suburban California, Mondragon’s work draws deeply from a life of cultural dissonance, where wild poets, peyote roadmen, and saintly Mexican grandmothers collided with the pristine surfaces of Marin County privilege.
Kerry Mondragon is a bold new voice in independent cinema, known for blending raw emotional realism with surrealist flair. Raised between the deserts of northern Mexico and suburban California, Mondragon’s work draws deeply from a life of cultural dissonance, where wild poets, peyote roadmen, and saintly Mexican grandmothers collided with the pristine surfaces of Marin County privilege.
Kerry Mondragon is a bold new voice in independent cinema, known for blending raw emotional realism with surrealist flair. Raised between the deserts of northern Mexico and suburban California, Mondragon’s work draws deeply from a life of cultural dissonance, where wild poets, peyote roadmen, and saintly Mexican grandmothers collided with the pristine surfaces of Marin County privilege.
A self-taught writer-director, Mondragon began corresponding with Allen Ginsberg at age ten and later assisted Spike Lee on Da Sweet Blood of Jesus—an experience he considers his film school. His debut feature, Tyger Tyger (2021), a pandemic thriller written and shot a full year before COVID-19, was praised for its prophetic vision and unconventional storytelling. The film premiered theatrically and was named one of Seventeen Magazine’s “25 Best Movies of 2021.”
His sophomore feature, Wetiko (2024), a haunting exploration of generational trauma and spiritual hunger, was shot on 16mm film in the jungles of Mexico. It premiered at the Stockholm International Film Festival and was recently acquired by boutique distributor Dekanalog, which set a domestic theatrical release in 2026. With non-professional actors, hypnotic visuals, and a singular voice, Mondragon’s work continues to push cinematic boundaries.
In his third feature, Mascots, he steps further into the surreal, delivering a darkly comic odyssey through 1990s Americana—a tale of rebirth told in 35mm, absurdism, and human truth.
Gender
Male
