Connect
To Top

Life, Values & Legacy: Our Chat with Zhanerke Koilybayeva of Los Angeles

We’re looking forward to introducing you to Zhanerke Koilybayeva. Check out our conversation below.

Zhanerke, a huge thanks to you for investing the time to share your wisdom with those who are seeking it. We think it’s so important for us to share stories with our neighbors, friends and community because knowledge multiples when we share with each other. Let’s jump in: What battle are you avoiding?
For me recently was difficult pre production of the film I am shooting soon. It is called Fragile. Fragile follows the intersecting lives of several people whose inner worlds are breaking under invisible weight. At its heart is Amira, a quietly intense woman navigating the aftermath of betrayal, creative failure, and the pull between independence and belonging. As she reconnects with her estranged family and a lover from her past, she finds herself trapped between illusion and reality — questioning what it truly means to be strong in a world where every bond can shatter.

Through poetic imagery and restrained dialogue, Fragile explores the delicate balance between strength and sensitivity, the beauty of imperfection, and the small, human moments that make survival possible.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name is Zhanerke Koilybayeva, and I’m a writer, filmmaker, and creative producer passionate about telling emotionally honest stories that connect local identity with universal themes. I’m originally from Kazakhstan, and much of my work explores the fragility of human relationships, identity, and belonging — often through strong, complex female characters.

My current project is a feature film called Fragile, a drama about vulnerability and strength, set against the backdrop of modern Kazakhstan. I’m also developing web series and short films that blend cinematic storytelling with digital culture — experimenting with how stories live in today’s hybrid creative world.

What makes my work special is that it stands at the crossroads between East and West — I draw from Kazakh culture, folklore, and landscapes, but approach storytelling with an international, contemporary lens. My goal is to create films that feel both deeply personal and globally resonant.

Appreciate your sharing that. Let’s talk about your life, growing up and some of topics and learnings around that. What’s a moment that really shaped how you see the world?
The moment that shaped me was when I realized that silence can tell a story just as powerfully as words. I was on a small film set in Kazakhstan, watching two actors improvise a scene — nothing spectacular was happening, yet something raw and truthful appeared between them. That was when I understood that filmmaking isn’t about perfection, it’s about capturing truth. Since then, I’ve been drawn to the fragile, invisible emotions that define who we are.

Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
Of course, there were moments when I felt like giving up (every morning, hahaha, joking)— filmmaking can be unpredictable and emotionally draining. There were times when projects fell apart, funding didn’t come through, or I questioned my own voice. But every time I thought about quitting, something inside reminded me that storytelling is not just what I do — it’s who I am. So even when I pause, I always return to it with a new perspective and deeper clarity.

Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. What are the biggest lies your industry tells itself?
The biggest lie is that art needs to be perfect. In truth, perfection kills emotion. The industry polishes everything — faces, stories, endings — until there’s no life left. But audiences don’t want perfection; they want truth. And truth is always messy, raw, and beautifully imperfect.

Okay, we’ve made it essentially to the end. One last question before you go. If you retired tomorrow, what would your customers miss most?
If I disappeared tomorrow, I think people would miss the kind of emotional honesty that Fragile represents — that quiet space where vulnerability and strength coexist. My work doesn’t try to impress; it tries to feel. I think my audience would miss the way I capture the invisible — the unspoken emotions, the fragile moments between people that usually go unnoticed.

Fragile is more than a film to me; it’s a reflection of a worldview — that softness is not weakness, and that brokenness can be beautiful. If I weren’t here to tell those stories, maybe that small voice — the one that reminds people to be human, to be tender — would be a little quieter.

Contact Info:

Suggest a Story: VoyageLA is built on recommendations from the community; it’s how we uncover hidden gems, so if you or someone you know deserves recognition please let us know here.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

More in local stories