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You may see them onstage during a Q&A or at an awards show speaking someone else’s words, yet you rarely learn their names. As Americans more readily embrace world cinema and non-English languages, The Envelope spoke with six interpreters about the complexities of a role that has become increasingly visible and valuable — and, for a change, turned the spotlight on their underappreciated work.
Anabella Tidona
Growing up in Argentina, Tidona never imagined she’d work in Hollywood. Moving to Los Angeles at 23, she initially served as a clinical interpreter and court interpreter. But then she was asked to assist Argentine actor Griselda Siciliani during the promotional campaign for Alejandro González Iñárritu’s 2022 dark comedy “Bardo.” Suddenly, she found herself onstage at the TCL Chinese Theatre.
“I think it seats a thousand people,” she recalls. “There’s very powerful lights. It’s packed. I’m not an actress, I’m not trained to be onstage.” But Tidona wasn’t nervous — she relished the experience. “I was like, ‘I’d love to do more of this — I think I’m good at it.’”
In subsequent years, she’s interpreted for directors like Rodrigo Moreno and the Oscar-nominated sound team from “Sirāt.” Before interpreting for film professionals, she had never been whisked to places like the Chateau Marmont. “It’s like you’re a fly on the wall, especially if you’re riding in the car with the talent,” says Tidona. “But you have to be invisible. Your job doesn’t begin until they start giving an interview. You’re just, literally, along for the ride. They let their guard down — they’re being their natural selves. But I am used to interpreting for big corporations, people that are in jail for homicide. So whatever happens, their secrets are safe with me.”
Sheida Dayani
This Oscar season, Dayani was a fixture alongside Jafar Panahi at Q&As and awards events. But their first meeting, on the way to the Telluride Film Festival, was a bit awkward.
“He was not in a good mood,” says Dayani, who received her PhD from NYU’s department of Middle Eastern and Islamic studies. “He did not know who I am. I don’t think he trusted that I could do the job right. It took some time for us.”
Luckily, Dayani had already interpreted for Iranian filmmakers Asghar Farhadi and Mohammad Rasoulof, and quickly earned Panahi’s respect. But because she worked so closely with him for months, and because both have family in Iran, it was hard not to get emotionally overwhelmed by the director’s harrowing stories of being tortured by the regime, which he mentioned frequently while promoting “It Was Just an Accident.”
“I’ve cried so many times with Panahi,” admits Dayani, who spoke to The Envelope about 12 hours before the United States began its attacks on Iran. “Putting all these words that I hear in first-person narrative — saying, ‘I was tortured, I was beaten’ — this really does affect you.”
Her first encounter with Panahi may have been strained, but in time they bonded while absorbing constant terrible news from Iran. “He has been a great source of comfort. I feel very lucky that we are on the same political spectrum. He has been such a strong presence [by] just being there.”
Vincent (Tzu-Wen) Cheng
Born and raised in Taiwan, Cheng is the former chair of the speech, communication and theatre arts department at Borough of Manhattan Community College. His parents wanted him to be a lawyer, but he was drawn to language and the arts. And once he started interpreting for filmmakers, he was hooked.
“I enjoy exploring the arts and cultural scenes in New York City,” he says. “I felt that maybe this is something I can do to help out the filmmakers from Taiwan and China.” Cheng started volunteering as an interpreter at local cultural institutions. Soon, he was working with revered figures such as Hou Hsiao-hsien, Jia Zhangke and Bi Gan.
“He’s such a private person,” Cheng says of Bi, whom he’s known since the director’s first feature, 2015’s “Kaili Blues.” “I understand that this is something that is not natural to him — to really talk about his process and be so open about what’s in his head. It is a process of helping him get comfortable — it’s getting him out of his shell.”
Being the onstage voice of esteemed auteurs is a privilege Cheng takes seriously, especially when a director’s fans come up to him.
“I was at Cannes,” Cheng recalls. “Someone tapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Are you the interpreter for Jia Zhangke? I recognize your voice. For me, you are Jia Zhangke.’ People recognize me, not because of me. I was very flattered, but I also understand the responsibility. This is beyond just interpretation — I see myself as his spokesperson.”
Nicholas Elliott
Sometimes, the best way to demonstrate your interpreter bona fides is by getting along with a filmmaker who’s notorious for being difficult. Such is the case with Elliott, a former correspondent for Cahiers du Cinéma, who got a call in 2010.
“I was living in New York. I was mostly working in theater and as a print translator,” he recalls. “But I had friends in film, and I was known as a guy who speaks [French and English]. And for some reason, they couldn’t find an interpreter for Claude Lanzmann. They brought me in with literally no interpreting experience to interpret for Claude for three or four days.”
The late director of the monumental Holocaust documentary “Shoah” had been famously combative with journalists. “All I know is that my experience with him was very positive,” Elliott says. “I met every publicist in the New York art-house ecosystem, and they all were like, ‘Whoa, this guy can deal with Claude, and Claude likes him!’ It’s not like the next day I was the go-to interpreter, but it led to other jobs.”
Since then, Elliott has interpreted for French icons such as Claire Denis and Jacques Audiard. He considers his work to be comparable to a performance.
“I’ve never considered myself a professional actor, but I’ve acted a fair amount,” Elliott says. “Interpreting has a lot of qualities of performing in a play. What I think is really key is an absolute attention to the moment. It’s being present. It’s absolute focus and presence.”
Monika Uchiyama
“A lot of people go into [interpreting] because they love language,” says Uchiyama, a visual artist based in Tokyo and New York. “I just really like people. I’m a very social person.”
Uchiyama, who has interpreted for Japanese directors such as Ryusuke Hamaguchi, used to think she had stage fright — even though she once fronted a punk band.
“I was in my early 20s, late teens, and I would just get really drunk and perform,” she says, laughing. “I didn’t make the connection that it had to do with my confidence level. So when I began interpreting, it became clear that interpreting is such a flow-state activity. You’re not spending time thinking about yourself — you’re so focused on what the person is saying and your note-taking, and then deciphering your own notes, that there’s no room for nervousness.”
Uchiyama, who loved Japanese horror when she was young, now relishes the opportunity to work with genre masters like Kiyoshi Kurosawa. For this photographer and video artist, interpreting is just another form of art-making.
“That desire to collaborate connects to interpretation,” she explains. “What makes it fun for me is that I get to know filmmakers and their process. I get to be in the middle of this exciting moment, which is where an audience or a moderator asking the question really engages in someone’s art. I appreciate it so much from an artist’s perspective.”
Jack Jason
Marlee Matlin recently celebrated 40 years of working with Jack Jason, her ASL interpreter who is also her producing partner. Jason, who grew up with Deaf parents, lived in the Bay Area as a coordinator of interpreter services when he was asked in 1986 to interpret for Matlin, who would be appearing with boyfriend William Hurt at the Oscars for his lead actor nomination for “Kiss of the Spider Woman.” The following year, she and Jason returned to the ceremony, where she won lead actress for “Children of a Lesser God.” Matlin went to the podium, while Jason stood out of frame, microphone in hand, to interpret for her.
“It was very emotional for me, having Deaf parents and seeing a Deaf person win an Oscar,” Jason recalls. “You can hear a bit of my voice cracking.”
Unlike spoken-language interpreters, ASL interpreters speak concurrently with their client’s signing, creating unique challenges. (“[The interpreting] has to be fast,” explains Jason. “It can’t be delayed.”) Prominently featured in the 2025 documentary “Marlee Matlin: Not Alone Anymore,” he is among the most well-known interpreters, tirelessly advocating alongside Matlin for the Deaf community. For decades, his voice has been associated with the actor, producer and director. All these years later, he still finds that dynamic fascinating and amusing.
“If Marlee’s doing an interview live on the red carpet, it’s almost as if I’m being interviewed, but I’m not being interviewed. At the same time, because we have such a long relationship together, people have a tendency to want to turn to me and say, ‘Hi, Jack.’ And Marlee’s joking, ‘Hey, wait a minute, I’m the Oscar winner!’”
