Marta Pozzan – From Milan’s Fashion Scene to Independent Cinema

In LA they’d call it manifesting, but more simply put it’s intention and drive. “It doesn’t happen right away,” she says. “But if I see something in my mind, it usually means I’m moving toward it.”

That sense of intention is particularly noticeable in the way Pozzan speaks about the industry around her. Unlike many young actors navigating the current landscape, she seems largely unimpressed by the metrics that dominate contemporary celebrity culture.

“Brands are chasing the wrong things,” she says bluntly. “Visibility doesn’t equal value.”

Social media numbers, she argues, are often mistaken for cultural relevance. They indicate reach, certainly — but not necessarily taste, intelligence or creative depth.

“A balanced campaign would have both,” she says. “Someone very visible and someone more niche. They bring different things.”

It’s a perspective that reflects Pozzan’s own position between worlds. She exists comfortably inside fashion’s visual culture — she dresses with theatrical precision, often swinging between sharply tailored masculinity and overt femininity — but she’s equally aware of the limits of image-driven visibility.

“Sometimes the fashion world can be very surface-level,” she says. “If you want to be truthful as an actor, you have to go deeper than that.”

Recent projects suggest that depth is exactly where she’s heading. Pozzan just wrapped work on a comedic thriller alongside actor and writer Nava Mau, part of an ensemble cast that also includes Stephen Lang and Piper Curda. The film is expected to release later this year. Around the same time she also completed work on a horror feature titled White Sands, a genre pivot she seems to have enjoyed. She’s also dipped her toe in comedy, producing and acting in a movie that showed at Tribeca, featuring Julia Fox.

“I like exploring different worlds,” she says. “Thriller, horror — they’re fun because they force you to find something new.”

Still, the type of project she seems most drawn to is something quieter and more grounded. “I like realistic storytelling,” she says. “Things that feel human and a little raw.” When asked about dream collaborators, she answers immediately: filmmaker Sean Baker, whose work capturing lives on the edges of American culture has become a touchstone for contemporary independent cinema. “I want to be in a Sean Baker film,” she says simply.

She laughs when she adds her other casting fantasy.

“And Willem Dafoe should play my father,” she says. “Let’s just put that out there.”

Fashion, meanwhile, remains part of her visual vocabulary — less as spectacle and more as character work. Pozzan describes the process of dressing almost like preparing for a role, each outfit suggesting a slightly different version of herself.

“I think about who the girl is going to be that night,” she says.

Her instinct tends toward extremes. One evening might lean sharply masculine — oversized tailoring, strong shoulders, austere lines — another hyper-feminine. What rarely interests her is the middle ground.

“I like extremes,” she says. “Very minimal or very revealing.”

Designers whose work balances structure and sensuality tend to resonate most. She describes IRO’s tailoring as particularly appealing because it allows that duality to exist at once — clothing that looks deliberate but still moves easily through everyday life.

“It feels like it’s made for someone who actually has things to do,” she says. “Not someone just posing.”

Despite living in Los Angeles, Pozzan retains a distinctly European instinct toward dressing for occasions.

“If you invite me somewhere, I’m going to dress up,” she says with a shrug. “Why wouldn’t you?”

That same clarity of intention appears when she talks about the future. Asked what longevity means to her now, she answers quickly.

“Power,” she says.

Then she clarifies what she means. Not power in the traditional Hollywood sense, but the ability to define one’s own creative identity — to become known for something specific rather than simply being everywhere.

“I want people to recognise what I do,” she says. “The more specific you get, the better.”

Actors who build careers through their own creative projects particularly interest her — performers like Eva Victor or Rachel Sennott, whose work blurs the line between acting, writing and producing. The appeal is obvious.

“It means you’re not waiting for someone else to understand you,” she says.

In Pozzan’s ideal version of the next few years, those roles begin to merge more fully. She speaks openly about the script she’s written and her plans to direct and star in her own film, alongside the possibility of a longer television role that would allow her to inhabit a character over time. A film of her own. A television series. A more clearly defined place within independent cinema. The blueprint, in other words, is already there. Toward the end of our conversation I ask if there’s anything people might not realise about her — something she wishes was more visible. She pauses for a moment, then smiles. “I’m actually really funny,” she says.

“I just need to show that more.”

Marta Pozzan may have spent much of her public life navigating the expectations placed on beautiful women within visual culture. Now the emphasis is shifting — from image to authorship, from visibility to definition, from pick-me energy to something closer to poise.

The difference is that this time she’s writing the script.