Whenever I had a free period at school, the first thing I would do was run to the vending machine and grab a bag of tropical skittles. The second thing I would do was open up my laptop, and binge watch every Vogue editorial video I could possibly fit into a 70-minute class period.
These videos transported me into the glamorous lives of Hollywood celebs, journeying through 24 hours of Shay Mitchell’s whirlwind day, or being incredibly jealous of Margot Robbie’s most iconic outfits. After I took my first film class, I started examining the end credits more carefully, and wondered who was behind the camera of these iconic moments of culture. If you pay close attention to your favorite Vogue videos, you’ll notice the name, too. Over and over again.
“Vivian Lau
Director of Photography”
You’ll also notice her name leading the credits in Goldenvoice’s Coachella Documentary, as well as Nike Nocta promotional content and Vanity Fair videos.
Curious to learn more about the woman behind the camera, I interviewed Lau. We met over zoom, where inside the 16 by nine frame she sat comfortably on her couch, beneath artfully draped green plastic vines. Behind her hung framed photos and art, featuring a poster from the Academy-Award winning thriller, Parasite, and a vintage style travel print in burnt-sienna hues from the fictional destination of “Ember Island from Avatar: The Last Airbender.”
Vivian Lau is a New York native but a Los Angeles transplant who completed her undergraduate degree at Boston’s Emerson College. Lau was born in Queens, New York, but moved to the suburbs of New Jersey in her formative years. She explained how her experience growing up in suburbia shaped her view as a storyteller.
“I think it’s a very unique experience that everyone who grew up in a suburb can identify with. So like, it’s unique, but also very common,” she said, her eyes lighting up as she began to describe the concept of suburban melancholy.
“That film was really my ode to suburban childhood, and suburban melancholia, which I only just discovered, that term suburban melancholia, a year ago, but I love it.” Lau shared excitedly, discussing her cinematography thesis film, “Blue,” a short film whose titular character, a little girl experiences a tragedy when one of her neighbors goes missing, set in the ideal child-safe neighborhood. “It kind of describes a lot of how I felt back then, which is that, you love where you came from … but I felt so trapped. So that was part of what I tried to bring to the camera work, [where] it’s all very still, like you are trapped.”
“Blue” depicts the universal experience of feeling safe as a child, until you’re not. It’s an candid and tragic depiction of the constraints of suburbia, and a loss of innocence, an experience that anyone who has ever felt trapped by where they live can attest to.
This thesis piece won Lau the LA Shorts Gold Cinematography Award and made her a finalist for the European Cinematography Awards. It also was officially selected by the Global University Film Awards.
“The main character, a little girl — she thinks she’s happy. She is happy. She doesn’t necessarily want for more, but what she has is what she gets. Because that’s being a kid. And through being stuck, you use your imagination a lot. You draw with chalk, you ride your bike with your neighbors, you make little videos with your stuffed animals,” Lau explained, her gaze softening a bit.
At this point in her career, with almost seven years experience in the film industry, the sense of meaning Lau found in “Blue” has become non-negotiable for her, as she is now more selective of the projects she chooses to collaborate on.
During our conversation, she lamented that in the early years of her career, she worked on any project offered to her, which drained her. She struggled finding the meaning in her projects, and connection to the story. “I kind of just shot them, almost like it felt sterile the way that I was shooting them, because I didn’t feel anything for them,” she commented, looking away.
When asked about the projects she chooses to work on, Lau said she doesn’t say yes prematurely anymore, especially on narrative type films as opposed to commercials or music videos. She remarks that narrative work is draining, but rewarding, so much so that she wouldn’t just do it for the money.
“You do it because you really believe in the story. You really think that this story should be made and that you want to hand it in.”
The same sense of purpose she strives for extends beyond the story itself to the people who help tell it. Vivian Lau approaches each project with care, making sure her crew is not only connected to the project but also safe and supported, values deeply imbued in her hiring philosophies. Lau is intentional about elevating women and women of color in the film industry, which is reflected in her crew.
“When I handpick my crews, I always try and hire as many women and people of color that are suited for the job. In an industry that is historically so white, it’s time for marginalized voices to be amplified,” Lau told Voyage LA in a July 2020 interview.
When asked about how different the experience is working with women and men on set, Lau used her experience working with a female key grip on her shoot that weekend as an example. She felt female crew members supported and anticipated needs better, saying, “…she was taking care of me. She knew that I was thinking, oh, I need that. Because she was thinking, if I were her, I would need that.”
Lau commented that finding mentorship and community within the film industry was incredibly rewarding. She values the support and encouragement she is given by her peers, and often looks to them for constructive criticism and validation. Another reason she sought out community and connection in the film industry was because finding other women like her made her feel like she had a place in the industry. Lau explained, “It’s hard to feel like you belong, that anyone wants you here.”
This commitment to fostering belonging, both for herself and others, defines who Vivian Lau is as a filmmaker. Lau serves as a remarkable example for how creatives of all fields should aspire to be by reflecting honesty and rawness in her craft, as well as in her approach to collaboration. She isn’t afraid to tell her own story through her work, knowing her own narrative carries more meaning than most, and has the kind of rare depth audiences crave. Beyond her projects, Lau resembles the type of collaborator the world needs more of: one who uplifts and elevates others. By making the people behind the scenes a priority, she both fosters inclusive environments and helps populate movie screens with more diverse stories from perspectives often overlooked. Lau’s story is a powerful reminder that meaningful storytelling requires more than a script and a camera: it requires connection, collaboration, and personal truth.
