Jonathan Rosado, cut from New York’s experimental music scene, has spent the last few years building an increasingly distinct filmography. At 28, he’s already made three feature films; Viridian Hue (2023), Brutalist Couture (2024), and now Matador Bolero (2026).
Shaped by Super 8 texture and the residual aesthetics of 1970s exploitation film, Rosado has carved out his own signature style. Beyond homage, he taps into a contemporary paranoia with his atmospheric abstraction of narrative. His latest film extends that trajectory, evoking the symbolic intensity of filmmakers like Jodorowsky and Russell while still remaining anchored in his own sensory logic.
Matador Bolero unfolds inside the mythic architecture of a New York City nightclub called The Matador. When the club becomes the scene of a high-profile murder, it attracts an unwanted crew of emissaries; an impassioned detective (Kansas Bowling), a cable TV newsman (Jack Irv), and an enigmatic figure existing outside conventional time (Yves Tumor). Their intersecting narratives bleed into the orbit of a new-age cult operating under the directive of an omniscient supercomputer known as Bolero.
I sat down with Jonathan ahead of the film’s NY premiere at Roxy Cinema.
Why did you want to make this movie?
I like to always be working on something, I started this film within two months after my last film premiered, which is pretty crazy. I was just kind of shooting random stuff, and had an intuition to start shooting again.
Was there a certain image or idea that came first? What was the first seed for this story?
I personally go about coming up with a story probably differently than a lot of other filmmakers. I’m not usually drawn to a story as the reason to make the film. I consider first the themes I’m trying to explore, and then make a story that conveniently or symbolically carries that to the first line. So for this, I was interested in the Age of Aquarius thing, man merging with machine. It’s sort of a current topic too, I suppose, with artificial intelligence and everything, and just made my own world around that.
Why did you choose a nightclub for the main setting? It felt like all the characters and the computer were all trying to take control of this one room. Is there a deeper meaning there?
Yeah, I will say the nightclub is symbolic. I don’t want to talk too much about what every single thing means because I feel like it’s a Pandora’s box. But I will say yes, it is symbolic. I guess I could say it’s just supposed to be representative of, or the equivalent to the jungle, the wildlife, or something like that.
It also gave the movie its modern aspect in a way. There’s obviously a ‘70s-esque visual style, but it still felt very in line with today’s world. I feel like a lot of movies that try to replicate the style of different eras don’t always pull it off, but there is a good balance here. The nightclub patrons, outfits, music, all really added to that.
Right, right. I certainly am inspired by films from the ’70s, but I will say that a lot of films that are inspired by the ’70s tend to want to be super derivative of that or kitschy. I’m not really interested in expressing any sort of nostalgia for the ’70s. To me, I look at shooting on film and that period of cinema as kind of a timeless classic period. So I’m just trying to bring an air of that back into modern indie films. It’s not about it being retro to me or anything like that. The concepts of the film are totally in discussion with current topics. Like you said, there’s definitely modern imagery. The star of the film is a modern musician, so I definitely wasn’t trying to make a throwback movie. I guess some of those aesthetics are just appealing to me because they just feel so timeless.
In the movie there’s a supercomputer called Bolero. Even as a viewer, you feel this quasi-religious pull into it. What interested you about giving this machine a kind of God-like spiritual authority?
I’ve always been interested in exploring sort of vaster concepts that can’t really be tied up in a movie, like ‘is there a god,’ for example. In terms of this film, what could we expect from artificial intelligence or man merging with machine? I like things that are lofty, that leave a lot of room to be explored, and that leave some room for audience interpretation. I want to comment on things that are happening right now, but at the same time, I’m not a huge fan of art that comments so literally or so is overtly concerned with the internet. I’d rather do it in a way that’s a bit more subtle.
You also scored the movie, with Nicolette [Wilkey] as The Suede Hello, is that right?
Yes.
Did the score come to you first, or did the visuals come first? How does that work in your process as a musician as well?
My background is in music. I never imagined becoming a filmmaker at all. Like when I say that, I’m so sincere. I did not imagine becoming a filmmaker at all. I only first bought a camera five years ago, and I’ve already shot three movies.
Which is kind of insane.
Yeah, definitely. I would consider myself a musician first. The Suede Hello is a collaboration between me and Nicolette. She’s also the executive producer on the movie. We’ve been dating and making music together for quite a few years, so it’s pretty comfortable. We usually make music before we even film anything, then all the way until the final edit, we’re still making music. Because, and you probably realize, watching the movie, sound is obviously very important to the atmosphere. I don’t score a film by watching the movie and playing to it, just from memory or the moods I’m trying to express.
Did the sound ever change throughout the process? Once you’re midway through the edit or even through filming. Does the musical identity of it change as the final product comes together?
I had some different ideas of what would go into it originally, I was expecting to have more doo-wop influenced music in it [laughs]. I don’t know why. That was just a thought I had early on that didn’t play out. I would say the soundtrack mostly sounds like seventies Tangerine Dream or Goblin or like the Suspiria soundtrack. It definitely evolved over time.
Speaking of music, Yves Tumor is making their acting debut in this film. How did that collaboration come to be?
Yves is awesome, I didn’t know him prior to this. I was talking with Nicolette because we had this part, and we really wanted someone who could deliver on it because it’s such an esoteric role. I don’t really think too many people could pull it off, and we had been fans of Yves’ music for years, but obviously we never thought he would actually agree to be in the film. It’s such a shot in the dark. But then we ended up pitching it to him, and he just took to it right away, to our amazement, and kind of went from there.
Wow, it never works out that way. Yves has such a strong and enigmatic, off-screen musical persona. What did that bring to the movie that a conventional actor couldn’t?
I think Yves has arguably the best image in modern music right now. I mean, he’s really tuned into image, but I could tell just from watching his videos and his performances live that he knows how to command an audience and that he would have an incredible screen presence. So it was really a no-brainer to me. If anything, I was more surprised that no one else had ever thought to put him in a movie.
I read that Jodorowsky’s The Holy Mountain was a big reference point for you. I had the same feeling in my body when I watched The Holy Mountain for the first time as when I watched your film. It’s that uncanny feeling, from the overload of symbolic imagery. Both films have this inaccessible quality where you’re have to give up trying to unpack meaning. What about that nonlinear, abstract storytelling style appeals to you?
I think it just appeals to me as an artist who is not necessarily primarily concerned with commercial appeal. I think there’s a stigma that exists in cinema that, for some reason, doesn’t exist in other mediums. For example, if you’re listening to a jazz record, like Pharaoh Sanders. You’re not gonna finish the song and think, “Oh, what did he mean by that?” But for some reason, with cinema, everyone needs it to have a literal meaning. And basically, be the equivalent of a mainstream pop song for it to make sense to them, which I’m kind of against, just from an artistic sense more than anything.
They got away with that a lot more in the past for sure. Maybe because there wasn’t a press cycle in the same way as we have now.
Yeah. When the invention of the photograph came out, no one cared to paint photos realistically anymore. You start to see more abstract thinking, and I feel like we’ve reached a point in movies that it would be almost arrogant of me to keep making the same type of conventional films. Like, how can I make a better exploration of female identity than John Cassavetes. A lot of the conventional ideas of a story have been done and done in my opinion basically perfectly. I’m really just trying to present something new.
Do you have a trend or style in contemporary filmmaking that you don’t like or try to avoid?
I would say that I’m against the idea that digital 6K HD filmmaking is considered the benchmark of professionalism right now. I don’t agree with that at all. And for some reason, that’s just the general assumption now. I guess I’m also just in conversation with other indie films happening right now, and I don’t really think it’s the most exciting time for indie films or films in general, which kind of sucks because technology is at an all-time high. It’s easier than ever to do things. So, yeah, I would say if anything, something along those lines.
In a way, you’re choosing the path with the most resistance. By shooting on Super 8 for one, and that your style doesn’t necessarily work for a lot of mainstream audiences. To me, that’s the most respectable part, because you’re making something that you feel comfortable with being misunderstood or misinterpreted instead of something easy to decode and accessible for everyone. That’s not even a question, just a compliment.
Thank you, thank you. I also think that, not to sound arrogant or anything, but I honestly think a lot of the time audiences don’t even really know what they want until you present them with something.
What do you hope that audiences feel after they watch your movie?
I hope they feel that I’m a great filmmaker [laughs].
Matador Bolero opens in New York on May 22 and Los Angeles on June 11, with a national expansion to follow.
