INTERVIEW WITH AMIR COLE, SCREENWRITER OF OPERATION VENDETTA

Dear Amir, it’s a pleasure to welcome you. We congratulate you on your exceptional achievement during the December 2025 edition, where you were honored in three categories: Best Action Script, Best Feature Script, and Best Screenwriter of the Future. Your work, Operation Vendetta, captivated our jury with its rare balance of raw tension and psychological depth. Let’s dive into the creative core of this project.

Every great script begins with a single image or a haunting question. What was the starting point for Operation Vendetta, and how much of your own personal journey or observations of the world is reflected in Jayden’s struggle for identity?

Early in my military career, I was trained the way most soldiers are — follow orders, execute the mission, don’t question the command structure. But as I grew in that world, I realized something important: not every order is a good order, and some absolutely deserve to be questioned.That realization became the starting point for Operation Vendetta.
I kept asking myself a simple but haunting question: What happens when the most disciplined soldier in the room realizes the order he’s been given is wrong?In the story, the order to eliminate Carmen becomes that moment for Jayden. It forces him to confront Alejandro’s true motives and ultimately question everything he thought he was fighting for.
That moment is really where the story begins — not with the action, but with Jayden’s identity starting to fracture.

The narrative quickly shifts from the relentless efficiency of “Ghost” to unearthing Jayden—the broken man behind the soldier. How did you approach this duality to ensure that the trauma of Isabella and Ciera wasn’t merely a narrative engine for revenge, but a ghostly presence haunting every tactical decision he makes?

Jayden was never motivated by revenge. When Isabella and Ciera died, Jayden essentially stopped existing. That was the moment Ghost was born. Ghost carries that trauma because he knows the loss was tied to his own decision to lead that unit. In his mind, his choice set everything in motion. So instead of seeking revenge, he buries himself deeper into the mission. What interested me as a writer was exploring how that kind of loss doesn’t just motivate a character—it reshapes them. Every tactical decision Ghost makes comes from someone who believes he already lost everything. In many ways he’s not fighting for victory anymore; he’s operating as the ghost of the man he used to be.

A major moral pivot in the script occurs when Jayden refuses to execute Carmen, despite direct orders from Alejandro. Through this gesture, you examine the line where military obedience becomes a betrayal of oneself. For you, is this screenplay primarily a quest for justice, or an internal struggle to reclaim one’s own honor?

Even after losing Isabella and Ciera and becoming Ghost, Jayden is still, at his core, a man of principle. He may have done questionable things during that period, but killing a little girl who posed no threat was a line he simply would not cross. Throughout his time as Ghost, he carried the trauma of losing his family, but he never faced a physical reminder of that loss until he encountered Carmen. In that moment, the mission stopped being just another operation. Carmen forced him to confront what he had become.For me, the story isn’t really about justice. It’s about a man reclaiming the last piece of his honor before he loses himself completely.

 The relationship between Jayden and Janae adds a universal dimension to the story, culminating when Jayden calls her “daughter” in the midst of chaos. Was it essential for you that Jayden’s redemption come through the protection of a new generation, turning a mission of destruction into a symbolic act of survival?

The relationship between Jayden and Janae was always about survival at the beginning. When Jayden defies Alejandro and saves her, he essentially puts both of their lives in danger. From that moment on, they’re forced to rely on each other just to stay alive. Over time, while hiding her, training her, and protecting her, that relationship of survival slowly becomes something deeper. It turns into a bond of family. They become the only family each other has left. So by the time the chaos unfolds and Jayden calls her “daughter,” it’s not just a symbolic moment—it’s the truth of what they’ve become to one another. And just before that moment, Janae calls him “dad.” That exchange shows that somewhere along the way, their fight for survival turned into something worth living for again.

In the Lion’s Den sequence, the action becomes almost a conversation between Jayden and Janae. How do you approach the choreography of violence to ensure that every movement reflects the evolution of an emotional bond rather than simply serving as a display of force?

When two people have trained together for as long as Jayden and Janae have, they eventually become synced. They understand each other’s instincts, their trigger points, and how the other person moves under pressure. That synchronization becomes part of the storytelling. Jayden knows Janae’s tendencies, and she knows his. We hint at that earlier when he catches her punch during the fight with the two female Spartans. That moment shows he understands her completely—even in chaos. So when it comes to choreographing their action together, I approach it almost like a dance.

When Jayden moves high, Janae moves low. When he shifts left, she shifts right. Their movements complement each other because they’ve spent years surviving and training side by side. In the Lion’s Den sequence especially, their fighting becomes a form of communication. At one point Jayden looks at her and says nothing, but she immediately understands what he’s asking her to do. She answers that look with one of her own—almost like saying I love you—before leaving. That moment shows that their bond goes far beyond combat. It’s trust.

Receiving three prestigious awards at the World Film Festival in Cannes is a significant milestone. As an American writer receiving this international recognition, how has this moment impacted your vision for the future? Do you see yourself stepping behind the camera soon, and what kind of stories are you now hungry to tell?

I am extremely honored and humbled to receive these three awards. Being recognized with the “Best Screenwriter of the Future” Award is by far the most humbling experience of them all. To be acknowledged among some of the best writers the world has to offer is something that words can barely describe. I’m incredibly grateful. This moment has inspired me to continue creating stories that resonate with people and evoke real emotion from an audience.

That has always been the goal for me as a storyteller. I absolutely aspire to step behind the camera one day. As a writer, you see the entire film in your mind while you’re creating it, and I would love the opportunity to bring that vision to life visually and share it with the world. There are many more stories coming. And who knows—maybe one day I’ll even figure out how to write a comedy. Most importantly, I hope that anyone reading this interview will be inspired to help bring this vision to the big screen so audiences everywhere can experience it.

Thank you.

What’s your vision of post-Covid cinema?

My vision of post-COVID cinema is the emergence of AI-assisted film production. We’re entering a new way of creating films — faster, more flexible, and less dependent on traditional barriers. I don’t see human actors being replaced, but I do see a shift in how films are developed, produced, and visualized. The tools will change, but storytelling and performance will remain human.

©2026