Her films are more than stories—they’re symbolic journeys. Cat Weiss on turning philosophy into cinema and cinema into myth.
Cat Weiss’s work feels less like filmmaking and more like opening a doorway—into a world where myth, music, and mysticism are alive and speaking directly to the soul. The Australian-American filmmaker, writer, vocalist, and astrologer has built her career on blurring the line between scholarship and art, creating films that are as thought-provoking as they are visually striking.
Her acclaimed series, Revolt Against the Modern World, reimagines Julius Evola’s seminal text with cinematic depth and symbolic imagery. Beyond the screen, Weiss is the female vocalist of the neo-folk project Überfolk, where she channels heritage and myth into haunting soundscapes. She has also narrated Evola’s Eros and the Mysteries of Love for Inner Traditions, adding yet another layer to her artistic voice.
In this conversation, she talks about the making of The Soul of Chivalry, the frustrations and breakthroughs of working with AI, and why reconnecting with myth still matters today.
Q1. As a filmmaker, how do you strike a balance between scholarly depth and artistic storytelling in your documentaries?
I’ve been fortunate in that I’ve never had to compromise between those two elements—they go hand in hand. Metaphysical ideas are best expressed through symbols, and symbols are wonderfully flexible. They let me explore concepts in creative ways without losing their essence, which is far more liberating than working with purely material subjects.
For me, everything begins with the script. I write it so that someone completely new to Evola’s ideas feels curious enough to dive deeper, while longtime students still find layers of meaning. Often, I’ll follow Evola’s footnotes, which open doors to myths, allegories, and historical details that bring the narrative alive.
Once the narration is ready, we focus on visuals. Sometimes inspiration comes instantly; other times, we experiment—closing our eyes, listening to the music, and letting images rise. That’s how every scene in The Soul of Chivalry ended up carrying symbolic weight, even if it’s only felt subconsciously by the viewer.
At the end of the day, our goal wasn’t popularity or profit—it was honesty. We wanted to stay true to the spirit of the ideas and create something that inspired us first. If audiences feel that spark too, that’s the greatest reward.
Q2. Can you share any particularly memorable or challenging moments during the making of The Soul of Chivalry—something that perhaps changed your perspective or approach?
The biggest challenge was adapting to AI tools, which were still in their infancy when we began production. The technology evolved so quickly that we often had to redo entire scenes because earlier attempts suddenly looked outdated. By the end, we had generated hundreds of thousands of variations for different scenes. It was tedious at times, and my perfectionist streak didn’t always help! But in the end, I believe those frustrations pushed the film to a higher level.
One of the most memorable parts, however, was creating the music video for our song The Flower Immortelle. Music is central to our work, and each film in the series has its own song that captures its spirit. This one was inspired by the Grail Quest and the symbol of the woman. From designing costumes to scouting filming locations and building props, it was a joy to bring that vision to life. That tactile, hands-on artistry remains one of my favorite aspects of filmmaking.
Q3. What role do film festivals play in supporting independent filmmakers today?
For any artist, sharing your work is as vital as creating it. Without an audience, the drive to create can diminish. Film festivals give independent filmmakers a space to showcase their work, to connect with viewers who might otherwise never encounter it. That exposure not only validates the effort but also fuels future creativity. In many ways, festivals help keep the spirit of independent filmmaking alive.
Q4. What message or feeling do you hope viewers take away from The Soul of Chivalry?
“I hope viewers walk away with a sense of both loss and possibility. Evola described the late Middle Ages as the final break with the “World of Tradition” in the West—a sobering thought that we wanted the film to capture.
In our earlier films, we often closed with a clear “prescription”—uplifting words and epic music pointing to what should be done. But this time, that didn’t feel right. Instead, we ended with imagery: glimpses of an idealized medieval world, at times blending into fantasy, set against a wistful yet hopeful song. It wasn’t about literal history—it was about sparking imagination, building a bridge between the real and the mythic.
Rather than giving answers, we extended an invitation: to reconnect with Myth. If viewers engage with it on a deeper level, I believe the wisdom of Sophia can touch them, lighting a fire within—a source of strength and inspiration to carry forward.”
