MARVAL REX + THE UPCOMING PSYCHOLOGICAL THRILLER ‘HOUSE OF ABRAHAM’

When we think and talk about trans futures, we love to imagine a livable future for trans people—futures where we don’t just survive but thrive and flourish. This optimistic vision challenges societal narratives that often confine the trans experience to a medicalized lens, positing that trans liberation or happiness is only achievable through a complete rejection of the past. Too frequently, our journeys are viewed through a reductive lens that suggests transformation exists solely in the future, contingent upon a series of prescribed benchmarks that define what it means to be “successful” as a trans individual. This narrow viewpoint can overshadow the rich, nuanced realities of being trans today and how those experiences shape authentic narratives and creative expressions.

Within this context of envisioning a hopeful trans future, Marval A. Rex emerges as a significant voice in the contemporary artistic landscape. As a Catalan-American actor, stand-up comedian, screenwriter, and professional astrologer, Marval Rex embodies the very complexity we seek to celebrate. His career is a dynamic fusion of artistry that navigates the diverse dimensions of trans identity, masculinity, and the human experience. Through his work, he not only strives to challenge societal misconceptions but actively creates spaces where trans stories can breathe, resonate, and flourish—revealing that the journey of trans existence encompasses more than just survival.

Rex’s artistic threads are expansive, with significant roles in noteworthy projects such as the Emmy-nominated Book of Queer on HBO Max and the upcoming psychological thriller House of Abraham, set to be released in June, alongside a wild, 70s-inspired screwball comedy, Airplane 2025. In these works, Rex delves into the complexities of identity and storytelling, touched by themes of hope and resilience. His commitment to portraying trans narratives authentically reflects a desire to engage in conversations that move beyond the confines of traditional expectations and societal pressures, thus reclaiming the narrative space for trans individuals.

With his foundational project, Big Dad Energy, Marval Rex has established a groundbreaking comedy night in Los Angeles that features exclusively transmasculine performers. This initiative disrupts the dominant comedic landscape, which all too often lacks representation and depth. His philosophy echoes throughout his creative process: “Being openly trans in this industry is like walking a tightrope while building the tightrope at the same time.” He acknowledges both the doors that open and the walls that rise within the industry. Marval Rex’s experiences reveal that while being trans can open up opportunities for unique storytelling, it can also lead to moments of rejection, often based on the limiting expectations of others.

“It forces me to be intentional about every project I say yes to,” he explains, pinpointing the necessity of alignment between his identity and his artistic choices. This intentionality is reflected in how he approaches each role and every stage he steps onto.

Amidst his many talents, Marval Rex has cultivated a rich practice as a predictive astrologer, connecting with clients across the globe and sharing insights through his weekly podcast, The World of Rex. His multifaceted career harmoniously intertwines elements of comedy, horror, and social critique to engage and entertain audiences, offering a deep exploration of the human experience.

Read below our exclusive interview with Marval Rex, where we will explore the significance of his films, particularly House of Abraham, and how he utilizes the genres of horror and comedy to demystify and illuminate complex themes. Marval Rex’s fearless approach to storytelling not only challenges societal norms but also invites us all to reflect on our own identities and connections. Welcome to the world of Marval Rex—a space where laughter meets introspection, and where fear is beautifully transformed into understanding:

As a transmasculine individual in the entertainment industry, how has your identity influenced your career? Discuss how being openly trans has shaped your opportunities and experiences in the entertainment field. Have there been moments where you felt your identity was either an advantage or a hindrance?

Being openly trans in this industry is like walking a tightrope while building the tightrope at the same time. There have been moments where being trans opened doors—people wanted my voice, my perspective. And there have been moments where it absolutely closed them. I’ve lost opportunities because I didn’t fit into a box someone already had in mind, or because they wanted a ‘safer,’ more sanitized version of transness. But honestly, it’s also been a gift: it forces me to be intentional about every project I say yes to. It’s made my work sharper, more specific, and it’s taught me to value the spaces where complexity, messiness, and contradiction are welcome—because that’s where real stories happen.

Can you share a moment in your journey that significantly shaped your understanding of self as a creator? Reflect on a specific experience or milestone that defined your identity as an artist and influenced your approach to storytelling or performance. How did this moment alter your perspective on your work?

A few years ago, I performed a piece called Marilyn Mon Rex, where I channeled several Old Hollywood archetypes, including Marilyn Monroe. It was a live work that happened at a public park as part of the City of Los Angeles Arts Council programming. The one caveat they gave me was that I couldn’t get naked. So I didn’t, but I got close. In the work, I channeled the grief I feel in Los Angeles: all the immigrants who work suffocating blue-collar jobs, the Indigenous folks who were displaced by the white man, the washed-up movie stars, and the invisible names of those who came to LA to pursue their dreams and failed. I did a ritualistic dance and burlesque routine, becoming each character until I finally put on the white dress and became Marilyn. I felt her pain then, like a tsunami. Her pain was so visible to the world it became archetypal, like the pain of a god. After I did that performance, several people came up to me and said, ‘You channeled something there. You went somewhere else but were also really holding space and presence.’ And that, I think, is the highest compliment because I see performers as vessels—vessels for the mysterious, the liminal, the sacred, the profane. After Marilyn Mon Rex, I was like: ‘I can do this. I can transform and become whatever I want, as long as I am ready to feel it all.’

What challenges have you faced in the industry, and how have you overcome them? Identify specific barriers, both systemic and personal, that you’ve encountered in your career. What strategies or support systems have you employed to navigate and confront these challenges?

One huge challenge is navigating an industry that still treats transness as a monolith or a marketing trend instead of a living, breathing part of a much more complex human experience. There’s a lot of tokenism dressed up as ‘inclusion.’ Early on, I dealt with being asked to ‘perform’ my identity for cis audiences in ways that felt exploitative. I also never ‘looked trans’ the way casting directors thought trans was supposed to look—cringe. I overcame a sense of feeling misunderstood and rejected by building my own spaces—writing my own material, collaborating with other hard-to-categorize artists, refusing to compromise my complexity for anyone else’s comfort. Therapy also helped. So did finding a small but fierce community of people who see me fully—not just as ‘the trans Jason Bateman’ but as an artist and human being, period

How do you use your platforms to advocate for trans rights and visibility? Elaborate on specific initiatives or campaigns you engage with. How do you strive to use your voice and visibility in the industry to foster greater acceptance and representation of trans narratives?

I’m a big believer that advocacy doesn’t always have to look like standing at a podium—sometimes it looks like making the art you wish you’d seen growing up. The early 2000s show The L Word literally saved my life. Like, art matters, people! I use my work to push the needle towards brave portraits of masculinity and transness that aren’t centered solely on trauma. I also try to amplify other trans creators whenever I can, whether that’s through collaborations, sharing resources, or just being vocal about who deserves a seat at the table. When I do have public-facing opportunities—panels, interviews, whatever—I try to use that space to push conversations deeper than ‘Trans 101.’ We deserve richer, weirder, more complex narratives.

What does connection mean to you in the context of your art and your identity? Discuss how your work aims to forge connections with diverse audiences. What do you hope people take away from their encounters with your art, and how do you envision these connections influencing societal attitudes?

Connection is everything. It’s the antidote to erasure. My work is ultimately about building bridges—not necessarily to explain myself to everyone but to show that even wildly different lives can resonate with each other in unexpected ways. I want people to leave an encounter with my art feeling a little less alone—or maybe a little more curious about lives beyond their own. I think art can sneak into places that arguments and politics sometimes can’t: it can soften people without them even realizing it. That’s the kind of revolution I want to be part of.

Are there specific initiatives or organizations you support that work towards LGBTQ+ rights? Highlight any groups or movements that you are passionate about. How do you contribute to these causes, and why are they personally meaningful to you?

Yes! I’m especially passionate about supporting organizations that center trans youth and BIPOC trans folks, like the ACLU, the Transgender Law Center, and Trans Lifeline. Mutual aid networks are also really important to me—they often move faster and with more care than larger nonprofits can. I try to contribute financially when I can, but also with time and visibility. Because it’s not enough to be visible; you have to make sure you’re holding the door open for the people coming up behind you and that you’re not the last stop on the ladder.

How do you hope to inspire younger trans artists through your work? Describe your thoughts on mentorship and representation. In what ways do you want to uplift emerging talent within the trans community, and what do you believe they need to succeed in today’s industry?

I want to show them that there’s no one ‘right’ way to be a trans artist. You don’t have to be inspirational, or palatable, or tragic to deserve to tell your story. I hope my work gives younger artists permission to be messy, to experiment, to fail spectacularly and keep going anyway. Mentorship matters to me because I wouldn’t be here without the artists who whispered ‘keep going’ when the world was too loud with ‘you can’t.’ If I can be even a fraction of that whisper for someone else, I’ll feel like I’ve done something worthwhile.

Our interview with Marval Rex is a reflection of his aspirations for both himself and the broader trans community. We are celebrating a visionary artist dedicated to forging a path where trans narratives are seen, heard, and embraced—shaping a brighter future where all individuals can thrive, flourish, and find their voices among the noise. Through his unique artistic lens, Marval Rex invites us to transcend mere survival and imagine together a world where trans lives are vibrant, complex, and celebrated.