Mor Cohen Dreams of Chaos

Award-winning actor and filmmaker Mor Cohen on accepting and embracing the inherent chaos of our lives and selves.

photo by Polaris Banks

Shortly after my wife and I moved to Bed-Stuy, I started booking and producing a series of concerts at a local, now defunct, coffee shop called Kava Shteeble. Kava, as everyone called it, was more than a coffee shop—it was a neighborhood institution, where folks from all walks of life would come together to spend a day, chat with neighbors, meet new friends, whatever. The owner, Yidy, was open to all event ideas. Music night, comedy night, art auctions, fundraisers, you name it. That open energy led folks to become spontaneous friends with the person at the table next to them, to pitch in at closing or during a rush, to pay for someone else’s coffee. 

I met Mor Cohen at the first ever Kava Musik night, a packed house of neighbors and cheap beer and indie rock. We immediately clicked. She had this look in her eye, something between determination and a fun-loving sparkle; it made me stop for a moment amid the hubbub of noise and drink orders.

That night at the café, she’d just moved to the Big Apple with no contacts and a lot of ideas about being an actor. Hah! Her and a zillion other people. But Mor is not a zillion other people. She’s a creative powerhouse with a vigorous energy who’s very serious about her work—she doesn’t half-ass anything—and is somehow also hilarious, with one of the best laughs out there and a quirky-nerdy-cool sense of humor.

I’m overjoyed to bring you our chat about the inherent chaos of being an actor, living with the ghosts of your characters in you, and why we don’t need to fix our neurodivergent selves.