Kateryna Sazonova’s work sits at the intersection of environmental advocacy and cinematic storytelling. A Ukrainian filmmaker and environmentalist based in the United States, she has built her career around films that encourage audiences to think differently about humanity’s relationship with the natural world. After earning her MFA in Film and TV Directing from Columbia College Chicago in 2023, Sazonova continued to develop projects that blend compelling narratives with urgent environmental themes. Her latest short film, “2389: Coming Home,” imagines a future in which Earth has become uninhabitable after climate catastrophe, asking whether humanity can learn from its past—or is destined to repeat it.
Before becoming an Emmy Award-winning filmmaker through her work with WTTW/PBS Chicago in 2025, Sazonova’s first documentary, “Plastic” (2018), screened at more than 15 international film festivals and continues to be used as an educational resource. With “2389: Coming Home” now making its way through the festival circuit, Cinema Femme spoke with Sazonova about the origins of the film, collaborating on ambitious visual effects, sustainable filmmaking practices, and why hope—not despair—is at the heart of her environmental storytelling.
“2389: Coming Home” imagines a future shaped by the worst consequences of climate change while remaining surprisingly hopeful. What inspired you to create this story?
My interest in environmental storytelling actually began before “2389: Coming Home.” When I decided I wanted to become a filmmaker, I wasn’t entirely sure what kinds of stories I wanted to tell. Then I attended a film festival in Ukraine in 2017 where they screened several documentaries about climate change. That experience really changed everything for me. I realized I wanted to contribute by raising awareness about environmental issues through film.
My first project became a 10-minute documentary called “Plastic,” about plastic pollution. It had a wonderful festival run and continues to be used in educational settings—from teacher training programs to workshops—which has been incredibly rewarding.
When I began my MFA at Columbia College Chicago, I knew I wanted my thesis film to continue that mission. The program required us to make a fiction film, and I was excited because I don’t really distinguish between documentaries and fiction. For me, it’s about whether the story helps audiences connect with an issue deeply enough to care about it.
Science fiction felt like the perfect genre because it’s always been such an effective vehicle for social commentary. Climate change affects all of us now, so I wanted to imagine where our current trajectory could lead if we don’t change course, while still telling a story about hope, belonging, and reconnecting with nature.
The visual effects are incredibly seamless. What was it like collaborating with your VFX team?
It was an extraordinary collaboration and a much larger effort than many people realize.
My professors at Columbia connected me with another school in San Francisco that has a very strong visual effects program. They actually took on the VFX work as a class project, so production and editing happened in Chicago while the visual effects were created in San Francisco.
From the time I handed over the footage until everything was completed, it took about two and a half years. Between revisions, semester schedules, and academic breaks, it became a long process, but it was absolutely worth it.
I stayed involved creatively the entire time. We met every week, and I was able to see every stage of the process as the artists built the world layer by layer. Recently, when the film screened at the San Francisco Frozen Film Festival, I finally had the opportunity to meet some of the VFX team in person, which was incredibly meaningful after working together for so long.
The performances are also wonderful. How did you find your cast?
Casting is everything. Strong performances make such a difference.
I found Carolina Shabata, who plays Sola, through Backstage. Finding Cary (Shoda) was a little more difficult because there weren’t many older Asian actors available through traditional casting platforms.
I reached out to an Asian actors’ community, and they recommended several performers, including Keri Shoda. We met a few times, and I immediately knew he was right for the role. Once I find the right actor, there’s usually a moment where I simply know.
The location feels almost like another character in the film. How did you find it?
It took months of scouting.
We visited forest preserves all around the Chicago area because I had a very specific vision. I wanted a wide, open field with a forest behind it, and for some reason I kept imagining pine trees.
At the same time, we had to think practically about accessibility, parking, restrooms, and whether the location could realistically support a film crew.
Eventually we found a forest preserve about an hour south of Chicago. The staff were incredibly supportive, and after working through the permitting process with several agencies, we were able to film there free of charge because we were students.
It was a very small community, so I even coordinated with the local police department about using the parking lot. Our core crew stayed together in an Airbnb while everyone else carpooled. We tried to minimize transportation and keep the production as sustainable as possible.
As both director and producer, what advice would you give filmmakers who want to make their productions more sustainable?
Interestingly, I think many emerging filmmakers are already working sustainably because they’re operating on small budgets.
You’re borrowing equipment, shopping at thrift stores for props, reusing materials, and finding creative solutions instead of buying everything new. Independent filmmaking naturally encourages sustainability.
Beyond that, there are practical choices every production can make. If you need a generator, consider renting an electric one instead of a gas-powered version. Organize carpools because transportation is one of the largest contributors to production emissions.
Large productions also create a lot of unnecessary waste through building new sets and discarding materials afterward. Developing systems that allow materials to be reused is incredibly important.
Food waste is another area where productions can improve by ordering only what’s needed and donating leftovers whenever possible. Every department—from transportation to art—has opportunities to reduce its environmental impact.
What do you hope audiences take away from “2389: Coming Home”?
I’d love for the film to continue growing, whether that eventually becomes a feature film or a limited series.
Right now, though, I have three environmental short films: “Plastic,” “2389: Coming Home,” and a prequel to “2389: Coming Home.” I’ve started screening all three together, followed by conversations about sustainability—not only in the stories we tell on screen but also in the way we make films behind the scenes.
Those two ideas—environmental storytelling and sustainable filmmaking—are really the center of my work, and I’d love to continue organizing more events that bring those conversations to audiences.
One thing that really stood out to me was that the ending doesn’t fall into climate doomism. It leaves audiences with hope.
That was very intentional.
I really want to move away from climate doomism and instead focus on solutions, hope, and the actions we can take today. Fear alone doesn’t inspire people for very long, but hope can motivate action.
Making this film has also introduced me to an incredible community of filmmakers and environmental advocates. Throughout the festival circuit I’ve met so many people working toward similar goals, and that’s been one of the most encouraging parts of the experience.
What’s next for “2389: Coming Home”?
The film is still on its festival run. We recently screened in San Francisco, and upcoming screenings include Brazil, South Korea, and Poland. We’ve also screened in London and Germany, along with festivals in Massachusetts, Chicago, and San Francisco here in the United States.
I’m excited to continue sharing the film with audiences, especially through screenings that create opportunities for discussion and community around environmental storytelling. That’s ultimately what I hope these films can do—bring people together and inspire conversations that continue long after the credits roll.
