Valeriia Khodos is a Ukrainian theater and film actress who, over her years in the profession, has journeyed from a theater-obsessed student to an experienced artist for whom cinema has become a vital avenue of creative fulfillment. Today, she also teaches, mentors young actors, and considers launching her own directing and producing projects.
Exclusively for the international glossy magazine Business Woman, Valeriia Khodos speaks about how her perspective on the craft has evolved, why she has learned to take rejections in stride, how the war has influenced her creative choices, and why the people she works with matter to her today more than ever.
— Valeriia, you have spent many years in a profession that continuously evolves alongside you. What was the actress Valeriia Khodos like at the start of her career — and who has she become today?
I reflected on your question, began recalling how it all started, and remembered one essential thing that perhaps somewhat smoothed my path into cinema.
While studying at the institute, I always dreamed of the theater and did not even look in the direction of cinema. I simply did not understand it. Even before getting admitted, I was constantly running around theaters, watching performances with starry eyes, and imagining myself in the actors’ shoes. That world fascinated me.
I ended up in film almost against my will: we were forbidden to act on screen, and I didn’t particularly strive to anyway. So I started out as an actress who saw her path solely in theatrical fulfillment. I was an enthusiastic, bright, sincere girl with wide, naive eyes turned toward this world, wanting above all to perform on stage.
And remarkably, cinema eventually absorbed me over time, even without my initial intention, and I fell deeply in love with it. Today, my desire for further professional fulfillment is largely tied to it.
Now, I am a mature, experienced person who knows for certain: a profession cannot fill an internal void if one exists. It cannot make you happier — except, perhaps, for a fleeting moment. The sense of happiness or discontent is formed within us and depends on external factors far less than we often think.
That is why today I am definitely calmer about the profession, hopefully wiser, and unequivocally more confident. Because I already know the path I have walked, and I have a vast amount of experience behind me.
— Is there a role after which you felt you had changed not only as a professional, but as a person?
A major breakthrough in my acting career was, of course, my first lead role. It opened up a scale of work that I had lacked in smaller roles.
I had always acutely felt the importance of the acting craft in the theater — during rehearsals, performances, and within the process itself. There was a sense of mission and sheer joy in the work. The TV series I appeared in back then did not always offer material capable of absorbing me to that same degree.
Everything changed with my first lead. My character was written in a very unconventional way for a television series, and the script itself was genuinely solid. It was a role in the series Windy Woman. That was the moment I realized how to translate the experience I had built on the stage into film and apply it to creating a cohesive, nuanced performance.
However, the role that changed me not just professionally was my work in the film The Tired (Vtomleni), directed by Yurii Dunai and written by Solomiia Tomashchuk. In it, I portray a servicewoman going through a demanding rehabilitation journey after combat experience.
It was this project that compelled me to delve far deeper into the struggles faced by our military personnel, who are enduring extraordinarily tough times where the fight takes place not only on the outside, but from within. And when you come into direct contact with such inner human pain, the world around you can no longer remain the same.
That knowledge, those emotions, reflections, and immense empathy for the people defending us have stayed with me. That is why this role shifted something inside me — not only as an artist, but as a person living through her country’s hardest times alongside it.
— The acting profession involves a great deal of rejection, uncertainty, and the need to start from scratch every time. What helps you maintain your inner anchor?
The times when rejection felt like a catastrophe are long gone. In fact, maybe such a period never even existed in my life.
At first, I was in love with theater, and my career there progressed quite rapidly. Shoots were more of a bonus, a way to earn extra income, rather than my sole source of fulfillment in the profession.
In general, I deeply dislike being dependent on anyone. Because of that, I have always internally understood: it’s not just about them choosing me — I am choosing as well. Naturally, that ability and such an outlook on the profession develop with time.
When you are able to say no to something you dislike, something where you don’t see yourself, or when meeting a director makes you realize you won’t work well together and you don’t want to dedicate your time to that project — it brings tremendous freedom and the inner joy of independence.
And when teaching entered my life, I gained an even greater resource and even more independence from casting approvals or rejections. I love teaching immensely. We make our own cinema during our studies. Teaching students, helping them take their first steps, sharing knowledge, and being authentic with them inspires me beyond measure. Because that is about paving a path not just for yourself, but for others.
I am ambitious enough to dream of my own cinema as well — projects I can direct or bring together as a producer.
So, rejections truly do not make me suffer; I take them quite lightly. What helps me keep my inner anchor are my interests outside of filming, my life beyond the screen.
Experience has taught me: the less you fixate on just one profession, the broader the opportunities that open up before you. One must grow and explore oneself in various directions. And what likely makes a person happy is the very ability to create something.
— How important is it for you today to choose not just compelling roles, but stories that carry meaning and can genuinely impact the audience?
A script that resonates with my personal experience and connects with me is essential. A role that I truly feel matters. When I have something meaningful to express through my character, that is when a role becomes special.
Of course, there are projects you take on simply to earn a living. And that is normal. Everyone working in television production understands that it isn’t always exclusively about art. There are ratings, production schedules, and the financial side of the craft.
Yet when, amid all that, you encounter roles through which you can speak about what truly hurts, that is the ultimate happiness for an actor.
And I am very glad that such roles continue to emerge in my life and filmography.
— How has the full-scale war reshaped your attitude toward the profession, creativity, and the themes you wish to address through film and theater?
I partially addressed this in the previous question. But right now, it isn’t only scripts that align with my core values that matter to me. Equally important are the teams I work with and the people building those teams.
Because today, your time carries immense value. In accepting or declining a film role, I am effectively deciding whether I am ready to step away from other work, reshape my routine, and subordinate my daily life to filming. Is this project worth the time I would give it?
Experience has shown me that the filming process can unfold in vastly different ways: rooted in love for the actors or completely devoid of it, through co-creation or in an endless race against the clock where, at some point, you stop feeling like a creative person altogether.
Lately, I say no far more often than I say yes. Because after working on The Tired, both the role and the production process became a benchmark for me of a genuine creative approach — toward the material, the actor, and the entire crew.
Once you know how it can be, you have zero desire to waste your time on something aimless or on work that lacks respect.
It is crucial for me to feel that I am truly needed in the project, that there is genuine interest in me. An actor truly opens up when they feel that interest. And that respect — or, if you will, love for the actor — is palpable from the very auditions, during the initial meeting with the director and producer.
You either sense that this is an environment where you can open up and create, or you don’t.
— Has your understanding of female strength changed over the years? What does being a strong woman mean to you today — both within the profession and beyond it?
Yes, it has changed. I stopped feeling self-conscious about my strength and realized what an incredible gift I inherited from my mother.
There is so much of her in me — including specific behavioral patterns. It was her example that shaped my understanding of a strong woman: responsibility, wisdom, inner fortitude, and boundless love for the people around her.
While I was coming of age as an adult woman, a persistent narrative prevailed: a strong man, and beside him, a delicate, gentle woman.
That pattern never sat right with me because it simply wasn’t who I was.
I have always had a strong character. I was always a rebel: strong, ambitious, sometimes blunt or impatient. And what I felt inside didn’t fit into the picture of a patriarchal world at all. There were even times when I thought my strength was something I needed to break within myself to become that very “delicate girl” society seemed to expect.
Today, I clearly see the shift that has occurred among women and across society. I am surrounded by so many strong women who lead, create, take responsibility, and fight. The desire for self-realization has long ceased to be reduced to merely standing beside a strong man.
Especially now, we see how vital it is for a woman to be independent — financially, professionally, and internally. To be fulfilled and to possess enough strength to navigate the trials that the war has brought upon us.
Therefore, I no longer believe that being strong is a flaw. On the contrary, it is an exceptional quality. I am drawn to being around people who experience the world similarly, with whom one can build something shared, complement one another, and grow stronger together.
In cinema, you must be able to be versatile. And life proves that your strength is your foundation.
— How do you envision the next chapter of your career? What do you desire most right now — to play a specific role, explore a new format, or bring your own creative project to life?
Right now, I am preparing for a new role that is very important to me. Table reads will begin soon, followed shortly by the filming of a feature film.
It is a dramatic story that I believe will leave few people unmoved, as it centers on family. For now, I’d rather not reveal all the secrets.
Every time before a major new project, I honestly have no idea whether it will work out, whether I will manage, or whether I can build a character that embodies everything that hurts and resonates within me.
Yet that is precisely where the fascination of the acting craft lies for me: you have no ready-made answers and no predetermined outcome. You step into an endlessly compelling process of creation and discovery.
So, we will see in a year’s time how my experience and inner vision translate into this new role.
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Photo: from the heroine’s archive