The director of photography for the documentary reality series Startup compares working on large-scale productions with smaller, more intimate projects.
Over the past few years, the American documentary reality series Startup on Amazon has been nominated multiple times for an Emmy — one of the most prestigious awards in television. Startup tells the stories of American entrepreneurs with a raw, unpolished lens — no glossy visuals, no producers screaming instructions into earpieces, and no multi-million-dollar budgets. Director of photography Serhii Koshelenko’s journey has taken him from regional TV in Ukraine to international reality shows — and now, to small-scale American productions.
After working on such iconic reality hits as The Bachelor, MasterChef, and SuperMom — where cameras capture love, scandals, and tears in real time — Serhii shifted toward more intimate, documentary-style projects like those produced by PBS. This shift placed him between two very different media worlds: one driven by explosive emotion, the other by deep storytelling.
Serhi Koshelenkoi explains why being a cinematographer means thinking like a psychologist — and how camera operators often play the roles of both artist and lighting technician.
— The show Startup, which you work on, has been nominated for an Emmy multiple times — including this year. What do you think makes the series stand out? What’s its “spark”?
— In my opinion, Startup is a truly unique project. It’s not about conflict. It doesn’t manipulate emotions or lean into negativity — instead, it inspires. You often see stories about people who started with nothing, who used their ingenuity and work ethic to build business empires. It doesn’t make you jealous; it makes you want to get up and do something yourself.
Startup earns high praise from critics and Emmy judges because of several factors: thoughtful writing, tight editing, solid directing — and, of course, the camera work. No one on our team is a “celebrity,” but together, the product we deliver is a real star.
— You started your career as a cameraman on a major news channel in eastern Ukraine. What’s unique about shooting news stories? What mattered most in your shots — the people, the setting, the emotion?
— When I started working at a state-run channel, all the cameramen fell into two camps: news shooters and visual storytellers for feature segments. I was on the news team, shooting daily reports and social stories. For example, in pieces about people with disabilities or mental illness, it was critical to find an angle that portrayed them with dignity. Even 15 years later, I still remember filming a Paralympic fencer named Alla Horska. It was crucial to show her power and energy — not her wheelchair. In moments like that, you think carefully before hitting “REC.”
— After news, you moved on to high-profile international reality shows like The Biggest Loser, The Bachelor, and MasterChef. From your experience, in large productions, are DPs more like artists — or just cogs in a machine?
— In smaller crews, you might have just a journalist, a cameraman, and a driver. But on a big set, you feel like a small gear in a massive machine — 30 to 100 people on location. That said, the responsibility is huge. If you miss the shot, the whole machine breaks down. Maybe only 10 seconds of your footage makes it into the final cut — or maybe the character you’re filming becomes the main story arc.
Take MasterChef, for example: if you don’t catch the moment someone drops a plate, it’s as if it never happened. Or on The Bachelor, you can’t afford to sneeze during the first kiss — or miss it. There are so many tense moments where you just have to be locked in.
I wouldn’t say I’m purely an artist or a technician. This job is a mix of creative vision, technical skill, and deep knowledge of gear. Personally, I became passionate about lighting. A single beam of light can shift how the viewer perceives a character — and they won’t even realize it. Big productions teach you that millions of people might end up seeing the world exactly the way you framed it.
— You’ve worked across very different visual styles — from highly staged shows to raw, handheld documentary. What’s expected of a reality TV cinematographer? Should you blend in, or help steer the story?
— It really depends on the project. But usually, the cast gets used to the crew — including the camera operators — and stops noticing us. So, you end up with two parallel realities: the characters’ world, and the crew adapting around them.
Again, it depends on the show. Some require clean, steady shots where we stay back and let the cast focus on each other. Others are chaos: we’re running around, grabbing tons of footage, trying not to miss a critical emotion or line of dialogue. Some shows even let the camera operator appear in frame if it means capturing the right emotion or moment.
— Have you ever felt conflicted about filming someone’s breakdown or personal pain just for the ratings?
— I’ve thought about it, yes. But the people on reality shows know what they signed up for. After a meltdown or emotional scene, they understand they’re public figures who signed contracts — and they don’t blame the crew.
For me, the main goal is to capture emotion — whether it’s joy or a breakdown. I’m there with the cast during their best moments too. It’s part of the job, and I always film these scenes with the subject’s consent. That’s why I see a massive difference between reality TV DPs and paparazzi.
— You’ve transitioned from big studios to a small, efficient U.S. production house, where you control the entire visual look. How does working on small crews differ from large sets?
— It’s like the difference between seeing a full orchestra at a concert hall and listening to a string quartet in a small room. Right now, I have the experience to shoot reality TV at any scale.
The big difference is this: on large projects, you might have ten camera operators and a whole lighting team. Responsibility is spread out. But on smaller sets, you’re the whole orchestra — juggling multiple locations, lighting setups, and getting all the coverage.
Each format has its own charm — and that’s why I stay in this profession.
— Startup has been praised for its authentic, socially meaningful storytelling — yet it’s made by a very small crew. What was it like working for PBS and Amazon for the first time? What’s different about the approach?
— Startup gets recognition not for drama or effects, but for the depth of its human stories and visual honesty. And whether a moment on screen feels “real” or “staged” depends heavily on the camera operator.
Before moving to the U.S. market, I was nervous. But then I realized — the rules of visual composition in the U.S. are no different from those in Ukraine. If the showrunner looked at my work, spoke with me, and decided to bring me on, that means something. My skills and experience were valued.
Yes, the crew speaks English, but we all also speak the same “language” of reality TV.
— What’s the difference between American and European audiences? What does each one expect from “reality”?
— From what I’ve seen, American viewers primarily see reality shows as entertainment — with big emotions and often scripted elements. European viewers tend to value authenticity more. They’re drawn to real-life situations, even if it comes with a harsher or more sarcastic tone.
But at the end of the day, both audiences love a good show. People everywhere want to feel something — and I’m happy to be part of a team that delivers those emotions.
— You’ve successfully integrated into the LA reality TV scene, working as both a DP and a lighting designer. What experience from Ukraine helped you most in the U.S.?
— These days, camera operators anywhere in the world can access the same gear. So I can confidently say that the experience I got in Ukraine prepared me well to start working right away in the U.S.
One thing I noticed: U.S. productions are much more precise in budgeting. In Ukraine, I could order a lighting truck with some “extra” gear just in case. In the U.S., producers will ask exactly why you need every fixture and stand — there’s no room for “just in case.”
Same with labor hours. In Ukraine, shifts could stretch to 16–20 hours. In the U.S., every minute is accounted for. So, while the technical skills are about the same between operators with similar experience, the real challenge in the U.S. is the language — especially knowing all the technical terms in English.
— What do you think matters more for the Emmys — and for viewers — an “honest image” or visual style?
— Honesty and style aren’t mutually exclusive. Over time, every creative professional develops their own style — a way of working, a visual language. You fall in love with certain lighting techniques, compositional choices — and as you refine them, they become your signature.
Once you have that, you can use your style to deliver an honest image. After all, anyone can point a phone at an event and record it. But not everyone can do it with style — not every video makes