Cinematographer Laura Aliukonytė has worked on numerous Lithuanian and international films. But as she admits, breaking into what’s long been seen as a male-dominated field wasn’t easy. In a conversation with the Vilnius Film Office, Laura shares stories about her first film, life on set, and how Lithuania’s film industry is starting to change.
How did your love for cinema emerge, and when did you realise that you wanted to be a cinematographer?
My parents and relatives are not involved in the arts, and for a long time, I myself considered studying medicine, later journalism. I remember how, in the later years of school, I bought a magazine called Where to Study and marked all the programs that didn’t require math. I really struggled with math in school. That narrowed down my options – I became interested in the arts, in creative communication.
My older brother enrolled in a production program at the Lithuanian Academy of Music and Theatre (LMTA) and started spending time with people from the film industry. One day, he asked me to help film a simple scene. I remember everything like it was yesterday: the location – a monkey bridge near Vilnius, and the task – to ride past on a scooter. After that, I started joining film shoots more often: sometimes I helped on set, and other times I simply cooked meals for the crew. But it was there that I first got a closer look at the work of a cinematographer – how lights are set up, how the camera is arranged.
When I found out about the Skalvija Film Academy, I enrolled in the documentary course in tenth grade. That was probably when I truly realised I wanted to become a cinematographer – soon after, I got into LMTA, and completed both my bachelor’s and master’s degrees.
Can you remember your first shots? Which ones are still alive in your memory?
I remember the last film I made at the Skalvija Film Academy, which won the award for Best Documentary. On Vytenis Street, surrounded by apartment buildings, there still stands an old wooden house, where an elderly man – pigeon keeper – used to come to feed the birds. He was the subject of my film. This man didn’t speak Lithuanian or own a phone, so every Saturday I would wait in my car for him to arrive. He usually appeared around 10 a.m., but there were days when he wouldn’t show up at all. I waited for my protagonist.
The filming process was incredibly engaging. I experienced what real documentary filmmaking is like – something you can’t thoroughly plan, something that becomes an adventure in itself. I’m glad that I managed to create a film based on the footage I captured.
Have you changed much during the years spent on the film set? What about your methods and your approach to work?
We all change as people and as individuals. When working on your first projects at LMTA, there’s often this pressure on yourself – it has to be better, there’s no room for mistakes. And if someone else, who seemingly put in less effort, ends up doing better… It stings. As women, we especially tended to undervalue ourselves, and for a long time, we faced discrimination because of our chosen profession. Back then, I didn’t yet have the kind of backbone or thick skin necessary in this field.
From my student days until now, there have always been moments when I’ve doubted myself – am I doing things right, is this really where I belong?
Over time, I learned not to take everything so personally. I came to understand that I do things in my own way – some will appreciate it, others won’t, and opinions will always be subjective. Every project is different, and you have to adapt to its specific rules. I no longer beat myself up over whether I’m choosing commercial or auteur cinema. Eventually, I started trusting myself more – I no longer need to prove anything to anyone.
What does your work look like on a film set? Do you have a lot of creative freedom?
Every project is very different. In advertising, organizers often dictate every detail, down to the shots, lights, and colors. Yet there are times when you are given complete freedom. It is important to discuss things, listen to different opinions, and find a solution that satisfies everyone. However, there is creativity everywhere, even when choosing a lens.
You can be a great professional, technically good at doing your job, and “have an eye,” but your communication skills and empathy on a film set are just as important. For producers and directors, the ability to communicate and compromise is almost essential.
What is the most difficult thing for you as a cinematographer, and what brings you the most pleasure?
There are times when I have to ask a well-known, award-winning actor to repeat the same scene ten times. I’m a more reserved person, so situations like that can feel uncomfortable. Sometimes an actor’s mind is elsewhere – they don’t hit their mark or don’t deliver what’s needed. The work of the makeup and art departments is also crucial in every scene – even if at first glance it seems distant from the cinematographer’s responsibilities.
The hardest part is often getting the script and realizing that everything in it has to be brought to life. Where do you start? How do you not get lost in it all? Night shifts are also challenging, but they carry a special kind of atmosphere and energy – something that helps you understand why you’re on set in the first place. It’s a subtle, hard-to-define feeling – a sense of togetherness. Even after long, exhausting shoots, you still wake up in the morning and go back to set.
How does technological progress change your work and decisions on the film set?
Technology is changing and improving, but everything seems to move in circles. Today, LMTA students are required to learn how to shoot with a film camera – we never did. At that time, the idea of a digital camera was an aspiration, now it is an integral part of everyday life.
Speaking of artificial intelligence, I believe it will affect illustrators rather than those who make moving images. How will technology affect a person with feelings and a unique vision of the world? That remains to be seen.
However, we all see certain changes: for example, an actor no longer needs to voice a few lines in a film. Remote-controlled lights, lighter LED mats have appeared – working on a film set is becoming increasingly comfortable.
You have worked on many foreign projects, including the TV series “Stranger Things”, “Clark”, and the dystopian film “Paradise”. Is there a difference in working on foreign and Lithuanian film sets?
When working on international projects, we go through casting, just like actors, so there is less fear – you understand that you were accepted for a reason. Even famous film professionals from abroad and well-known directors often turn out to be very ordinary, down-to-earth people.
Nowadays, I see more women working on international projects, for example, as cinematographers and lighting designers. I think foreign filmmakers who came to Lithuania to work here taught us more goodwill, sincere communication, and empathy.
How do you think the Lithuanian film industry and student experiences are changing today?
KIMO (LMTA National Film School) sent me a list of first-year cinematographers. I doubted whether it was correct, as there was an equal number of boys and girls on the list. I am glad that although the work of a cinematographer is still considered a male speciality, the number of women in this field is increasing.
A big and positive change is taking place: films are no longer intended only for people in the film industry; a diverse public watches them. Lithuanian cinema is becoming more spectator-oriented, but it does not lose its meaning and depth. A new generation is currently experiencing its peak. Students travel to presentations and win awards – this is no longer just a revival, but a real industry flourishing. We are on the way to the top, and I am content with all these changes.
What films would you like to try working on today?
I’m looking forward to the opportunity to contribute to auteur cinema, which feels closer to me personally. It’s about relationships, about people. I’m a romantic at heart, so themes of human connection and relationships resonate with me more deeply – they’re more sensitive, more meaningful, and reflect my inner world more honestly.
Thank you for the conversation.
inematographer Laura Aliukonytė has worked on numerous Lithuanian and international films. But as she admits, breaking into what’s long been seen as a male-dominated field wasn’t easy. In a conversation with the Vilnius Film Office, Laura shares stories about her first film, life on set, and how Lithuania’s film industry is starting to change.
How did your love for cinema emerge, and when did you realise that you wanted to be a cinematographer?
My parents and relatives are not involved in the arts, and for a long time, I myself considered studying medicine, later journalism. I remember how, in the later years of school, I bought a magazine called Where to Study and marked all the programs that didn’t require math. I really struggled with math in school. That narrowed down my options – I became interested in the arts, in creative communication.
My older brother enrolled in a production program at the Lithuanian Academy of Music and Theatre (LMTA) and started spending time with people from the film industry. One day, he asked me to help film a simple scene. I remember everything like it was yesterday: the location – a monkey bridge near Vilnius, and the task – to ride past on a scooter. After that, I started joining film shoots more often: sometimes I helped on set, and other times I simply cooked meals for the crew. But it was there that I first got a closer look at the work of a cinematographer – how lights are set up, how the camera is arranged.
When I found out about the Skalvija Film Academy, I enrolled in the documentary course in tenth grade. That was probably when I truly realised I wanted to become a cinematographer – soon after, I got into LMTA, and completed both my bachelor’s and master’s degrees.
Can you remember your first shots? Which ones are still alive in your memory?
I remember the last film I made at the Skalvija Film Academy, which won the award for Best Documentary. On Vytenis Street, surrounded by apartment buildings, there still stands an old wooden house, where an elderly man – pigeon keeper – used to come to feed the birds. He was the subject of my film. This man didn’t speak Lithuanian or own a phone, so every Saturday I would wait in my car for him to arrive. He usually appeared around 10 a.m., but there were days when he wouldn’t show up at all. I waited for my protagonist.
The filming process was incredibly engaging. I experienced what real documentary filmmaking is like – something you can’t thoroughly plan, something that becomes an adventure in itself. I’m glad that I managed to create a film based on the footage I captured.
Have you changed much during the years spent on the film set? What about your methods and your approach to work?
We all change as people and as individuals. When working on your first projects at LMTA, there’s often this pressure on yourself – it has to be better, there’s no room for mistakes. And if someone else, who seemingly put in less effort, ends up doing better… It stings. As women, we especially tended to undervalue ourselves, and for a long time, we faced discrimination because of our chosen profession. Back then, I didn’t yet have the kind of backbone or thick skin necessary in this field.
From my student days until now, there have always been moments when I’ve doubted myself – am I doing things right, is this really where I belong?
Over time, I learned not to take everything so personally. I came to understand that I do things in my own way – some will appreciate it, others won’t, and opinions will always be subjective. Every project is different, and you have to adapt to its specific rules. I no longer beat myself up over whether I’m choosing commercial or auteur cinema. Eventually, I started trusting myself more – I no longer need to prove anything to anyone.
What does your work look like on a film set? Do you have a lot of creative freedom?
Every project is very different. In advertising, organizers often dictate every detail, down to the shots, lights, and colors. Yet there are times when you are given complete freedom. It is important to discuss things, listen to different opinions, and find a solution that satisfies everyone. However, there is creativity everywhere, even when choosing a lens.
You can be a great professional, technically good at doing your job, and “have an eye,” but your communication skills and empathy on a film set are just as important. For producers and directors, the ability to communicate and compromise is almost essential.
What is the most difficult thing for you as a cinematographer, and what brings you the most pleasure?
There are times when I have to ask a well-known, award-winning actor to repeat the same scene ten times. I’m a more reserved person, so situations like that can feel uncomfortable. Sometimes an actor’s mind is elsewhere – they don’t hit their mark or don’t deliver what’s needed. The work of the makeup and art departments is also crucial in every scene – even if at first glance it seems distant from the cinematographer’s responsibilities.
The hardest part is often getting the script and realizing that everything in it has to be brought to life. Where do you start? How do you not get lost in it all? Night shifts are also challenging, but they carry a special kind of atmosphere and energy – something that helps you understand why you’re on set in the first place. It’s a subtle, hard-to-define feeling – a sense of togetherness. Even after long, exhausting shoots, you still wake up in the morning and go back to set.
How does technological progress change your work and decisions on the film set?
Technology is changing and improving, but everything seems to move in circles. Today, LMTA students are required to learn how to shoot with a film camera – we never did. At that time, the idea of a digital camera was an aspiration, now it is an integral part of everyday life.
Speaking of artificial intelligence, I believe it will affect illustrators rather than those who make moving images. How will technology affect a person with feelings and a unique vision of the world? That remains to be seen.
However, we all see certain changes: for example, an actor no longer needs to voice a few lines in a film. Remote-controlled lights, lighter LED mats have appeared – working on a film set is becoming increasingly comfortable.
You have worked on many foreign projects, including the TV series “Stranger Things”, “Clark”, and the dystopian film “Paradise”. Is there a difference in working on foreign and Lithuanian film sets?
When working on international projects, we go through casting, just like actors, so there is less fear – you understand that you were accepted for a reason. Even famous film professionals from abroad and well-known directors often turn out to be very ordinary, down-to-earth people.
Nowadays, I see more women working on international projects, for example, as cinematographers and lighting designers. I think foreign filmmakers who came to Lithuania to work here taught us more goodwill, sincere communication, and empathy.
How do you think the Lithuanian film industry and student experiences are changing today?
KIMO (LMTA National Film School) sent me a list of first-year cinematographers. I doubted whether it was correct, as there was an equal number of boys and girls on the list. I am glad that although the work of a cinematographer is still considered a male speciality, the number of women in this field is increasing.
A big and positive change is taking place: films are no longer intended only for people in the film industry; a diverse public watches them. Lithuanian cinema is becoming more spectator-oriented, but it does not lose its meaning and depth. A new generation is currently experiencing its peak. Students travel to presentations and win awards – this is no longer just a revival, but a real industry flourishing. We are on the way to the top, and I am content with all these changes.
What films would you like to try working on today?
I’m looking forward to the opportunity to contribute to auteur cinema, which feels closer to me personally. It’s about relationships, about people. I’m a romantic at heart, so themes of human connection and relationships resonate with me more deeply – they’re more sensitive, more meaningful, and reflect my inner world more honestly.
Thank you for the conversation.
