Anna Kalyna

Anna, he last season of The Bachelor Ukraine redefined the global format in profound ways. What was your original vision for the show in the context of wartime Ukraine, and how did it evolve during the production?
To be honest, when the full-scale invasion started in 2022, producing The Bachelor felt completely out of touch with reality. The very concept of the show — a successful, desirable man women compete for — suddenly felt disconnected from what Ukrainian women truly valued. In a country at war, the most desirable man became the soldier defending it. That’s why we didn’t film the show for two years.

It was only after some time had passed — and it became painfully clear that the war wasn’t going anywhere — that we started to reconsider. Life had to go on. People needed some kind of normalcy, and women in particular deserved to have their Friday night guilty pleasure back — something warm, romantic, and a little magical to look forward to at the end of another difficult week.

But of course, we couldn’t pretend nothing had changed. The challenge was finding the balance: how do you stay true to the emotional core of The Bachelor while also acknowledging the trauma, the loss, and the very real presence of war in everyone’s life? The turning point was realizing we didn’t have to invent anything. Life itself had already shifted the format for us. In real life, soldiers who had been wounded were starting to return to civilian life. Among them were strong, charismatic men trying to figure out who they were outside the war. One of them was Oleksandr Teren — a double amputee, veteran, and an incredibly compelling human being. He embodied that intersection between resilience, vulnerability, and romantic hope. His story gave the show its direction.

In the end, we realized the biggest production decision wasn’t about how to “balance war and romance.” It was simply to stop resisting reality and embrace the way people actually live, love, and rebuild — even in the shadow of war.

Choosing Oleksandr Teren — a veteran and double amputee— as the lead was both bold and deeply symbolic. What were the conversations like behind that decision, and how did you navigate such a personal and politically resonant choice within an entertainment format?
That decision was surprisingly clear from the very beginning. When we made the choice to bring The Bachelor back, we knew the Bachelor had to be a veteran — someone who had served and returned.

We had already crossed paths with Oleksandr through several initiatives focused on supporting veterans, and we had seen firsthand the impact he had. His charisma, confidence, and emotional intelligence — especially around women — were undeniable. He had a natural presence that went far beyond his military service or his injuries. So, he wasn’t just a symbolic figure — he was genuinely captivating in a very human, very romantic way. That made our choice both emotionally resonant and completely authentic to the format. There was no disconnect — Oleksandr didn’t need to “fit into” the role. He was the role, redefined.

So, as I said earlier, it turned out we didn’t really need to “adapt” the format — because reality had already adapted itself. People fall in love during air raids. They volunteer, donate, knit camouflage nets, and talk about their new crushes over coffee. It’s all part of the same daily life now. Women go skiing in the Carpathians and end up taking lessons next to veterans with amputations who are learning to ski as part of their rehabilitation. That’s not a scripted scene. That’s Ukraine today.

Instead of trying to layer the war onto the show, we just allowed the show to reflect what was already true. We didn’t force anything. The war isn’t a backdrop — it’s part of the emotional landscape our characters live in. And love — even in wartime — finds a way to exist within that.

In almost every location we filmed, the reality of war was present in some form. Sometimes quietly, sometimes very directly. The real balancing act was simply to honor that without overwhelming the heart of the format — which is still about love, connection, and emotional vulnerability. We found that love stories in wartime aren’t less romantic — they’re often more profound.

Filming in a country under regular missile and drone attacks introduces unique logistical and safety concerns. What were the most difficult production challenges you faced, and how did your teams overcome them?
When we speak of filming in wartime Ukraine, it’s important to draw a line: we were not near active combat zones, but rather in the so-called “civilian” part of the country. Still, the war permeates every corner of daily life, and production was no exception.

Russian attacks often target cities in the evening and at night—so the cast, the crew, and our participants lived and worked with that constant, unpredictable threat. The Bachelor is an incredibly fast-paced production, with multiple filming units working simultaneously across different locations. There would be a date filming on one set, while farewells and girl meetups were being shot elsewhere.

We rarely captured these alerts on camera—not because they didn’t happen, but because most of them occurred at night, outside our shooting schedule. Still, the impact was there. I recall one particularly difficult morning: we were meant to shoot a rose ceremony at an external location. But a large-scale air raid alert started early, and our crew couldn’t reach the cast. The participants sheltered in the basement of the house they were living in—a home we had deliberately chosen because it had a secure shelter. Our production team, too, waited out the danger in a designated safe space.

We ultimately had to cancel the external shoot that day. Instead, Oleksandr—the Bachelor—came to the girls’ house that afternoon, after the alert had ended, and held the ceremony there. Because this is a reality format, the following day was already scheduled for family visits, so we couldn’t push anything back. We had to keep moving through the exhaustion.

In practical terms, our biggest challenge was perhaps the invisible toll of fatigue. Our crew worked from early morning until nightfall, often on very little rest, because the nights were frequently interrupted by air raid alerts and shelling. Many of us spent those hours sheltering in basements instead of sleeping. Many Ukrainians say they’ve gotten “used to” life in war, but the physical and emotional cost remains, especially on a project as demanding as this.

Another major challenge was the instability of the electrical grid during that period. Right before filming, Kyiv was experiencing frequent blackouts due to missile attacks. We had to constantly secure backup generators, ready to deploy on set at a moment’s notice, just to keep cameras rolling. Delays weren’t an option—because of the nightly curfew, we couldn’t risk running past a certain hour. This was the reality of shooting a romance show in a war zone: a constant balancing act between safety, law, logistics—and love.

Anna, you’ve been with the franchise for over a decade. How did producing this wartime season personally challenge and change you as a showrunner?
My journey with The Bachelor began in 2013, when I produced Season 4, which aired in 2014. That was the same year Russia first invaded Ukraine—when it annexed Crimea and occupied parts of Donetsk and Luhansk regions. In that sense, the shadow of war has been present throughout this franchise’s journey for me.

This season challenged me both professionally and personally. As a showrunner, I had to hold two truths at once: honoring Oleksandr’s military past and lived experience, while also protecting the joy, lightness, and emotional openness our audience seeks every Friday night. It was essential that viewers didn’t see a “wounded hero” in place of a man capable of deep love, intimacy, and desire. I wanted them to feel the real chemistry that unfolded between him and the women—because it was there, and it was powerful.

Behind the scenes, I also felt a deep responsibility to my team. Beyond physical safety, I worried about their mental wellbeing. The pressure of filming in such conditions—the lack of sleep, the constant awareness of danger—was immense. Ensuring that they felt supported and seen became just as important as keeping the production on schedule.

This season forced me to grow. It reminded me that television can hold multitudes: it can entertain, but it can also reflect reality with grace. It taught me that love stories don’t need perfect circumstances to unfold—they need truth. And in that truth, I found a deeper kind of storytelling.



The pacing of how Oleksandr’s disability was revealed was strikingly deliberate and intimate. Can you walk us through the creative thinking behind that structure and what kind of impact you hoped it would have on viewers?
We followed the natural rhythm of how real relationships evolve. When two people meet, especially those with very different life experiences, the connection rarely starts with a list of differences. It starts with a spark—something shared. A laugh. A look. A curiosity about the other. And if that bond deepens, it eventually embraces everything: the visible and the invisible.

This is the approach we took with Oleksandr’s story. From the very start, we were transparent with the audience and the contestants: they all knew Oleksandr is a person with a disability. But that wasn’t the defining aspect of his identity on the show. What stood out were his charisma, intelligence, interests, and emotional openness. Like any other season, the journey began on the red carpet, where the Bachelor appears in a tuxedo—a symbol of timeless elegance that, here, simply let him own the moment.

But from episode two onward, we began to step into Oleksandr’s real life. He’s incredibly active, deeply passionate about physical challenges and new experiences—from ballet to rock climbing. That’s why his very first date was a climbing adventure. Later, he took contestants motorcycling—something he truly loves—and that shared thrill led to the season’s first kiss. These weren’t staged moments; they unfolded the way intimacy often does in life—gradually, through shared time, trust, and joy.

And as those relationships deepened, so did the physical closeness. After emotional connection came pool dates, swimsuits, and natural vulnerability—because when people swim, they wear swimwear, regardless of their body. By the time we neared the finale, Oleksandr shared deeply personal, physical moments with a few women—just as couples do in real life when choosing whether to stay together long-term.

As for the intended viewer impact—we weren’t chasing shock or drama. We simply trusted that this life-paced approach would resonate. And it did. Even viewers without personal experience of dating someone with a disability could recognize the organic, emotional logic behind Oleksandr’s journey. They felt it. And that feeling is what mattered most.

This season introduced community-driven dates—camouflage weaving, volunteering at shelters, and fundraising. How did these choices shape the contestants’ emotional journeys and the tone of the show overall?
We very intentionally structured each episode around three types of dates: physical, romantic, and social. Physical activities allowed us to highlight Oleksandr’s remarkable strength and athleticism—qualities that shine all the more powerfully in the context of his double amputation. Romantic dates were essential to the format and to the emotional growth of the contestants. And social dates—like weaving camouflage nets, volunteering, or raising funds—grounded the show in the reality of life in today’s Ukraine.

This mix reflects the emotional and societal landscape that Ukrainians live in today. Even when people are falling in love, they’re also collecting donations for their partners at the front, supporting family members displaced by war, or helping rebuild their communities. Love and war, resilience and romance—they coexist.

Oleksandr’s physical strength became a powerful metaphor for that resilience. Ukrainians often endure sleepless nights under shelling, and yet they wake up, go to work, raise children, and carry on. These are not conditions you can fully recover from—but you live anyway. You find inner reserves you didn’t know existed. That’s the spirit we tried to channel into our physical dates.

Importantly, this structure didn’t feel artificial or imposed. It mirrored what our audience lives every day. The contestants weren’t placed in some fantasy bubble; they were immersed in places and situations they know intimately. We simply gave them an extraordinary man—and let everything else stay real. That authenticity allowed the women to show who they truly are.

Casting during wartime clearly required a new approach. What were you looking for in the women selected, and how did their stories and backgrounds reflect modern Ukraine?
We wanted the casting to reflect the many different realities Ukrainian women are experiencing today. Each participant represents a facet of this changed reality — women from various regions of Ukraine, as well as those who were forced to flee abroad due to the full-scale invasion. Some came from occupied territories, including one participant who managed to escape occupation herself. Another contestant was abroad at the start of the invasion. At first glance, it might seem the war hadn’t affected her directly — but the truth is, no Ukrainian has been untouched. She became an active volunteer, and her efforts were reflected both during and after the project.

We also featured participants still struggling to find their place abroad, who viewed their relationship with the Bachelor — a veteran — as a possible way to return to Ukraine with a sense of safety and support.

Mental health was another important aspect. One of the women shared her experience of taking antidepressants — something that resonated deeply in a country living under constant threat and trauma.

The cast’s geographic diversity also matters: women from “quieter” western regions had a very different day-to-day experience of war than those in Kharkiv, Odesa, or Kyiv. Even though Kyiv is far from the frontlines, it remains one of the most heavily targeted civilian areas due to its symbolic and political importance.

Importantly, we made a conscious decision to film the show inside Ukraine, not abroad — to highlight that joy, love, and emotional connection are still possible here, despite everything. This was our way of honoring the lived experiences of women who choose to stay and live through the war at home.

Lidiya Pankiv

Lidiya Pankiv, CMO, STB:

Lidiya, from a marketing and audience strategy perspective, how did you approach promoting a season that combines romance with themes of trauma, heroism, and national identity?
This was a real professional challenge for us. War and launching a romantic show — at first glance, it just didn’t make sense. But based on what we saw ourselves and what the research showed, Ukrainian women were really missing that feeling — putting on a beautiful dress, putting on red lipstick, and going on a date. The bigger challenge, though, was sending a message: we’ve all changed. And yes, the idea of a “perfect man” today isn’t a guy with a private jet — it’s a veteran, someone who went to defend you from the very first day of the full-scale invasion. We had to do this with a very delicate balance — bold and careful at the same time. So that a veteran with a disability would be seen with respect, not pity. So that society could feel — not just understand logically but feel — that people with disabilities can live full lives, that they’re attractive, and that they’re desirable partners.

The Bachelor Ukraine sparked national conversations and even influenced perceptions around disability and veterans. How do you measure the societal impact of an entertainment show, and what feedback surprised you the most?
The biggest achievement for our marketing and production teams was this: by the time The Bachelor aired, viewers weren’t talking about the lead’s prosthetic legs — they were talking about how many times he kissed someone and with whom. In other words, we got to the point really fast where this became our new normal.

But we didn’t want to just trust our gut—we wanted to know if the show actually shifted perceptions. So, we did something unusual for reality TV: we ran a study. We asked people the same questions before the season aired and after it wrapped. And the results were remarkable.

Before the show, 35% of respondents weren’t sure if a disabled veteran could be seen as sexually attractive. Over a quarter doubted whether someone like that could lead an active and fulfilling intimate life. And only 14% believed that Ukrainian society treated disabled veterans well. These were not just numbers—they were proof of how limited the cultural imagination still was.

After the season aired, everything changed. Emotional connection to Oleksandr Teren’s story helped spark a real shift. The percentage of people who found disabled veterans sexually attractive jumped from 52% to 71%. Belief in their ability to have fulfilling intimate lives grew from 68% to 79%. And the number of people open to someone in their close circle marrying a veteran with disabilities rose from 56% to 69%.

We also saw changes in empathy and awareness. Interaction with disabled veterans increased from 15% to 24%, and comfort in those interactions rose from 34% to 46%. More people said they had veterans with disabilities in their inner circle—up from 49% to 60%.

And then there’s the emotional layer: pride in disabled veterans grew from 26% to 42%, admiration increased by ten percentage points, and hopefulness nearly doubled. At the same time, outdated stereotypes began to crumble. More people rejected the idea that disabled veterans are emotionally unstable or aggressive.

Perhaps the most hopeful sign? The appetite for stories like this grew. Even before the season aired, 82% of people said they wanted to see disabled veterans as protagonists in media. After the show, that number jumped to 90%.

So how do we measure the impact of an entertainment show? With data, yes—but also with the shift in conversations. When an entire country starts seeing love, intimacy, and masculinity through a new lens, you know something real has happened.

How involved was Warner Bros. International in supporting or guiding this unique iteration of the format? Were there any creative boundaries, or was STB given full rein?
I’d like to start by thanking Warner Bros International Television Production — this was the kind of partnership you can only dream of. Their team gave us full support and fully backed our idea to make the first ever inclusive version of The Bachelor. We understand they couldn’t have been completely sure this project would succeed — there were a lot of risks involved. But we truly felt their support and their commitment to helping us carry out our main goal and mission.

Looking ahead, do you see this season as a one-time response to wartime circumstances, or is this the beginning of a new, more socially grounded direction for reality television in Ukraine and beyond?
I truly believe that any project in Ukraine today must be relevant and reflect the pain of the times we’re living through. We’ve changed — and we’ll never be the same as we were before. I also remember a quote from The Guardian that literally said this season with Teren was the pinnacle of the format worldwide. I think this kind of shift had been coming for a while — and who knows, maybe in a few years we’ll look back at this story and realize we started something powerful. We set a trend that really changed things.

Starlight Media has been honored with the inaugural Cause + Action Award, part of the NATPE Honors Europe initiative, which will be presented during NATPE Budapest in June. Ukraine’s largest broadcasting group is recognized for supporting and amplifying the voice of veterans, notably putting a war vet in the spotlight in the most recent edition of The Bachelor. What does this recognition mean to you and the broader Starlight team, and how do you see it influencing future productions?
We are sincerely grateful to the NATPE Honors Europe initiative, to the organizers of the Cause + Action Award, and to everyone involved in selecting and supporting our work. This recognition is a tremendous emotional support for our team — and a deeply meaningful confirmation that we are moving in the right direction. It means the world to us that this story, and the people behind it, have resonated so strongly with the international community. Thank you for seeing its value.

Of course, when we created this season of The Bachelor — featuring Oleksandr Teren, a veteran of the Russo-Ukrainian war and a person with a disability — we weren’t thinking about awards. And this project wasn’t the only one. Over the last years, we’ve been developing several initiatives aimed at fostering greater recognition, empathy, and respect for those who have served. Our goal has always been to support veterans not just with words, but with visibility, care, and dignity. We want to help reshape the cultural conversation — to build a space where veterans are not only seen but valued as an essential part of society.

That’s why this award matters so much. It’s not just an honor — it’s a signal that the message we’ve worked so hard to share has been heard. It’s a reminder that storytelling can move hearts and shift perspectives. We are deeply touched, incredibly grateful, and more committed than ever to continuing this work.