Dr. Shireen Rahimi is a marine scientist, underwater storyteller, and filmmaker whose work beautifully captures the profound connections between humanity and the natural world. Her recent project, Letter from the Age of Ecocide, presents a visually stunning and deeply personal exploration of our relationship with the planet amid ecological challenges.
In this Q&A, Dr. Rahimi reflects on the creative process behind the film, the challenges of directing while performing on-screen, and how locations like Silver Springs in Florida helped shape the story. She also shares insights into her career journey, the lessons learned during this project, and what lies ahead for her as both a scientist and storyteller.
Tell us about your new film, Letter from the Age of Ecocide. What inspired its creation, and what do you hope viewers take away from it?
I know it sounds cliché, but I saw this film in a dream. Like many people, I have a lot of anxiety around the future of our planet. I did my PhD in ecosystem science, so I read a lot about environmental issues, and it was hard to stay hopeful.
As a child of Iranian immigrants to the US, I grew up on Persian poetry, and the teachings of these poets have always given me comforting guidance and support in times of struggle. My medium is underwater film, so I wanted to tell a story that used beautiful imagery and allegory to tell a relatable story about climate anxiety and highlight the wisdom of the Persian poets as a way of dealing with that anxiety. I wanted to tap into my own ancestral wisdom to provide support for others, and also to encourage others to look at what support their ancestral wisdom can offer them in these challenging times.
I also just thought it would be so fun to make a film with my friends in the springs, and I wasn’t wrong.
You directed the film while also appearing onscreen. How did you manage these dual roles, and what challenges did this present?
Balancing multiple roles on this film was a challenge, especially given our tight budget—just over $10K (shout out to Oolite Arts and Ivan Williams for their support!). That meant calling in favors from friends and taking on several responsibilities myself, including directing, writing, editing, and acting. On top of that, the shoot was physically and logistically demanding. I had to train for cold exposure and freediving, spending 20 minutes a day in a cold plunge for a month to acclimate—essential for holding my breath in the 70-degree water.
Time was another obstacle. We had only four hours to shoot in the springs before the glass-bottom boats started running. And then there were the alligators. We were filming during feeding season, with gators everywhere in the springs. Since I was in the water without a mask and couldn’t see, we had a dedicated dive safety officer on alligator watch.
Juggling so many roles was challenging. If I had the chance to do it again, I’d push for a bigger budget to bring in more help. But ultimately, we made it work through the dedication and hard work of an incredible team who went above and beyond to bring this film to life despite the obstacles.
The visuals in the film are stunning. What inspired the overall aesthetic, and how did the natural beauty of Silver Springs impact the look and feel of the film?
I’ve lived in Florida for nearly a decade, and I’ve always been drawn to the state’s freshwater springs. They’re stunning, full of life, and surprisingly underrepresented in film, despite being ideal for shooting—crystal clear and visually striking. I had long wanted to make a film in the springs, and after a vivid dream sparked the idea, I turned to my main collaborator and cinematographer, Phoebe Fitz. She had previously filmed in Silver Springs and immediately recommended it as the perfect location. The area has a rich cinematic history—classic films like Creature from the Black Lagoon and the original Tarzan were shot there—but it wasn’t until I saw her photos that I was fully convinced. Silver Springs is otherworldly, uniquely beautiful, and an incredible backdrop for a story centered on a single protagonist.
For this film, we needed underwater locations that reflected the shifting moods of the narrative, and Silver Springs offered that in a way no controlled set could. The deep headsprings had sapphire-blue water bursting from the earth, while further downstream, the water took on a murkier green near a shipwreck—each environment carrying its own tone and texture. The eel grass, sand patches, shafts of light, and wildlife created settings we couldn’t have designed better ourselves. At one point, a fish swam perfectly into frame at just the right moment, leaving us all surfacing in disbelief.
Shooting in a natural environment like this is unpredictable and impractical by Hollywood standards—which is why most underwater scenes are now filmed on controlled sets. But Silver Springs is pure magic, and that raw, organic beauty was something we wanted to capture authentically.
Can you share any standout techniques or tools that helped achieve the film's aesthetic?
We shot the film on a RED KOMODO, which proved to be the perfect tool for the job. Its dynamic range was especially crucial for backlit shots, like the final scene where the protagonist floats toward the surface through cascading sun rays in the head spring’s cavern. There’s something about RED sensors that captures underwater backlighting so beautifully—you get these flares and rainbow-like light waves that dance across the frame. It’s my favorite effect to shoot, and working with the KOMODO on this project ultimately convinced me to invest in a RED camera myself. The color science also gave us incredible flexibility in post, allowing us to shape the tones of each scene to match its mood and create a strong visual contrast throughout the narrative. After the film’s release, some people even thought we had used AI to enhance the visuals because of how ethereal and vibrant they looked. I took that as a compliment—my goal is to remind audiences that we live on a planet that’s naturally breathtaking.
There were also some more unconventional techniques involved. To stay submerged without having to release my breath, I strapped weights under my dress, adjusting them for different poses. And then there was our dive safety’s high-tech solution for alligator defense—a wooden pole. Apparently, that’s the standard protocol for gator safety in the springs. We all found it amusing—until an alligator started swimming toward us, and we had to scramble back into the boat.
This project feels deeply personal. Could you share more about your connection to the story and what compelled you to tell it?
This is the most personal project I’ve ever created—and also the only fiction film I’ve made. At its core, it’s a love letter to the Earth, to my culture, and to anyone struggling with climate anxiety. I knew from the start that this wasn’t a film designed for mainstream appeal, but what we discovered through screenings around the world is that when it resonates with someone, it resonates deeply. Witnessing those moments of connection has been incredibly meaningful.
I wanted this film to remind those grappling with climate anxiety that they’re not alone—that it’s okay to feel these emotions. The key is to allow ourselves to fully process them, then release what we can’t control so we have the energy to fight even harder for the things we can. I was inspired by the concept of Radical Acceptance—the idea that acknowledging the reality of our situation, rather than resisting it, can actually make us more effective in creating change. Rather than making a film that educates or diagnoses, I wanted to explore a different approach—one that draws on ancient wisdom to offer a perspective on coping with life on a wounded planet.
This project also helped clarify what I want to do next. I’m currently developing a docu-series that expands on the themes of Letter from the Age of Ecocide, weaving together storytelling, science, and indigenous knowledge to explore humanity’s relationship with the natural world. My goal is to continue using film as a tool for connection—reminding people that even in the face of uncertainty, there’s still beauty, resilience, and wisdom to be found.
Hear more from Dr. Shireen Rahimi: lightpalaceproductions.com
Follow Dr. Shireen on Instagram: @dr.shireenrahimi
Follow the film's Director of Photography, Phoebe Fitz, on Instagram: @phoebefitz
Special thanks to Dr. Shireen Rahimi for sharing her personal story and shedding light on the emotional journey of confronting eco-anxiety, showing us how art and science can come together to inspire action for our planet’s future.