Editorial: Sandra Yi Sencindiver Between Power and Vulnerability
- Vingt Sept
- 5 hours ago
- 6 min read


This season, Alien: Earth arrives with a new kind of intensity that stays with you long after the credits roll. The series takes Ridley Scott’s iconic universe and asks a deeper question about what it really means to be human when power, technology, and fear all collide. At the center of it is Korean-American-Danish actress, writer, and director Sandra Yi Sencindiver, whose portrayal of Yutani feels both commanding and quietly vulnerable. Known for her fearless approach to storytelling, Sandra moves effortlessly between film, theatre, and activism, revealing different sides of her artistry with each project.
In this conversation with Vingt Sept Magazine, she reflects on identity, creativity, and the beauty of holding strength and softness at the same time.

You’ve lived in several countries and experienced different cultures and family structures. How have those shifts in geography and identity shaped the way you inhabit characters and tell stories?
That’s a good question. Of course, you can never fully know someone else’s perspective, but because I’ve lived in so many places and within different family constellations, I’ve had to continuously reassess my place in the world; how I see myself, and how others see me. It’s made me very flexible, and I think that flexibility is a gift for an actor. It allows me to make my characters rich, deep, and nuanced, even when what’s on the page might seem two dimensional.
When you step into a new role, do you begin from emotion or physicality? Can you recall a moment when your process surprised you?
It depends on where I am in the process and whether the role is actually mine yet. I do so many self tapes that I can’t do groundbreaking work on every single one, but sometimes a character just leaps off the page and I find myself drawn in immediately.

Once I’ve landed a role, I start by thinking about how the character moves through the world, how she walks, speaks, and relates to others. I build her from the outside in. The body is incredibly intuitive and can teach you a lot about who someone is. When a person inhabits the world differently from you, you can feel that in your own body, and that informs everything.
Emotion comes later for me. If you go too deep into emotion too early, you end up accessing your own feelings rather than the character’s. I prefer to build the mask, the body, and the rhythm of the person first. Once that’s there, the psychology and emotions emerge naturally, like a photograph developing in a darkroom.

You move fluidly between acting, writing, and directing. Which version of you feels most authentic?
Authentic and easy are not always the same. Writing is the hardest for me, but it’s also where I feel most truthful. Directing feels very natural; I’ve staged theatre, directed short films, and I love working with actors. I always know where I want a scene to go and how to shape its rhythm and emotion.
Writing, though, demands more. It forces me to dig deeper, especially because the stories I write tend to be very personal or politically charged. Acting, on the other hand, is pure play. It’s about imagination, intuition, and flow. But whatever the medium, my goal is always authenticity.

Your short film Seeking Hwa Sun explores heritage and memory. What story from your own life still feels too sacred or unresolved to bring to screen?
I don’t think anything is too sacred to explore. But some stories require time; they need you to grow before you can tell them responsibly. My short films are based on deeply personal experiences, but I had to become an adult, emotionally and artistically, to revisit those memories without being swallowed by them.
Now I can look at those stories from a broader, more mature perspective. It’s about care, taking care of my younger self, but also finding something universal within what was once painful or intimate. That’s when personal storytelling becomes something more.

Right now, I’m developing my first feature film. It’s less autobiographical but still deeply rooted in themes that matter to me, such as grief, generational divides, and the emotional barriers of men from a certain generation. I think many people will relate to that.
Let’s talk about Alien: Earth. How did you humanize Yutani within a world built on fear, ambition, and machinery?
Yutani is one of the few characters who is fully human and not physically augmented. But her wealth and power have already “augmented” her in a way, so she doesn’t need enhancements. I didn’t focus on humanizing her so much as understanding what she represents in the story: extreme privilege and power, and the desire to preserve both at all costs.

She’s the embodiment of capitalism, really. There’s a line where she tells Morrow, “You should have read your contract,” disillusionment with the remains of his life on Earth. That sums her up. She represents progress for profit, not progress for humanity. And I find that tension fascinating and frighteningly relevant.
The series blurs the line between technology and biology. Were there any conversations on set that changed the way you think about what it means to be human?
Not really. My scenes were quite contained, and I joined the production quite late after the strikes. I didn’t have the chance to engage in deep philosophical conversations about those
themes on set, though I hope to in future seasons. For me, it was more about grounding each scene in the human reality of what was happening at that moment.

In moments of doubt or exhaustion, what keeps you grounded in your craft?
Honestly, I just try to take care of myself physically. I’ve worked a lot in theatre, which is incredibly demanding both physically and emotionally. Film and TV can be exhausting too, but the structure is different, and the care around actors is usually better because of the budgets involved.
Every time I step on set, I feel lucky. I’m not the first to arrive or the last to leave, and having directed small projects myself, I know how much work everyone puts in. So I try to stay grateful and remember how privileged I am to do this for a living.

You’ve been very active in pushing for diversity and inclusion in the Danish film industry. Looking back, do you see progress or repetition?
It depends where you look. I’ve always been involved in activism because for me, it wasn’t optional. The arts in Denmark have historically been very exclusive, so I had to create my own projects and also challenge the system.
Over the years, I’ve seen waves of awareness, times when everyone is talking about change and then silence again. But I do think there has been progress. A few years ago, I launched a campaign that went viral and sparked real conversations in the Danish film industry. It felt like a local version of a #MeToo or Black Lives Matter awakening.
Now the question isn’t whether there’s a problem, but how to fix it. I co-chair Women in Film and TV Denmark, where we’re lobbying broadcasters and guilds for structural change. We don’t want token panels or temporary initiatives; we want policies that last, even when the people behind them move on.
So yes, change is slow, but I believe it’s happening. I meet people who genuinely want to make a difference, and that gives me hope.

Since your daughter made a quick cameo in our chat, has motherhood changed your creative instincts?
My girls are 13 and 15 now, so maybe that’s a question I should have answered ten years ago! But they definitely keep me grounded. They’re smart, outspoken, and they call me out when I need it. I love spending time with them.
Motherhood reminds me what truly matters. It’s easy in this industry to chase the next project or accolade, but my daughters constantly remind me that fulfillment comes from relationships, family, friends, and love. That’s where the real meaning is.
What message would you leave for future generations of artists, especially those who feel unseen?
There’s no “right” story. If you have an idea and you haven’t seen it before, that’s exactly why you should make it. Don’t look to the market for validation. Trust your gut; it’s where your artist lives.

People will tell you there’s a formula, that a film must have three acts or a character arc done a certain way. But if advice doesn’t resonate, don’t follow it. Your originality is what will make your art matter.
That’s a perfect note to end on. Thank you so much, Sandra.
Thank you, Philipp. These questions really made me think. It’s rare to have an interview that feels this reflective.
Alien: Earth is out now on FX and Disney+
Photographer & Interview Philipp Raheem
Photo Assistance Hannah May
Fashion Ruta Jane
Fashion Assistance Maria Julia Omena da Paz
MUA Sogol Razi
Hair by Jon Chapman
Set Designer Erin O'Garro

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