Sarajevo 2026 review: Don’t Ask Me If I Killed (Helena Maksyom)

“A daunting affair, but one that is most certainly worth the time it takes to step into the shoes of individuals navigating hostile situations.”

Art has the ability to make the indescribable tangible, bringing to life ideas that usually can only be felt by those experiencing them. When it comes to war, there is certainly no shortage of attempts to examine the horrors of conflict, whether it is from the perspective of those fighting directly in these battles or the civilians who are forced to watch their lives change before their eyes. In the case of Helena Maksyom, she was one of countless people who occupied both roles when her country was plunged into a state of war in 2022 after Russian forces invaded her native Ukraine, kickstarting the ongoing conflict that has become one of the most harrowing of the modern age. A filmmaker by trade, Maksyom describes her intentions when making Don’t Ask Me If I Killed as the process of picking up both the rifle and the camera, entering into military service alongside many members of her community. She was determined to not only defend her country from these oppressive forces, but also document her experiences and those of her fellow soldiers, whether as a means to process the horrors that surround them on a daily basis, or to record them for posterity so that the world could hear of the brutal conditions from people who witnessed them firsthand. A well-crafted documentary that uses straightforward techniques to capture the conditions of contemporary warfare from the perspective of the people closest to the conflict, Don’t Ask Me If I Killed is a daunting affair, but one that is most certainly worth the time it takes to step into the shoes of individuals navigating hostile situations.

When it comes to exploring war, there are many places that one can use as an entry point, and while it is not the first in-depth examination of the Russia-Ukraine conflict (and definitely will not be the last), Don’t Ask Me If I Killed is one that chooses to approach the subject from as close to the action as possible. The premise of the film being that a filmmaker who has shown a fascination with exploring her country’s history (her previous film was Everything Will Not Be Fine, a collaboration with Adrian Pirvu in which part of the subject matter was the aftermath of the Chernobyl disaster) enters into a war zone as both an artist and a soldier, intent on capturing the conditions from a firsthand viewpoint while also participating in the effort to defend her country from destructive forces. We initially expect this to be an account of the experiences of a female soldier, a profession that is usually associated with masculine bravado. While that is one aspect she explores, there are numerous different people represented in this film, with the primary focus on the unexpected connections (some may even call them friendships) made during a time of immense crisis. The perspective shifts among a range of people, each of them a vibrant, complex player in this story, bringing their own unique insights and experiences to the film and creating a rich but harrowing portrait of their lives.

In terms of structure, Don’t Ask Me If I Killed is a relatively simple affair, providing exactly what it promises at the outset. Maksyom tells her story, and those of the comrades with whom she serves, by employing a handheld camera to capture their day-to-day experiences as they participate in the war effort. The result is a film that attempts to make war a deeply personal experience, rather than trying to create the definitive piece on the subject, taking the form of a visual diary as opposed to a detailed historical and political account. Like many very personal documentaries, the film aims to observe rather than deliver a particular agenda – there is a clear message that guides the film (namely that war is brutal, and that the people of Ukraine are victims of an oppressive ongoing attack), but it’s not one that the viewer needs to be reminded of, since anyone who steps into this film should at least be aware of what is being communicated. Instead, the director places the narrative in the hands of people in close proximity to these events, creating a mosaic of small moments in the lives of those witnessing the invasion that continues to upend their lives and make their futures uncertain. There are some genuinely unsettling images, and Maksyom is not afraid to show the stark reality of the situation, both the psychological and the physical scars that come with fighting this war. The camera is used as a confessional for these soldiers and civilians, who are more than willing to share their stories of being unwilling participants in a harrowing conflict that has changed the course of their lives and of the generations to come.

There is a chilling moment midway through Don’t Ask Me If I Kill where the subject of the soldiers’ children comes up, and it is mentioned that probably the offspring of these people will occupy the same position, fighting in a seemingly never-ending conflict. This is when one of the crucial messages is delivered, which is that Maksyom thinks participating in this war (whether actively as part of the effort, or merely as an observer) is less about victory and more about survival. Even if this conflict ends, the reality is that another will take its place eventually – perhaps not under identical conditions, and most certainly with different leadership structures in place (but then again, ideologies live much longer than politicians), but as a result of clear challenges faced by this community that merely wants to live freely and without oppression. It is remarkably unsentimental, nor does it choose to position itself as an examination of people who are victims of the system – these men and women are passionate about defending their country, but not blind to the reality that stands before them, which gives this film an additional layer of philosophical complexity. It ultimately proves to be a fascinating living document about a disturbing moment in modern history, capturing these atrocities for future generations to see and becoming an insightful glimpse into life during wartime from the people witnessing it directly.