“A rich and evocative story of queerness through the lens of a much larger crisis.”

As controversial as it is to say, few subjects have proven to be more cinematic than war. There’s something about conflict, whether past or ongoing, that inspires artists to create meaningful works which address the complex nature of war. I’ve always been more drawn to the stories of people who may not be directly involved but rather exist on the margins, standing somewhere between observers and prospective victims. There’s often more value in examining the widespread effects, particularly in how war can impact civilian life in ways that are unexpected or overlooked. This is the approach taken by Isabelle Stever in I Rarely Wake Up Dreaming, an ambitious drama in which she once again explores the intersections between desire and psychology in the construction of complex identities. In this film we are introduced to Olya and Oleh, a couple living in Ukraine, with the latter having recently undergone a gender transition, choosing to come out and live his life as a transgender man. However, this major decision coincides with the Russian invasion of Ukraine, which plunges the entire country into a state of despair. Suddenly, Oleh finds himself struggling to reconcile his personal choices with his duties, especially as the effort to officially transition means that he is now registered as a male. This forces him to stay behind and participate in the war effort, which hinders their plan to leave the country to ensure their safety. A fascinating deconstruction of identity and the challenges that come with existing in a world hostile to those who go against conventions, I Rarely Wake Up Dreaming is a film that uses a timely subject to examine some deeply complex themes that are both resonant and provocative.

We don’t often find films centered around war that directly address the subject of identity and sexuality – they certainly do exist, but it’s not always a situation that is conducive to more internal examinations of how one chooses to identify. This is precisely what makes I Rarely Wake Up Dreaming so intriguing, since it aims to be an exploration of a couple navigating their own personal challenges, all the while attempting to handle the destruction and danger that is starting to encroach on their previously happy existence. There are two core narrative strands that Stever and screenwriter Anna Melikova (with whom she had previously worked on the exceptional Grand Jeté) use as the foundation for the film, namely the impact of the Russian invasion of Ukraine on the lives of ordinary civilians, and the story of Olya and Oleh (two such people) working through their relationship dilemmas, as Olya has been quietly attempting to reconcile the fact that she is now technically in a heterosexual relationship after considering herself queer for almost her entire life. From this, the film develops a unique approach to bringing these two disparate concepts together, creating a rich and evocative story of queerness through the lens of a much larger crisis, and asking whether or not identity and the desire to live your life in your own way is somehow invalidated in times of war. It’s not always subtle in what it is attempting to communicate, but the film certainly is memorable, especially in terms of how it gradually unravels the inner psychological states of these characters.

The bold ideas situated right at the heart of this film are aided immensely by the presence of the two actors who are tasked with making these more abstract ideas and emotions tangible and compelling; doubly impressive considering they are both making their acting debuts with this film. Tania Myronyshena is Olya, who is trying to be a supportive partner but finds herself constantly wondering whether it is worth pursuing a relationship with someone from whom she is gradually drifting away. Markus Bright is Oleh, whose internal quandaries must be sidelined when the war begins, but then eventually do come back into play once it is revealed that there are complications to their plans. These are very committed performances, both actors working to breathe life into two challenging characters. Considering Stever is someone who evidently has a fascination with bodies and movements, there is a lot of merit in how the two leads not only handle the dialogue, but also the non-verbal elements, using their physical presence to emote in more ways than spoken words could ever achieve. The avoidance of sentimentality is also noticeable – there are a few brief moments where the film veers towards being more emotionally distinctive, but its decision to never resort to manipulating the audience to feel one particular way does become one of its strengths. Stever has a precise and direct way of communicating these difficult themes, and through working closely with her actors, she manages to produce something that is exceptionally compelling. The story avoids becoming overly derivative, which is always a concern when handling two very different concepts that end up coming together brilliantly throughout the film.

Ultimately, I Rarely Wake Up Dreaming is a film that takes some very bold swings and addresses issues that could’ve been hopelessly overwrought in the hands of a filmmaker who did not understand that this kind of story required a certain amount of restraint, or else it could’ve been a heavy-handed affair. It is also the rare kind of war film in which we barely see any of the conflict, with the only moment that even comes close being the haunting final shot that shows the outcome of the relationship between the two leads (one that is not as ideal as we may have hoped, but which is still oddly touching in terms of its implications). This seems to be an intentional choice, showing that it is always worth looking at war as more than just direct conflict, and instead something that has far larger effects on society as a whole. Various battles are occurring throughout this film – there’s the invasion, which is never seen but rather heard in the form of discussions between characters, as well as the inner war being fought by both characters, who are doing their best to maintain their composure and preserve a relationship that may still have passion in it, but which is being called into question as a result of the growing tension that seems to be driving the couple apart. The two themes come together to form this fascinating exploration of life during wartime, provoking conversations that we may not have expected to find so closely related. It all amounts to a moving, complex portrait of the lives of people trying to survive while also working through matters of love and identity, which may not feel like priorities in a situation where your life is in constant danger. That is a claim that I Rarely Wake Up Dreaming dismisses by showing just how related these two ideas can be when given the right approach and attention to detail.

(c) Image copyright: X Filme Creative Pool GmbH