I Rarely Wake Up Dreaming Review
· food
The War in Ukraine’s Cultural Battlefield
The Locarno film festival’s “I Rarely Wake Up Dreaming” is a satirical exploration of identity and choice set against the backdrop of Russia’s war on Ukraine. Director Isabelle Stever and screenwriter Anna Melikova tackle pressing contemporary issues with unflinching candor.
As the Russian invasion reaches its crisis point, young Ukrainian couple Olya (Tania Myronyshena) and Oleh (Markus Bright) navigate treacherous roads in search of safety. Their journey becomes a microcosm for the societal upheaval unfolding around them.
The film’s portrayal of identity is courageous. The characters’ relationships with each other are fraught with tension and misunderstanding, particularly when it comes to issues of gender. Olya’s elderly parents, who have made the arduous journey westward, find themselves trapped in a generational minefield of their own making.
For years, we’ve been told that culture wars are a Western phenomenon, something to be observed from afar and debated with detached interest. But “I Rarely Wake Up Dreaming” lays bare the devastating reality: these battles for identity, autonomy, and human rights are being fought on the frontlines of war.
It’s striking to consider how this film might have been received in a different time – during the height of the Cold War or even just a decade ago. The cultural touchstones that underpin its narrative would once have been considered too provocative for mainstream audiences. Today, we’re forced to confront our own complicity in these ongoing conflicts.
Stever and Melikova’s use of satire as a tool for social commentary is both bold and brilliant. However, it also risks alienating those who might need this film most. Can “I Rarely Wake Up Dreaming” pierce the armor of apathy, or will it remain relegated to the fringes of cultural discourse?
This film stands out from others in its genre by refusing to offer easy solutions or neat resolutions. The conflicts between Olya and Oleh are internalized as much as they are external – a reflection of deeper societal fractures that have been papered over, only to re-emerge with renewed ferocity under the pressure of war.
As we watch Olya and Oleh navigate their own identities, it becomes clear that this is not just a film about the Ukraine-Russia conflict. It’s also a searing indictment of our collective failure to address these issues head-on – to take responsibility for the choices we’ve made in peacetime.
Ultimately, “I Rarely Wake Up Dreaming” poses more questions than it answers. Will we continue to ignore the warning signs on the cultural battlefield? Or will we finally begin to acknowledge the urgent need for a new kind of dialogue, one that doesn’t shy away from confrontation or complexity?
Reader Views
- TKThe Kitchen Desk · editorial
While Stever and Melikova's bold satire brings much-needed attention to Ukraine's cultural battlefield, its timing raises questions about audience reach. The film's unflinching portrayal of identity politics and war may indeed resonate with some viewers, but will it also alienate others who need a nuanced exploration of these issues? In an era where disinformation and propaganda spread like wildfire, can satire be effective in piercing the armor of apathy, or does its very nature risk further polarizing the cultural landscape?
- PMPat M. · home cook
It's refreshing to see filmmakers tackling the war in Ukraine with unflinching candor, but I worry that Stever and Melikova's satire may gloss over some of the complexities on the ground. As a home cook who's cooked for Ukrainian friends fleeing the conflict, I've seen firsthand how these battles for identity are being fought in the most mundane ways – from disputes over traditional recipes to struggles with language preservation. Can "I Rarely Wake Up Dreaming" do justice to this lived experience, or will its clever satire only scratch the surface?
- CDChef Dani T. · line cook
While the article does a great job highlighting the bold satire in "I Rarely Wake Up Dreaming", I think it glosses over the elephant in the room: accessibility. With all its nuanced explorations of identity and choice, is this film really reaching the Ukrainian audience it's ostensibly about? The fact that Isabelle Stever and Anna Melikova are both Western directors raises questions about cultural appropriation and whether their satirical lens truly captures the complexity of Ukraine's experience. What does it say when a country's story is told by outsiders rather than insiders?