In Limbo offers a poignant portrayal of how war's extraordinary intrusion coexists with everyday life. Director Arina Maksimenko opens with a deceptively peaceful scene: herself recuperating from surgery in a sunlit room, her cat nearby. Yet, broken windows and people in motion outside hint at underlying turmoil. As Maksimenko moves in with her parents, the film documents their seemingly ordinary routines—sharing meals, washing dishes, tending to abandoned pets—set against the backdrop of Russian aggression in Ukraine. Rather than explicitly denouncing the horrors of war, the documentary subtly reveals how creeping conflict disrupts daily life. The elderly couple's existence gradually fractures as gunfire nears, leaving them in limbo—uncertain whether to flee or stay. This state of indecision, evoked by the title, recalls Dante's depiction of limbo as the first circle of hell. Without showing any battle scenes, In Limbo exposes war's insidious effects on domestic tranquility. It is a family narrative more chilling than conventional war films, highlighting the precarious balance between normalcy and upheaval in conflict zones, and offering a unique perspective on war's human cost.