Life during wartime can be quite an ordeal. But, under such circumstances, life itself goes on, too, despite whatever else might be transpiring in one’s environment. Nevertheless, no matter how seemingly ordinary, mundane or even exceptional those everyday activities might be, there’s a good chance they’ll somehow be affected by the ambient conflict. And that’s the novel approach employed in this latest effort from director Isabelle Stever, a wartime drama examining how daily life changed in Ukraine at the outset of its conflict with Russia. As 2022 dawns, Olya (Tania Myronyshena) and Oleh (Markus Bright), a recently engaged couple, look forward to starting a new life together in Kyiv. Olya, who has a long history of dating women, is embarking on a different kind of relationship with Oleh, a transgender male. But no sooner do they launch into this new venture when Russia invades, changing the ballgame for everyone in Ukraine. Civilians eager to flee the conflict head west to Poland and Germany to seek shelter and safety. However, all men aged 18 to 60 are forbidden from leaving the homeland, their names having been added to conscription rolls. For his part, Oleh is supposedly exempt, having been granted a waiver from the draft department for gender dysphoria. But, when he, Olya and her parents (Irina Mak, Viktor Zhdanov) seek to cross the border into Poland, Oleh is not allowed to leave because his passport still lists his gender as male, *despite* presenting evidence documenting his waiver. Answering the question of his “true” gender identity is thus raised, an ongoing inquiry that he, Olya and his in-laws must grapple with as he awaits a definitive ruling on his draftability status. And, as the war rages on around them, not only must the family contend with waiting for an answer on this issue, but also challenges posed by supply shortages, power outages, air raids, and the traumas faced by Olya’s pregnant sister, Dasha (Maria Myronyshena), and her missing enlisted husband, Pasha (Oleksandr Rudynskyi). In addition, questions centered on homophobic prejudices and racial tensions between native Ukrainians and resident ethnic Russians boil over, making difficult conditions even worse. This results in quite a full plate for all concerned, and, conceivably speaking, all of these issues could each probably merit a complete film all their own. But, by incorporating all of these story threads in one cinematic vehicle, the filmmaker and screenwriter have overstuffed the narrative, creating a picture that sometimes feels meandering and underdeveloped for a 1:40:00 runtime. Too many protracted shots of comparatively routine, everyday images don’t help, either, needlessly slowing the pacing. And, consequently, the film’s effort to come up with a suitable ending seems somewhat elusive, introducing material late in the story that feels a little forced and somewhat out of place. The director’s intent to fuse a war story fused with a romantic tale is indeed ambitious, commendable and different, but “I Rarely Wake Up Dreaming” doesn’t quite manage to get the right mix of elements down pat, a result that’s ultimately almost as regrettable as the war itself.