‘Limbo’ Review: Brilliant, Insightful, and Intimate Storytelling

No film lately has nailed the dark and deadpan humor quite like Limbo. It’s absurdly funny in the most subtle ways, and at the same time tells an important and relevant story about a group of refugees seeking asylum in Scotland. Director Ben Sharrock balances humor and drama together with absolute ease, delivering a poignant film that will make anyone rethink their own perspective about refugees. Limbo is a necessary film telling an often overlooked story, and it is brilliant in every way.

Omar has finally made it from Syria to Scotland, but as a musician, all he has in his possession is his grandfather’s oud. As a refugee seeking asylum, Omar has been placed in a group home with other asylum seekers and must follow a strict regime in order to stay in the country, including regularly going to class to learn what it means to be a proper citizen. Alone and in a foreign place with few comforts of home, Omar struggles with his identity and purpose in the world.

Limbo is interesting in that it doesn’t try to do everything at once by throwing humor into serious situations. The film is very much front loaded with its dry wit and as the story progresses things tend to become more and more serious until it’s essentially a straight up drama. And it completely works for the film. I’m sure most of us have seen the whole fish-out-of-water storyline been done before, but Limbo does it with such care and consideration for its characters. Omar is living with three other refugees; Farhad (Vikash Bhai), who has taken it upon himself to be Omar’s manager, and two brothers Wasef (Ola Orebiyi) and Abedi (Kwabena Ansah). They’re all seeking asylum, and they all have their own dreams. What’s interesting is that even though we have a clash of cultures, Limbo reminds us that in the end we’re all human.

This is most apparent during the awkward classes that asylum seekers have to attend. These classes teach them essential things like how a man should properly behave or how to interview for a job through little skits from the hilarious Boris (Kenneth Collard) and Helga (Sidse Babett Knudsen). On one hand they’re funny just because of how absurd they are. Sharrock will oftentimes play a scene just a little bit longer than necessary and linger in the awkward silence that ensues. At the same time, the classes themselves are extremely condescending and xenophobic. Omar and everyone else are people who have lives and experiences. They’re not children new to this world. They had to give that all up when they left their homes in search of something better. As the title says, they’re living in this state of limbo where they feel like they don’t belong anywhere.

There’s an especially shattering scene where Helga and Borris run through an exercise where they have everyone use the phrase “used to” to describe themselves, and it’s absolutely heartbreaking. All of these people used to have families. They used to have homes. They used to work jobs. Then all of that was taken away from them and they are essentially left with nothing and have to start over from scratch in a new country. Omar himself struggles with this realization, and it’s referenced through his musicianship. “A musician who doesn’t play is dead” is a phrase that is commonly said to him by his father on the telephone. When he first arrives in Scotland he has a cast on his arm so he cannot physically play his oud, but even after he has the cast removed he still cannot bring himself to play. Did Omar used to be a musician or is he still one? Limbo explores the lines between past and current identities. Things aren’t as black and white as Boris and Helga would want you to believe.

Limbo is packed full of these insightful scenes that elevate its characters as you take this journey with them. It’s a fascinating film that provides an intimate look into the refugee experience; a necessary viewing to hopefully better understand the world and the multitudes of people living within it.