Through the Fog of Forgetting: Kevin Sakac’s Limbo Odyssey

What if your forgotten past wasn't just lost… but stolen by specters of a world between life and death?

Kevin Sakac doesn’t just extend a hand—it yanks you headfirst into a fever dream of fractured memory, mythic echoes, and metaphysical ambition. Winner of the Best Feature Film of March at AIMAFF, this indie gem from Cheap Productions is less a straightforward film than a soul-stitching séance, sewn together with raw passion and a cinematic curiosity that refuses to play by the rules.

Our reluctant guide through this dimension-twisting odyssey is Adam, a man with a fractured mind and a gift he never asked for: the ability to cross into Limbo, that shadowy no-man’s-land between memory and myth. Think Memento meets Pan’s Labyrinth, with a dash of Doctor Who's time-warping bravado.

But don’t expect a comfortable stroll. Sakac and co-writer/director Nicolas Lenerand construct a narrative that feels like rummaging through the attic of your own subconscious.

And yet, amid all this heady metaphysics, there’s a deeply human pulse. The chemistry between characters is great. The writing crackles with a kind of indie earnestness, at times messy, often poetic, and always reaching for something more.

Visually? It’s a symphony of stylistic experiments—color correction that sings, camera work that flirts with chaos, and music choices that elevate every realm we traverse. You can almost hear the film whispering: “Look what we can do now.”

But ambition, while intoxicating, comes with its shadows. The pacing occasionally stumbles, caught between indulgent slow burns and abrupt narrative leaps. Some scenes are muffled by sound design inconsistencies—dialogues battling wind or background noise.

Still, what Give Me Your Hand occasionally lacks in polish, it makes up for in heart and guts. This isn’t just a debut—it’s a declaration. Sakac is a filmmaker trying things, taking risks most studios would smother in committee meetings. You don’t watch this film to be spoon-fed. You watch it to feel something even if it’s disorientation wrapped in awe.