Sleep

Michael Venus’ feature debut, Sleep (2021), although it becomes almost Lynchian in its obtuse imagery, is, at its heart, a mystery; one that uncovers personal, family and generational secrets.  And it’s that narrative drive that makes it so compelling…despite its sometime maddening attempts to keep audiences in the dark. 

Mona races to a hospital in the small village of Stainbach where her mother, Marlene, has suffered a psychological breakdown.  Booking a room in the same hotel where the “incident” occurred, she becomes suspicious of the proprietors, Otto and Lore, whose helpful demeanor seems to disguise a sinister agenda.  The proximity triggers a series of dreams (flashbacks?) that Mona struggles to piece together, unearthing the history of a series of suicides that seem related to her own family tree and a ghostly presence that uses her for its own ends.


By the time the credits roll, Sleep has resolved all its loose ends…which, in itself, separates it from the Lynchian oeuvre that it’s most often compared to.  But it’s the weaving together of those separate narrative strands that’s actually the most satisfying.  Each character’s backstory is so essential the mystery that Venus must dole out information selectively.  Why does Marlene suffer from debilitating nightmares?  Why must Otto be strapped into his bed every night?  And why exactly is a boar roaming the halls of the hotel?  It’s to the films credit that these elements actually fit into a puzzle of murder, suicide and supernatural vengeance.


But Venus’s film, despite all that sleight of hand, is still a genre film; one dressed up in a fancy suit of folktales and national trauma.  And it’s easy to see frustration setting in for those who aren’t up for such a deliberate pace.  After all, spoilers aside, Sleep is a familiar tale that only differentiates itself in the telling.  But in an era of dull-witted streaming copycats, sometimes that’s enough.


Arrow Video’s Blu-ray presentation includes two visual essays, interviews with filmmakers and film critics, deleted scenes, a collector’s booklet and fold-out poster.

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