Dreams, 2025.
Written and Directed by Michel Franco.
Starring Jessica Chastain, Isaac Hernández, Rupert Friend, Marshall Bell, Eligio Meléndez, Mercedes Hernández, Tatiana Ronderos, Bobby August Jr., Nessa Dougherty, and Jayden Leavitt.
SYNOPSIS:
A powerful socialite and a promising ballet dancer begin a dangerous affair. When he secretly crosses the US-Mexico border, she takes desperate measures to protect their future together.
Much will be written (and probably already has, given that the film has been released in several countries and played many film festivals) about the system-shocking, provocative final 20 minutes of writer/director Michel Franco’s Dreams. Aside from the fact that the filmmaker also knows how to stage erotic and passionate sex scenes moving the fornicators all over an area’s space (whether it be a countertop or a stairwell), and some sociopolitical/American dream commentary that is both nuanced yet clearly an unspoken focal point of an interracial relationship between a ballerina undocumented immigrant and a silver-spooned wealthy white woman torn between love and losing the privileges that come with living within such a rich but racist family, there also isn’t a whole lot to talk about regarding the first hour.
Everything about the shocking scene in question, which will certainly be offensive to some, is frustrating because of its racial optics. Some will unquestionably welcome anything that jolts the film out of its dull slumber. In the end, it’s Michel Franco resorting to in-your-face trauma and abuse to get a rise out of an audience, seemingly not knowing what else he wants to say, so he resorts to highlighting what has already been said through the above gratuity. Is it offensive? Sure, it will be to some. It’s more eye-rolling that the filmmaker apparently knows only one trick or mode to fall back on when everything else fails.
And yes, the optics are indeed quite bad with the kind of implied message that is downright stunning being sent from the filmmaker of Mexican heritage. There is a high chance viewers will rebuke everything about Dreams after a certain scene (it’s the kind of moment that can lower 4 stars to 2 in some eyes), but what is more illuminating about the film and filmmaker is that there will be a variety of reasons.
Michel Franco seems to mean well, as the majority of his torrid secret love affair drama follows newcomer Isaac Hernández’s Fernando Rodriguez, an aspiring dancer who has become so romantically entangled with Jessica Chastain’s Jennifer, a socialite and integral member of a foundation funding such Mexican arts, that he crosses the border to be with her in San Francisco. Expectedly, the physicality of the relationship is hot and heavy, yet it comes to a screeching halt, even after time, as Jennifer remains unwilling to let her family (including a brother played by Rupert Friend and a father played by Marshall Bell) in on the truth about their dynamic. This initially causes Fernando to pull back and distance himself entirely from Jennifer, who essentially becomes a stalker, offering more and more until she gets the relationship back.
Again, the filmmaker demonstrates social and power imbalances not merely through situational elements and dialogue, but also through cinematography, using large spaces and wide shots whenever Fernando is in the dance rehearsal studio or mingling with Jennifer. The world is simply much bigger to him with more opportunity when he is underneath her thumb. This is also a double-edged sword, given her obsessive craziness, which makes it just as dangerous.
Once all of this is established, Dreams, unfortunately, doesn’t really have anywhere to go for nearly an hour. As previously mentioned, even then, Michel Franco takes it in a direction that gives new meaning to sledgehammering home a “yikes”-worthy metaphor (here, it’s more like a missile to the brain, with it written all over its side in all capital letters). The sex scenes and occasional dancing are the only reprieve from dullness.
That is, before a tone-flipping third act brings both uncomfortable crimes of whirlwind passion, which would be fine if the filmmaker had the wherewithal to exert some restraint. Artists deserve free rein to do whatever they want, so I generally dislike calling any film irresponsible, but releasing Dreams during this US administration, with everything happening in the world right now, is dancing on that knife-edge. With one major change and a similarly provocative, challenging ending, the film would be fine. Instead, a better conclusion must be dreamed up. And yet it is still such an unexpected assault on the senses that it’s misguidedly trying to say something about these imbalances throughout the film; the film shouldn’t be written off entirely.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder
