Directed By Jason Yu

Starring – Jung Yu-Mi, Lee Sun-Kyun, Edson Camacho

The Plot – A pregnant wife (Yu-Mi) who becomes worried about her husband’s (Sun-Kyun) sleeping habits. What starts out as some light sleep-talking soon escalates to unexpectedly grotesque behavior. They consult a sleep clinic without success and as his nightmarish behavior escalates, they desperately seek help from a shaman (Yoo Kyung-ho).

This film is currently not rated

SLEEP Trailer | TIFF 2023 (youtube.com)

POSITIVES

With a plot that lends itself to genre or creative limitations, it feels like a crime to discuss the specifics of ‘Sleep’, but much praise is deserved in Yu, who summarizes the film with the ages old question; how far would you go to save the one you love? The answer turns out to be incredibly endearing, as the deteriorating relationship of this couple goes the distance with this unforeseen conflict that frequently gets the better of them, all the while surmising an impressive debut for Jason Yu, who proves that he isn’t a director to sleep on. What I find so compelling about his work here is how he absolves tones so naturally and effectively, initially using humor as a means that defines the connection and chemistry between his protagonist couple, then absolving the film of it by the halfway point, in order to emphasize the hopelessness between them, which overtakes their once peaceful abode in more ways than one. This is very much a thriller that sneaks up on you, without the necessity of overwhelming amounts of blood or brutality that lesser directors use to sell its impacts, and instead swimming in the nocturnal confines of vulnerable sleep, where the strange and cryptic actions of someone you know and love is balanced by the ideal of his inability to fight back against such, in order to create something terrifyingly helpless as a result. What’s most disturbing about this conflict is that it’s legitimately something that a significant percentage of people face in the real world, so nothing featured in the execution of this husband’s ambiguous actions seems out of the wheelbarrow of possibilities, with Yu revealing these nightmares in ways that are remarkably effective at pitting the audience in the shoes of the wife, as she not only navigates something she has no experience handling, but also tries to remain stable in giving birth to the couple first child. Yu is fearless in his approach, both in the unapologetic nature of some troubling developments, which made me squirm with their unceremonious reveals, but also in the meticulous manner he uses to document the devastation, with gut-wrenching responses wielding a far impact to what we as an audience are interpreting. In conveying such, Yu uses isolated framing and obscured captures that attain just enough knowledge without it ever feeling unnecessarily gratuitous, and despite the fact that we’re left in the dark for most of the picture, until answers are given at the beginning of the third act, the ambiguity crafted from him drives our curiosity factor, endearing us to nightly obstacles that grow all the more troubling and dangerous by the night, with an emphasis in increasing sleep loss that starts to drain energy from the wife in far greater ways than the husband caught in the conflict. For those roles, the film is exceptionally acted from Jung Yu-Mi and Lee Sun-Kyun, whose chemistry in dynamic and compelling banter enacts two characters who we effortlessly invest in. Considering this is the final film for Sun-Kyun, before his untimely suicide, uniquely, his best acting is done during the deep narcolepsy of sleep, where physically he articulates this helpless disposition of his body being controlled with a tangible resistance that perseveres the soul from inside, despite him continuously losing the nightly battle, to which his character has no recollection of. Sun-Kyun is very likeable and empathetic in the humbling humanity and heart that he brings to the character, but Yu-Mi is quite remarkable tasting the perplexity of emotional ranges that come to define her character. When we meet her, she’s this bubbly and supportive spouse who stops at nothing to grant relief to her problematic household, but after a few days of lost sleep, her demeanor starts to change towards desperation, and soon she unloads everything from anger to delirium in seeking some resolution for her ailing household, with boldly emotive eyes that burned a hole right through me during sequences where Yu opts for a point-of-view perspective from the husband’s vantage point. It’s kind of unique to see where the shifting dynamics in characters take each of these highly effective performances, and with the capabilities of each distinguished actor, the film and its material is always in good hands, proving that legitimacy in performances can still be brought to thrillers, especially those where the characters are forced to endure physical and psychological exertion. Speaking of that perilous limbo, the film’s production and specifically its makeup does a subtle but effective way of illustrating those lost hours of rest and restitution for its characters, with eye creams and makeup that paint the anguish of over exhaustion vividly on the eyes of Yu-Mi. During close ups of facial registries, this is obviously most effective, conveying insight into the extensive nature of lost days in ways we’re not always able to experience with a 90 minute run time, in ways that are especially meaningful towards her second half evolution in personality. Lastly, and obviously without spoiling anything, I did enjoy the big reveal during the film’s second half, in which we’re finally shown the cards of what’s transpired so far. It lines up seamlessly to the scattered pieces we’ve collectively attained along the way, but beyond that unloads tension and urgency towards one high stakes and fiery fueled climax that culminates with an inarguably perfect deeper meaning to the film’s final and lasting frame.

NEGATIVES

Despite an overwhelmingly success in Yu’s debut directorial effort, two unfortunate aspects temporarily took out some momentum from my otherwise perfect engagement, resulting in flaws that would’ve been better kept omitted from the finished product. The first is the unavoidable repetition in the nightly setup of this couple’s unfortunate disposition. Despite something new being revealed each and every night, the execution of the sequencing is so similar that it requires an abundance of patience before we ever receive answers, and though the film clocks in at a breezy 90 minutes, the consistency of the pacing feels unstable during the second act, where too much lingering inside of the conflict, with very little movement forward, leaves it feeling like it’s standing continuously in place. On top of this, the finale, while highly effective in not only garnering suspense, but also satisfying in its payoff, does try to answer too many of the questions to the big reveal, unavoidably evading convenience in ways that stand out like a sore thumb, as a result. Besides this, my other issue with the film is its need to commit a growing sin among films these days, where it individualizes its structure into these chapters, for no reason other than to jump forward in the timeline. Considering there’s only three of these chapters, with none of them named with a hint of contextual purpose, the need to include them feels strangely unnecessary to what they creatively bring to the finished product, leaving them another in a growing trend that demands novelization when it doesn’t even remarkably earn it.

OVERALL
‘Sleep’ is a creatively contained and character-driven thriller of a debut for Jason Yu, who crafts a compelling study of matrimonial paranoia on its way into an inevitable decent into madness. With a duo of drama-heavy and charismatic performances, as well a universal conflict evolved and expanded upon imaginatively, the film builds tension and instability in the air of a deteriorating relationship that turns into a nightmare, finalizing one of the year’s most unpredictably original efforts that prove Yu shouldn’t be slept on.

My Grade: 8/10 or B+