Film Review One: "Sleeping Beauty"

Here is the first film review I've written for my film criticism course here in France:

Sleeping Beauty: A Viewer’s Own Dream

Director: Julia Leigh

Lead Actors: Emily Browning, Ewen Leslie, Rachael Blake

Distributor: Entertainment One Films International

Running Time: 101 minutes

            Upon viewing Julia Leigh’s first film, I was left confused. Not able to wrap my head around what I had just seen, I could not figure out whether this confusion was intentional or without purpose. The Australian director’s work, Sleeping Beauty, demonstrates a defined, visually pleasing style with a lacking story. Not lacking in creativity, but in plot details and clear direction. If her following films continue on in the footsteps of her debut picture, her audiences will more than likely remain lost in a fog, a fog of bewilderment. I was not sure what I had just seen, or if I liked it overall.

In any case, Sleeping Beauty is a beautiful lullaby, with its silent score and dreamlike aesthetics that lull the viewer into a subdued state just like the main character.  

Lucy (Emily Browning) is a college age girl who is in need of money; aside from other aspects of the storyline, this we know for certain. Much different from Browning’s role in Lemony Snicket’s a Series of Unfortunate Events, Browning plays a much more mature, mysterious character. Lucy is late on rent, and may be supporting an alcoholic mother. Working in a restaurant as well as a copy room, Lucy then goes on to be a lingerie model-waitress upon responding to an advertisement in the school newspaper. This job, offered by Clara (Rachael Blake), then leads Lucy to work as somewhat of an unconscious prostitute who is not used for sex, but for the odd pleasures of older men. This is perhaps the most uncomfortable aspect of the film in that we are forced to witness a childlike woman, played to a tee by Browning, be powerless to the whims of these unusual clients. She is small, with an innocent appearance of purity. Lucy peacefully sleeps (after willingly drinking a drugged cup of tea) unbeknownst as to what is being done to her. It’s difficult, uncomfortable, yet captivating because of its mystery. We want to know more.

One may wonder why Lucy decides to comply with such a thing, why she does not find money elsewhere. In fact, in one of the more perplexing scenes, she burns her earnings from a night’s work, gazing into the flame. By this, it is made clear that Lucy might not be in her “careers” for only the money and might suggest a depth to her character that we are never treated to. This is the most striking aspect of the film: it makes us actively think. As soon as the credits rolled, my mind was reeling with theories and questions. The beautiful film was the foundation for intense—almost personal—reflection on our experience with Leigh’s work. Perhaps there is no complete answer, and this open-endedness is intriguing and thought provoking. Sleeping Beauty calls for participation from the audience, something few films today require.

While there are few clues in the storyline, there is an important piece to this intricate puzzle. Lucy has a rather strange relationship with the character deemed Birdmann (Ewen Leslie). She pours him cereal with vodka, she drinks vodka, they talk. They share a mysterious history. And, like the rest of the film, we must accept mere wonderment at what is happening between the two. However, there is great importance to his character, and he could be the key to the film mysteries. Lucy, devoid of much emotion at all, reacts to Birdmann and feels for him. She becomes animated when she visits his apartment and, most importantly, she cries for him. Browning unleashes pure sadness and emotion in her performance, highlighting Birdmann’s importance. However, Lucy’s strange ritual with his character ties in with the overarching feel of the film: nothing may be understood from what we are given.

            The structure of the film is disorienting, yet effective. The constant fades to black and fade ins create a sense that the viewer themselves are simultaneously waking and drifting off to sleep. Yet, one does not want to miss a thing. With each fade I was left yearning for more story, more clues as to what was happening behind the creamy cinematography. Along with this stylistic technique, a facet of the film that cannot be ignored is its extreme silence. It is as if Leigh was attempting to create an environment ideal for sleeping in the theater itself, as the film makes one hesitant to even breathe so as not to break the silence.

The film is barren. The rooms, much like the characters, are sterile. They are stark and devoid of color, all subdued to an eerie soft glow. The appearance reflects the storyline. It lures us in and tempts us relentlessly.

While Leigh may have been a bit too vague in writing the screenplay and directing for her first film, it does demonstrate great artistry and originality—it is left up to interpretation, the story able to be formed by the thoughts of the viewer. Sleeping Beauty is a baffling dream we do not want to wake from.