After a slew of festival appearances earlier this year, including a spot in the 76th Cannes Film Festival’s Critics’ Week, Jason Yu’s Sleep (2023) finds its way over to the United States after premiering in South Korea earlier this month. Receiving praise from critics upon release, the hype surrounding Sleep is palpable, with early praise from fellow South Korean filmmaker Bong Joon-ho lauding the film as “the smartest debut [he’s] seen in 10 years.”
While Sleep may not live up to Bong’s lavish praise, the film is a sharp, high-concept thriller with enough great ideas, forward momentum, and visual flair to make it worthy of the price of admission.
The film centers on newlywed couple Soo-jin (Jung Yu-mi) and Hyeon-soo (Lee Sun-kyun, in one of his final roles). The pair flaunts successful careers, a grand apartment, a well-mannered Pomeranian, and a baby on the way. All seems prosperous for the two until Hyeon-soo begins to talk in his sleep, with two words said in particular: “Someone’s inside.”
Once said, nothing is the same for the unassuming couple, fighting tooth and nail to make sense of the erratic events occurring during their most vulnerable state. The sleep talking turns into aggressive face-scratching, sleepwalking, unconscious trips to the refrigerator, and a suicide attempt, all to Soo-jin’s shock and frustration.
The pair adjusts their lives accordingly after neighbor complaints and a sleep study confirms the severity of Hyeon-soo’s REM sleep behavior disorder. Simple lifestyle adjustments aren’t enough, though, as Hyeon-soo’s behavior worsens after their baby is born. Soo-jin’s commitment to solving the problem together keeps their hope alive, but something more sinister is bubbling under the surface.
If anything’s worth praising in Sleep, it’s Jung and Lee’s steadfast performances and camaraderie as a married couple. Soo-jin’s belief that the pair can overcome any obstacle by sticking together serves as a thematic tentpole throughout the film, nicely culminating in the resolution. Sleep is at its best when the film focuses on the tumultuous relationship born out of Hyeon-soo’s circumstances. Jung’s ability to channel Soo-jin’s concerns into pure adrenaline and anxiety is a feat all its own.
While the film is a well-crafted study of just how far one will go to salvage their marriage, the film has some weaker elements, namely its framing device.
Sleep’s narrative operates on a three-chapter structure, which works both with and against the film’s hectic chain of events. Each chapter closes after major events unfold, allowing a digestible break to the film’s chaos. However, the film’s 95-minute runtime hardly warrants this, and the breaks only serve as hard resets that interrupt the film’s steady pacing.
Furthermore, while the climax gives us answers, the ones provided feel too quickly explained as if just to tie up loose ends. The details are treated like they’re rooted in indisputable fact when Soo-jin’s impassioned rationale feels rushed by the film’s three-structure commitment.
The explanation for what’s happening is reminiscent of David Robert Mitchell’s It Follows (2014), another horror film that fumbled with its details too often to deliver a cohesive product. Much of this is forgivable, though, due to Yu’s ability to deliver in the moments that matter.
Sleep’s presentation is the real star of the show, with a well-lit, claustrophobic presentation that feeds off the tense payoffs it provides. Kim Tae-soo’s impeccable cinematography and Gong Tae-won’s precise sound design combine for a technically grounded experience, commanding attention at every turn.
Sleep is a mixed bag of a thriller, but ultimately worth it for the tense impression it leaves through its lingering suspense and explosive finale. As much as some elements are worth griping on, those that work are worth staying alert for.
Review Courtesy of Landon Defever
Feature Image Credit to Lewis Pictures via Rotten Tomatoes
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