‘Dreams’ Review: Jessica Chastain Plays The Ice Princess In Michel Franco’s Skewering Of Woke Hypocrisy – Berlin Film Festival
Less than two years after making Memory, in which Jessica Chastain falls for a man with galloping dementia, Mexican director Michel Franco has once again set her on a romantic obstacle course in which nothing, including her own moral compass, runs smoothly. As the monstrously moneyed patron of arts organizations in both the United States and Mexico, she is involved in a passionate but discreet liaison with a Mexican ballet dancer, Fernando (Isaac Hernandez). Separated by status, money, ethnicity and a border that the footloose Fernando is forbidden to cross, these star-tangled lovers lurch towards an inevitably messy endgame.
Do we care? Not really. As a heartbreaker, Dreams is flat and entirely affectless. We first encounter Fernando walking away from a truck somewhere near the border, one of a gaggle of hopeful braceros who are systematically robbed by the traffickers before being tipped out into the borderland desert. There is a promising urgency here — these people are risking their lives — but it soon dissipates. In a series of snapshot sequences, we see this young man make his way to San Francisco, find the door key to a fancy condo and let himself in; an elegant woman comes in, sees him in the bed but does not rush to call the police, as one would expect; when he wakes up, an in-your-face sex scene establishes that they have met before.
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This jump-scene storytelling is certainly mechanically efficient; what is missing is any sense of connection between the sleek, affluent Jennifer and her young paramour. Obviously, the established subject is the opposite — the distance separating them — but it is difficult to imagine they would even like each other.
Jennifer’s father (Marshall Bell), we soon learn, is the one handing out the millions; she is his helpmeet, gliding from gallery openings to recitals to airports, half her life spent in couture evening dress. Fernando may be talented — in real life, Hernandez is a guest artist with the American Ballet Theatre — and speak perfect English, but Jennifer can’t possibly be seen with him. As her father says after her boorish brother Jake (Rupert Friend) spots their intimacy, they are all for immigrants, but there are limits.
As benefactresses go, in fact, Jennifer is singularly unpleasant, bridling with offence when Fernando speaks to a waiter in Spanish — of which, of course, she speaks not a word, despite her frequent trips to Mexico. Jessica Chastain has always had something of the ice princess about her, reinforced by her finely moulded, porcelain features; it comes to the fore here. When Jennifer and Fernando are together in Mexico, she sits among his drunkenly chaffing compadres, stiff and strange in her neat casuals, looking as if she has never had a day of fun in her whole life. Their mismatch is just as pronounced behind closed doors; a scene where they talk dirty about the sex they are about to have, in particular, is so cringe you may find yourself overwhelmed by the urge to visit the candy bar until it’s over.
Arguably, you don’t go to Franco for love stories. His films put forward ideas about life’s swerves — both chosen changes, as in the excellent Sundown with Tim Roth ducking out of his life to become a beach bum, or the changes wrought by history in New Order, which addressed inequality with much more coruscating force than he manages to drum up in Dreams — with an unflinching chilliness that, when he is on form, is bracing and provocative.
Dreams, though, is just thuddingly obvious, both at the level of metaphor — as a fable of North-South exploitation, which is one of Franco’s stated purposes — and as a drama of thwarted love. Rich lady indulges in below-stairs rutting. Family closes ranks to expel the outsider. We have seen this before, any number of times. The variation here is that the rich family are liberals who support illegal immigrants; the point is that their woke views don’t really impact the daily privilege of their gold-plated lives or, for that matter, the fundamental workings of class under capitalism. Well, there’s a surprise. Meanwhile, Lady Chatterley’s place on the bookshelf remains safe. With the help of lusty Mellors, she cornered this particular market quite some time ago.
Title: Dreams
Festival: Berlin (Competition)
Director-screenwriter: Michel Franco
Cast: Jessica Chastain, Isaac Hernández, Rupert Friend, Marshall Bell
Sales agent: The Match Factory
Running time: 1 hr 40 mins
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