Pesadelo Cruel

If there isn't much in this modest, sub-Hitchcock thriller worth criticizing it's only because there isn't much in it worth noticing at all. The premise is fascinating: that a drug might be used (or, in this case, abused) to block the chemical in our brains that inhibits muscular action during sleep, allowing us to unconsciously act out our dreams. But the script never aspires toward anything more than a routine psycho-thriller of curiously limited means: the film seems to have been made on two or three sparse studio sets with a very small cast, led by Kristy McNichol as the young test subject who naturally forgets to ask about an antidote. A throw away release doomed the film to a quick, easy death at the box office, which is a shame considering the far worse features being plugged that same summer, and the unsettling streak of sadism didn't help matters: most of McNichol's dreams find her a victim of rape and/or extreme violence.

Well, all-in-all this is a rather lame & pretty disappointing movie. It's not badly made or hasn't any noticeable technical flaws for that matter. It's just that the pacing was too slow and on several occasions the suspense was really lacking. A lady gets attacked in her apartment by an unwelcome visitor (well not really her apartment, since she's still a little daddy's girl, but an apartment she sub-rents from some musician who is out of town). She manages to overcome him. However, she remains traumatized and starts developing some serious mental issues (like in: ripe for the loony-bin). I won't tell much more for those of you who still want to check out this movie, because, well, it is directed by Alan J. Pakula after all, so I'm sure you could do worse picking up a random movie (not that I'm a fan of this director or anything). It has maybe one or two tense scenes and some enjoyable dream-sequences. But that's all, basically. The final scenes in the building in London had something promising going on there, but in the end the conclusion is just disappointing. They really should at least have thrown maybe some incest and a lot of killings in there to spice things up (not that these are things that make a movie good, but hey, if you're out to terrify your audience, then why not make the extra effort?). But no, just pretty lame stuff and secretive dream-research in some basement room is all you will find in this one. So why didn't I flunk this movie? I dunno... maybe I'm just a nice guy. Or maybe it's a better movie than I first thought it was? If I'll ever re-watch it, I'll let you know.

Kristy McNicol is totally miscast and the ending, the one that takes place outside with the characters teetering on the edge of the skyscraper, was really bad and a groaner, but the rest of the film is pretty good. I'm not a big Pakula fan but I really like his minimalist approach to the somewhat contrived story. The look and feel of the film are my favorite part. The cinematography is excellent. McNicol's NY apartment is one of my favorites in any movie. It's so small and compact but cool. Wish I had it. The recurring dreams have a really unsettling quality to them. I'm impressed that Pakula actually went ahead and had these dream sequence be really become repetitive. I'm sure this turned off a huge portion of the audience but I thought they were really effective because they were so repetitive. The sound design during those nightmares sequences are also worth noting. The dream sequences of McNicol walking down a huge hallway were also amazing. I give the film's production design a huge 10. I wish I could give 10 to the rest of the film but can't. But even with all its faults, DREAM LOVER is a very overlooked movie.

This is a creepy little film... Kristy McNichol plays Kathy, a flautist and daddy's girl from the suburbs who is invited to join a professional jazz combo with a gig in a downtown restaurant in a big city. No sooner has she rented an apartment in town than she is attacked by a stalker, whom she kills in self-defense. Afterwards she attempts to suppress the memory of the attack and subsequently is plagued by a recurring nightmare where she relives the night of the attack. The rest of the movie deals with her relationship with a sleep researcher who uses her as a guinea pig in his experiments into the dream-life of animals. The scenes with McNichol playing flute and scatting are a little embarrassing (the movie employed technical advisors for scenes involving clinical psychology, and they could have used similar advice in the scenes with the jazz combo). Also, there's not much dramatic tension in a movie where Science is the protagonist and the only real antagonist is McNichol's lingering nightmares (in contrast with, say, "Altered States", where sound scientific theories complemented perfectly the fact that all the scientists were raving nutters). But the atmosphere is certainly unnerving and claustrophobic. The movie shifts from dream-frame to reality-frame often enough so that at the most crucial moments, you're kept guessing whether what you're seeing is real or not. Director Pakula coaxes his usual understated, naturalistic performances from all concerned. McNichol is perfectly cast as the slightly lost, sexually vulnerable young artist out on her own for the first time, and gives a great performance I've never seen her match. Her scenes with her father are affecting and pathetic. Paul Shenar is great, too, as Kathy's Dad; "Twin Peaks" fans will no doubt spend most of the film watching and waiting for the man who played Laura Palmer's possessed father to look in a mirror and see the face of Bob. To sum up: this is not one of Pakula's best movies, but definitely worth seeing--if only for the scene where McNichol meets her psychotic, and armed, self in a dream.

Young flautist in New York City joins her teacher's jazz group, which means defying her imposing widower-father and moving into her own apartment in the Village. But an attack on her first night plagues her with a recurring nightmare, sending her to a sleep research center. MGM/UA had no idea how to market this admittedly slow, low-keyed but ambitious thriller from director Alan J. Pakula, and it pretty much vanished. Still, the film presents an intriguing scenario and an interesting take on sleep disorders, though it cheats in its dealings with the heroine's complicated relationship with her chilly papa (it seems almost incestual); also, the finale, which relies on a stunt for its impact, is undercut by sloppy editing. In the lead, Kristy McNichol gives a very good performance despite being somewhat miscast; the actress was eager to shed her tomboy persona, yet she's all wrong when dolled up in period costumes or gowns (she also draws the line at nudity, with the camera dropping to her feet when she gets out of bed after sex). Still, McNichol gives this psychological puzzle an honorable try, and her dreams--four or five scenarios overlapping, intermingling--are fascinating. Michael Small composed the eerie, shimmering score. *** from ****