Dreams Fades Fast

The issue with making a film “of the moment” is that there’s only a short time before any compelling ideas are turned irrelevant by the latest news cycle. Michel Franco’s a filmmaker who’s been able to sidestep being trapped within ceaseless discourse because his previous films spoke to broader topics that weren’t tied to a specific news incident; Franco’s dystopian thriller New Order examined class warfare through allusion and speculation, and his low-key character drama Memory reflected upon mental health issues without direct references to recent legislation. There’s nothing wrong with being set within the current moment, because some films are intended to serve as a time capsule; unfortunately, Franco’s latest issue-based film Dreams is reminiscent of a period in which political polarization meant every debate was filled with radical exaggerations.

Dreams was shot within Mexico City in 2023, and was granted a waiver from the SAG-AFTRA committee to commence production during the strikes. While there’s no reason to believe that Franco would’ve had any greater ambitions had the film been made a few months earlier or later, the relatively small ensemble does feel as if it’s missing a few extra characters who could’ve provided a broader set of perspectives. Franco’s previous work, while small-scale, succeeded in its representation of controversial topics without being overbearing; there was no suggestion that the specific stories he depicted were intended to stand in for the entirety of the issues at hand. Dreams is less of a probing study than it is an obnoxious series of non-committal assertions. Franco’s effort to show that abuse can exist in many forms may have been intended to seem open-minded, but its effect is one of sophomoric cynicism.

Jessica Chastain is cast as the icy philanthropist Jennifer McCarthy, whose humorless demeanor would be a somewhat effective caricature of privileged white benefactors if Dreams was intended to be a straight satire. Jennifer’s family is at the head of a prestigious arts organization with centers in both the United States and Mexico, and both her father Michael (Marshall Bell) and brother Jake (Rupert Friend) are keen to institute programs that’ll demonstrate to the world how charitable they are. However, Jennifer’s plan to showcase the vast extent of her family’s liberal benevolence includes the young Mexican ballet dancer Fernando Rodriquez (Isaac Hernandez), with whom she’s having an affair. Although she’d go out of her way to celebrate Fernando in front of the board’s investors, Jennifer has found it unthinkable that they would ever go public with the relationship.

There’s potential for an interesting study in power dynamics; Fernando’s value to Jennifer is based on his ability to give performances that will earn her respect, even if she can only treat him like a prancing pony. Jennifer’s also bored by the vapid mundanity of her affluent lifestyle, and is visibly bored during her brother’s presentations about the foundation’s long-term goals. Although it’s possible that Jennifer and Fernando see each other as "forbidden fruit,” any scenes between them are devoid of passion. Franco’s insertion of graphic, yet emotionally vacant sex scenes is perhaps the best representation of the film’s thoughtless provocation.

Chastain is a fascinating actress who’s determined to give tough, surly portrayals of empowered women, and has frequently spoken out against Hollywood’s standards of female archetypes. While not always successful, Chastain has managed to select compelling roles that don’t have traditionally endearing qualities; she managed to win an Oscar for The Eyes of Tammy Faye, and gave a performance filled with the type of depth that the rest of the standard biopic lacked. Other than what was presumably a positive collaborative experience with Franco on Memory, it’s hard to imagine why Chastain would sign on to a role like Jennifer in Dreams. Not only does it feel like a muted portrayal of wealthy insularity in a world where Succession and The White Lotus exist, but it has no insights as to why and who Jennifer has tried to prove herself to.

Hernandez is himself a trained dancer, and the film’s best moments are those where he’s allowed to perform his craft without any context regarding his tragic backstory. Franco’s suggestion that Fernando’s a great artist in spite of his heritage, and not because of it, is a tricky parallel to draw in a film that has also implied Jennifer was helpless to overcome the ignorance of her family. As admirable as it is that Dreams avoided any taxing moments of exposition, the lack of information in regards to Jennifer’s relationship with Fernando has made it difficult to engage with.

The clumsiness of Dreams’ set-up is worsened by the downbeat vibes of a film that’s set on an upsetting conclusion that most viewers would be able to see coming. A majority of Dreams’ runtime is taken up by dueling scenes of Jennifer and Fernando in their mutually miserable lives; Jennifer has no shot at being taken seriously within a male-dominated industry, and Fernando has lived with the knowledge that he’ll always be considered to be a second-class citizen. If there’s anyone in the film who’s able to elevate the material, it’s Friend, a great actor whose talents have been wasted by Hollywood after his incredible turn on Homeland. Friend’s portrayal of a daft blowhard is representative of the clear-cut villainy that Dreams seems terrified to distinguish.