The Science of Sleep

by Ari

The Science of Sleep is the eccentric new romantic drama from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind director Michel Gondry. Written and directed by Gondry (taking a break from Kaufman’s sensibilities), The Science of Sleep is an imaginative and affecting story of expression, dreams, art, and love, an exploration of the mind and heart that works as a strong companion piece to his previous effort. Focusing a narrative on the nature of dreams is no easy task, but Gondry successfully creates a moving and surprisingly realistic portrait of people with deep, personal complexity, and their difficulties expressing it. Gondry’s two lead characters played by Gael Garcia Bernal and Charlotte Gainsbourg are the most interesting and fully-realized individuals I’ve seen in film this year, no small feat considering intelligent films like Conversations with other Women and A Prairie Home Companion have already presented such rich and rewarding relationships. The Science of Sleep is as much about innocence as it is emotional pain, a commentary on the fight for happiness and fulfillment that so many people face, while being a layered and metaphorical work that leaves room for interpretation. Gondry is quickly becoming one of the most appealing filmmakers working today, and The Science of Sleep is a major work, one that confirms his place among the most notable voices in contemporary film.

Stephane (Bernal) is a young illustrator, aspiring artist who moves back from Mexico to his mother’s apartment complex in Paris, looking for new opportunities to begin a lucrative career. He believes his mother has set-up an excellent job for him, but it’s actually just tedious work that involves no creativity whatsoever. Stephane’s art is something he calls ‘disastrology’ - numerous illustrations of real disasters and tragedies that he believes evokes the emotional difficulties of life. Stephane isn’t exactly depressive, but his art conveys his many complex reactions to his experiences, especially that of his father’s recent death. At heart, he’s a wildly exuberant young man with a talent for mechanics and oddball ideas, a dreamer who spends considerable time contemplating the meaning of his thoughts, images, and feelings in his sleep. There are of course two styles at play in The Science of Sleep, his dreams and reality, which intertwine throughout the course of the film. The reality is the plot of sorts, with his dreams acting as a commentary on what his character is facing in his actual life.

Something extraordinary does happen to Stephane, and it’s the purest joy a person can experience: Love. He meets his new neighbor Stephanie (Gainsbourg) without revealing where he actually lives, and tries to impress her with his strange humor and even stranger interests. There’s a genuine connection. He’s creative, as is she, and a very beautiful, if somewhat peculiar relationship grows. Stephane and Stephanie are similar in many ways, especially in their strain to express their true desires. Stephane tries. He tries as hard as he can with his innocent affection and quirky charms, but he faces a terrible difficulty: Himself. Stephane is like a small boy, innocent like a child, lacking the emotional maturity needed for someone like Stephanie. He doubts himself, confused by his dreams, lost within the insecurities he tries to overcome. His character is more self-absorbed than he realizes, and his imagination runs wild sometimes for the better, but much of the time for the worse.

What makes it so moving is that she loves him dearly. She loves his humor, his playfulness, his sense of creativity. She herself is the same, only with more self-restraint and self-awareness. She’s an adult, and behaves like one. She can’t have a relationship dependent on taking care of him. She needs the maturity and love of someone who cares about her in a growing, complex, and adult manner. Being entertained by his childlike innocence isn’t enough, and he knows it. Stephane knows he has that barrier to cross, that emotional maturity to attain. He may entertain and charm her with his sleepwalking mistakes (hilarious), outlandish, imaginary inventions, and squishy, naive romantic promises, but it’s simply not enough to sustain a real relationship. While Stephane struggles to find that adult understanding, his dreams let loose. Gondry displays a fantastic visual artistry with these sequences, which have a handmade quality, from the stop-motion effects to the arts & crafts like sets. Like any dream, the sequences are loose, disjointed, and surreal, a wonderful representation of the unpredictable feelings, thoughts, sounds, and images that come to mind during a good (or nightmarish) sleep. Stephane tries to master his dreams in order to understand what to do with the woman he loves, and the many set-pieces are visually inventive and emotionally powerful. Gondry puts as much effort into his visuals as he does performance, and his vision is vast and fascinating.

The actors are exceptional. Bernal is one of the most talented young actors in the world, and this film allows him a great opportunity to demonstrate is abilities. Stephane is an entertaining and delightful young man, but also a character of tremendous sadness and conflict. You’re completely invested in him, making everything seem so important and immediate. You love him because of his exuberance, but you pity him because of his self-absorbed tendencies. He’s harmless, but a chore, an uneven and befuddled man who can’t quite grasp what he truly desires. Gainsbourg is sophisticated and beautiful, a deep and lovely character with her own repressed feelings and emotional obstacles. Their connection is real and romantic, beautiful yet painful. The hilarity that ensues because of their more unusual sensibilities is priceless, even if the relationship grows into something far more profound than simple laughs.

The Science of Sleep is magical and original, a film that will please you while breaking your heart. This has one of the absolute best conclusions I’ve seen in quite some time, an unforgettable end to a terrific work of art.