Michel franco (memory) introduced his newest film at the Berlinale this week. dreams.
Look, I really wanted to like this one. As a fan of Jessica Chastain, I was eager to see her take on a layered role, especially under the direction of Michel Franco. Dreams presents itself as a deconstruction of power dynamics, race, and gender, yet it ultimately reinforces the very prejudices it claims to critique.
At first, the film seems like an immigration story, Fernando (Isaac Hernández), a young Mexican ballet dancer, risks everything for a new life in the U.S., believing in the promises of his lover, Jennifer (Chastain), a wealthy American socialite. His journey is brutal, a near-death experience that underscores the relentless cruelty of the border. But as soon as he arrives in San Francisco, Dreams shifts gears and morphs into a study of a toxic relationship that never fully interrogates its own implications.
Chastain’s Jennifer is a fascinating character. cold, obsessive, and manipulative. She loves Fernando, but only within the confines of what’s convenient for her. She supports him financially, but never publicly. She craves his presence, but on her terms. This dynamic should be ripe for critique, but Franco’s detached, almost clinical direction makes it unclear whether the film sees Jennifer as a villain, a victim, or something in between. There’s an emotional distance that prevents Dreams from making a clear statement. Is it about privilege, about exploitation, about power?
It dances around these ideas but never fully engages with them, ultimately leaves its themes frustratingly underdeveloped.
One of the film’s most interesting aspects is how it navigates (or rather, fails to navigate) the racial and class disparities between its protagonists. Jennifer holds all the power in this relationship. not just financially, but socially and emotionally. And yet, Dreams never truly interrogates the imbalance in their dynamic. At times, it almost seems to suggest that Fernando is just as complicit, that the toxicity between them is mutual. But that perspective ignores the glaring reality: Jennifer’s privilege shields her from the consequences of their relationship, while Fernando, as an immigrant and an outsider, is left far more vulnerable.
That said, Chastain delivers a committed performance, embodying Jennifer’s contradictions with sharp precision. There are moments of undeniable tension, especially in the way Jennifer exerts control over Fernando, her affection laced with possessiveness. But even Chastain’s performance can’t save a film that ultimately feels like it’s observing these power imbalances from a distance rather than truly engaging with them.
this could have been a searing exploration of race, power, and desire. Instead, it ends up reinforcing the very dynamics it should be challenging, making its commentary feel hollow rather than provocative.
rating: ★★