Review: ‘The Perfect Sleep’

Style over substance is something I typically do not hold against a film.  If the visuals of the picture are enough to keep the film afloat, then I find it hard to fault the film too hard.  The same goes for substance over style.  However, with ‘The Perfect Sleep,’ we get a loads of style on top of loads of substance, and the result is a well-executed mess.

Influenced as much by William Shakespeare and  Dostoevsky  as it is Raymond Chandler, the film noir at the heart of ‘The Perfect Sleep’ is filled with tragic characters and family squabbles.  Screenwriter Anton Pardoe, who also plays the film’s lead, takes the rather simple idea of a hitman, long since absent from the city of his youth.  Referred to only as The Mad Monk, the protagonist returns to the city to aid his childhood love, Porphyria, played by Roselyn Sanchez, who is in danger from the benevolent Nikolai, the man who raised them both and who may, actually, be The Mad Monk’s biological father.

That is a simple enough synopsis, and, with the superb direction from Jeremy Alter, ‘The Perfect Sleep’ could have easily been a fast-paced throwback to the best of the film noir genre.  Unfortunately, Pardoe isn’t satisfied enough with the fairly linear structure that makes up the film’s backbone.  Instead, he piles on secondary character after secondary character, each with their own backstory, each introduced by Pardoe’s mumbling narration that is far too often a decibel from being inaudible.  Unfortunately, most of these secondary characters become part of the story, but we really don’t know who they are or where they came from.

‘The Perfect Sleep’ is a film whose narrative borderlines a frustrating sense of misapprehension.  Scenes revolving around driveling dialogue only add to any confusion you may have already had about what is going on.  They don’t serve to clarify anything.

Amidst its overbearing structure, Pardoe’s narration continues to drive forward, any passengers who are about to fall out of the boat be damned.  It doesn’t take very long at all, about the time Tony Amendola pops up as the sadistic Dr. Sebastian, before you look around and find yourself completely in a void.  A stylistic void, but a void nonetheless.

Michael Pare pops up a couple of times as a character named Officer Pavlovich, and the actor does everything he can to make it work.  When we first see Pavlovich, he is in a shadowy hotel room with a prostitute.  He shows up once again late in the film wearing a SWAT outfit.  He helps the main character a number of times, but his real purpose is never explained nor even hinted at.  Unfortunately, it is just one, more in a long string of characters who is present for no rhyme or reason.

Alter’s compositions mixed with Charles Papert’s photography make every shot spot-on.  There is some real beauty to behold in the way much of the film looks.  Alter uses his sets and his deep focus to the best of his abilities, making most of the locales seem to go on for miles and miles behind the actors.  Much of the film’s action, and there is loads of it, is shot beautifully, as well, even when you don’t know who is fighting or why or even what the outcome of the fight means.

All of the acting is aces, as well.  Sanchez is stunning, and Patrick Bauchau as Nikolai gives one more impressive performance that makes me wonder why this guy isn’t in more.  Pardoe, while his narration is generally unnerving and frustrating, seems to believe in what he has written, and his performance in the film’s lead role suggests as much.

‘The Perfect Sleep’ looks to good to be discarded as an out-and-out train wreck.  It’s also unfair to write the film off as incoherent.  There is a coherence to it all, even if it’s still stuck in Anton Pardoe’s screenwriter mind.  The film, however, does tell a story that is frustrating at best.  With all of its twists and turns, ‘The Perfect Sleep’ is far too convoluted to be wholly entertaining.  It looks amazing, and, if you are able to enjoy the style over the detracting substance, than this is the film for you.  You might enjoy it, just don’t expect to understand it.