This was yet another film that I had watched before. I don’t know if I should be criticized for selecting so many films that I had already seen, but ultimately I had to write well over 30 of these things and it was probably best to save some of my energy towards research for, … ‘later’ entries in this series. MPI Media Group secured the US rights and gave the film a limited theatrical run in October of 2012. Three months later MPI released the film on DVD and Blu-Ray through its horror film subsidiary Dark Sky Films. The film can also be streamed on a number of different platforms including Amazon Prime, Tubi, Vudu, Kanopy and more.
It’s director Jaume Balagueró is still best known in the US for [REC], which gained enough popularity to generate an awful Hollywood remake, in addition to several sequels. While this particular film is not as well known in the States, it’s still rather easy to find. According to worldcat.org, there were copies being held at 4 public libraries within a 20 mile radius of where I live. Within a 40 mile radius there were 24 libraries. I should point out that MPI Media Group is based in the suburbs of Chicago, which may have some impact on these numbers. But of course I didn’t plan on watching this until the spring of 2020, when its availability at local libraries meant absolutely nothing. Thus I was relegated to watching this film for free on Tubi.
While I’m fairly confident that Tubi had secured the proper licensing to make it available, even if they hadn’t, it wouldn’t have bothered me that much. I’ll admit that I don’t normally adopt a negative perspective towards the practice of posting full films online in defiance of copyright laws. My general attitude towards such acts is one of passive ambivalence. However during the corona-virus crisis, I found it possible to view people who do such things in a distinctly positive light. To me they were offering greater possibilities for cultural exposure in a world characterized by home bound restlessness and significant financial insecurity. Furthermore I don’t wish to view films purely as objects designed to generate corporate wealth. Such a notion will only serve to completely debase them of any cultural worth. Those who make possible the consumption of films outside of traditional commerce transactions are combating against such a debasement, even if you don’t completely agree with what they do.
While it would be foolish to totally dismiss the notion that a fascinating film could be made without much of a narrative, I nonetheless find films that offer a really engaging and compelling narrative hard to resist. For me a good narrative offers an excellent foundation for all of the film’s other elements; the acting, the dialogue, the camerawork, the imagery and so forth. And as I mentioned with my previous entry a good narrative doesn’t have to be noticeably complex. In Mientras Duermes the basic narrative premise was simple, elegant and yet intriguing enough to grab one’s attention. The film focused very narrowly on its central conflict, that being a battle of wills between a sullen, sad-sack concierge who was content on making everyone around him miserable, and a female tenant who exuded an unflappable, unbreakable buoyant disposition in spite of life’s troubles. If you can imagine extending the Alan Arkin portion of Thirteen Conversations About One Thing (which was easily the best part of that film) to a full length film while injecting it with copious amounts of depravity, you would get something akin to Mientas Duermes.
I liked the pace of the story. Granted it did start out a little slow and was careful not to reveal too much too soon. Early in the film, it was hard to get a feel for what type of film this was. But once the story’s exposition got to a certain point, the film picked up momentum and showed a wonderfully progressive touch. The narrative was constructed in a way where the longer one watched the film, the more horrid and disturbing that it got. This ultimately created some engagement whereby the viewer might ponder how much more horrifying it would get, with some dark thoughts actually coming to fruition. The film also effectively built the tension in the story until one got to the scene where César was trapped in Clara’s apartment which was especially nail-biting.
Ultimately the film became a very sneaky, albeit slow-building horror/thriller. It was effectively chilling while containing some delightfully entertaining dark humor. But largely it was notable for its seemingly unrestrained desire to be downright unsettling and outright shocking, which made it stand apart from other entries in the horror genre. This was not a horror film that attempted to frighten you with its grotesque visuals, but which rather aimed to get under your skin with the increasingly creepy, brute, and morbid actions of its main character. There was a certain subtlety to this film that most horror films lack. I also found the perspective in the narrative interesting in that it cast the villain as the protagonist for the story. It appeared to identify and sympathize with César, to the point where it extended the character’s mission to the film’s ending, one that seemed designed to bring misery to those who watch the film. And don’t get me wrong, I liked the ending. It was the perfect way to bring the film’s premise to a close. Apart from the film’s repetitive nature and its focus on the mundane, daily rituals of its characters, which in the beginning could be rather trite, the narrative was well thought out and executed brilliantly.
A great deal of excellent thought also went into the cinematography. The framing and mise-en-scène were superb and showed plenty of flair with their perspectives. This can be seen in the numerous shots from the building’s elevator which offered a good view of César in the lobby, as well as the refrigerator shot where César staged the rotten apple. This latter shot highlighted the film’s very intimate focus and great attention to detail. The camera movements were also noticeably graceful. The lengthy segment of Clara dancing in her apartment was a great way to capture the type of personality that César had pitted himself against. The camerawork here felt free and whimsical as if it was dancing with the character. This was then wonderfully contrasted with a stern, conscientious pan down to show César lying underneath her bed. I even enjoyed the film’s use of montage segments which accelerated the pace of the story.
While I might argue that the cinematography was more adequate than exceptional, the filmmakers showed great talent in adapting their tactics to the story. The rapid fire jump cutting, exquisite detail and somewhat unbalanced camera pans when Clara discovered the bugs in her apartment, was a good application of your standard horror film features. In the confrontation scene between César and Marcos, the film employed maneuvers more fitting of an action film with its jerky camera movements, slight Dutch angles and short alternating takes. I was impressed that even during such a sequence the film was able to capture some well framed images. Furthermore the shot of Marcos nervously following César into the bedroom did a great job of foreshadowing the violent nature of this meeting, and the later pull back shot of the bathtub was a thing of art. There was even some modest flair in the jump cut transitions, especially the one between Ursula sitting on the balcony and a potted plant hitting a car from the roof. This cut practically begged the viewer to ponder the depths of the film’s diabolical intent. Overall the cinematography was well balanced between displaying a charming, enticing style, while maintaining enough restraint to allow its acting to have some impact.
I generally think that the acting was a rather understated strength of the film. Even from some of the minor roles there were good performances. Margarita Roset and Petra Martínez both did a great job of adding some emotional intensity to the film. In fact in the scene where César cruelly insulted Verónica, Martínez was spectacular in making this exchange utterly heartbreaking. She really made you feel sympathy for the character. I also enjoyed Iris Almeida Molina’s performance, especially the youthful, bratty manner in which Ursula toyed with César in the beginning of the film. The fact that our villain was in danger of being caught by a child added a rather humorous, quirky element to the film and made it more interesting. Beyond this though I have to give credit to Almeida for playing her role with great conviction in her final confrontation with César.
As for the main characters, there’s little to be said about Alberto San Juan. He didn’t appear until the film’s second half, and was at best effective in adding another voice of skepticism when it came to César’s behavior. While I liked the subtle way in which he questioned César during their first meeting, I got the feeling that the real reason for his character’s existence was to bring the dramatic tension to a boil. Here San Juan did a fine job, even if the performance had a certain utilitarian vibe about it. Marta Etura did a great job of crafting a character who represented the perfect foil for César’s aim. I liked the emotional depth in her performance, as well as her excellent physical acting which showed the lingering effects of what was happening to Clara. I also thought highly of how she handled Clara’s relationship with César. This was the one aspect of the film that might have required some significant suspension of disbelief, and yet Etura handled this credibly and truly made you believe in her ability to easily shrug off all the bad things that were happening to her. The best part of Etura’s performance was the fact that she made Clara seem so warm, likable and innocent, that you didn’t want anything awful to happen to her. This made the film even more wicked and demented given how it ended.
Luis Tosar crafted an interesting character and managed to stay consistent with César’s rather idiosyncratic mental illness, which appeared for the most part to be a dysthymia-esque disorder. I found it amusing that when he saw Clara for the last time, Tosar couldn’t even crack a smile at what he had managed to achieve. The accuracy in how this moment was performed further established Tosar’s commitment in capturing his character’s dire and unavoidable hopelessness. Tosar also did well with the small details of his performance, as seen with his sudden nervousness when Clara spoke of spending time away from her apartment. Granted César’s illness did limit the theatrical impact that Tosar could have on the film. He made César appear so even-keeled that it was difficult to comprehend his motivation.
And this ultimately was the most baffling weakness of the film, attempting to figure out why César did what he did. He clearly didn’t take any pleasure in seeing his plans succeed. And if he truly took modest comfort in other people’s misery, the world should already offer plenty of despair to where it would be unnecessary to ruin the lives of those around him. One could also view César as an utter idiot who never realized how lucky he was. It is not the lack of happiness that wrecks the soul, but rather its loss. And happiness was not the only emotion that he struggled to generate. He seemed incapable of feeling any remorse, regret, or sympathy for others. This was a character study of a psychopath; a person of pure evil. In the crooked math of his zero-sum game, he stole from his victims something that he could never truly possess and inflicted upon them something that he could never truly experience himself. Mientas Duermes was certainly not a delightfully cheerful film, but it was still interesting and well executed enough to be considered an incredible achievement.