Review by John P. Harvey.
What happens when an irresistible weakness meets an immovable objection? The answer depends very much on direction as well as interpretation; and so it is in Dream Scenario, whose direction leads to any number of interpretations of the film’s theme. Whether the self-indulgent sensitivities of the many override the rights of one to ordinary day-to-day existence is a question that the film seems to concern itself with, yet without delving deeply into it.
When Paul Matthews (Nicolas Cage, in possibly his most suitable role to date), who likes others to know that he has a PhD and is a tenured professor, learns that he has been appearing in the dreams of others, he is gratified just for the newfound recognition.
But Paul’s ineffectualness in real life seems universally reflected in his dream appearances.
When dozens of media outlets take an interest in the phenomenon, Paul envisages using his now universal recognisability to obtain a publishing deal for the book he is desperate to publish but has yet to write.
With that in mind — and although his wife, Janet (Julianne Nicholson), cautions that they’re dealing with the unknown — Paul agrees to meet a P.R. agency interested to use his recognisability in dreams to promote commercial products.
Paul thereby meets Molly (Dylan Gelula), the first to describe his having an active role in dreams. In fact, it is a highly charged role. And their meeting seemingly leads to an alteration in Paul’s dream roles that nobody is happy with. When his own younger daughter, Sophie (Lily Bird), begins fearing him, he is, as always, at a loss.
A major trouble with the film, as I see it, is that it makes no evident connections between the several things that it seems to be concerning itself with. Paul’s pusillanimity, his lack of moral fibre, his craving for recognition of qualities at best peripheral to himself, and his willingness to take undue advantage of happenstance: these should have some effect on the outcome of the film. Yet… they hardly seem to. Similarly, others’ peculiarly one-sided reactions to the content of their own dreams impinge heavily on Paul and his family — without resulting in significant self-appraisal by anybody involved. Without tethering such events to cause or effect, the film effectively undermines its role in communicating the film’s intended theme.
More problematic still is the film’s glossing over all reasoning behind various people’s treatment of somebody who has done nothing beyond appearing in their dreams. What story could these people have told themselves, or believed, to justify behaviour that is overtly discriminatory, not to say spiteful? We don’t know. The film could have addressed the ways in which people construct justifications for ugly behaviour. Instead, it omits references to justifications altogether.
The story has its humorous moments and some good dialogue, and it’s very well acted and produced, with an original concept. It’s a disappointment, then, to see its imaginative and promising premise segue merely into predictable mob irrationality and misuse of antisocial media before a denouement that’s again causally and thematically disconnected from the rest.