Rating: 3.5/5 stars

Kristoffer Borgli (“Sick of Myself”) presents a world where dreams surpass the science of psychoanalysis and the mysticism of dream prophecies. Rather, his latest film “Dream Scenario” depicts dreams as ambiguously true and imaginary. Thousands of people attest to seeing the figure of biology professor Paul Matthews (Nicolas Cage, “Dead by Daylight”) in their dreams. Matthews entertains this phenomenon as a media sensation until the content of their dreams turns grim. Initially Matthews appears as a bystander; eventually his figure strangles, stabs and gropes the dreamers. The world turns Matthews into an outcast while he struggles to process the absurdity of his whole situation.

Unlike other films’ depictions of dreams, Borgli refuses to visually distinguish between dreams and reality, which renders the film’s sequence into what Variety’s critic called a “mind game.” While context sometimes assists the audience—such as when Matthews’ students relay their Matthews-involved dreams in lieu of his lecture—as the film progresses it boggles the viewer’s sense of what are the characters’ dreams and what is diegetic and even whether there is a difference. The film’s absurdist premise, along with notorious “mega-actor” Cage as the protagonist, only deepens this mind game. 

For example, after Matthews discovers a colleague stole his idea for his book-in-progress, he visits the apartment of one of his students to discuss something in private. She hesitantly lets him in. He then blows up at her, cursing and accusing her of some unspoken misdeed. He strangles her to death—until the film cuts away and reveals Matthews’ pent-up rage was in fact that of his dream alter-ego. Several scenes like this disrupt the film’s second half. The viewer adopts the same confusion as Matthews’ peers as to whether he really is the Freddy Krueger protégé the world sees him as. 

As the world turns on Matthews, however, the film’s absurdism gradually frustrates the viewer, as even the non-dream world starts to act unbearable. Even prior to the dream plot kicking off, the film has a sense of delusion and un-resolution that takes too long for it to address. Why is it only in the second half that we finally see Matthews’ dreams, an aspect that would seem obvious to contrast with the film’s whole premise? 

Cage’s performance convinces the viewer that he can play a harmless academic searching for recognition in a universe that grants him this wish with a genie’s twist. If not for his beard, Cage’s recognizable face would counteract his character’s warmth, but his voice emits a careful Mr. Rogers-esque morality that slowly deteriorates into disgruntlement. Borgli oddly does Matthews dirty, with his colleagues at a dinner scene calling him behind his back a “remarkable nobody,” an “awkward guest at a party nobody knows” and “kinda boring.” 

In fact, the very morning before I watched the film, I encountered a similar figure as Matthews in my own dream. This coincidence may chock down to Matthews looking remarkably similar to my optometrist, but it points to Matthews’ ubiquitous normalcy and decidedly non-Cageness. Your critic waited impatiently for Matthews to unleash his inner Cage and have his “Not the bees” level freak-out, though even in Matthews’ most messy breakdowns he stays human. 

While the idea of a global “dream epidemic” is intriguing, the film’s true absurdity is how the world could reject Matthews’ pleas and assume this phenomenon could only be a dream-traveling sociopath. The characters’ cruelty toward Matthews ushers in the film’s political edge. The swarm of tweets calling out Matthews’ dream persona is reminiscent of #MeToo. A group therapist’s attempt to re-introduce Matthews’ students to their professor, resulting in them walking out in fear, resembles the practice of walkouts on controversial guest speakers. Matthews’ PR consultants even name-drop cancel culture after he gets banished from his college and his journalist wife (Julianne Nicholson, “Janet Planet”) gets dropped from a reporting project. 

The film’s politics do not cater to the anti-cancel-culture crowd, however; the consultants suggest Matthews network with Jordan Peterson and the alt-right crowd—whom they quickly rephrase as “the anti-establishment” people—in what is clearly the film preventing its message from being misappropriated. Still, the film fails to be substantive in its addressing of cancel-culture. Matthews’ cancellation on campus even stands as some of the worst writing in the film. The students merely paint “LOSER” on his car and silently approach him on his way from the group therapy failure. They do not levy any insults or even calls for Matthews to address anything. Instead, they mutter unintelligible things and yell “Bye-bye!” when he drives off. Similarly, Matthew’s emotional apology to the world provokes not a single empathetic response, to the point in which even his own family calls it “embarrassing.” 

The film’s awkward allegory leaves the question as to what it actually has to say about canceling and public shaming. Unlike the so-called victims of cancel culture, Matthews himself does nothing malicious, yet his peers react so unrealistically. To compare it with the real world renders the film moot to the discussion. The film does not need to paint the message as visible as the “LOSER” on Matthews’ car, but for a topic so nuanced it eschews any movement further than making the viewer feel bad for his predicament. 

In short, Borgli succeeds in making you pity Matthews, but he does not give you much to think deeply about him. Matthews is one poor sucker; he visits his daughter’s play recital—aptly “Alice in Wonderland,” for how ridiculous everyone acts to him—and the crowd turns into an angry mob when he accidentally cuts a lady’s arm. The scene is straight out of “Curb Your Enthusiasm.”

“Dream Scenario” ends with a sincere, uplifting resolution it desperately needed, too much of a twist to spoil but emotional enough that your critic physically felt their heart soften. This, along with its clever black comedy, makes up for its awkward plot and fuzzy politics. The film’s themes of cancellation and downward spiral result in something similar to 2022’s “Tár.” “Tár,” however, portrayed its subject with artful complexity and a healthy mixture of realism and comedy. What made “Tár” a masterpiece, “Dream Scenario” unfortunately lacks.

Image from A24 via YouTube.com