“Fever Dream” has become a similarly overused term in film marketing and criticism lately, often applied to broken storytelling techniques and ambiguous environments, usually in the case of anything strange or bizarre. As the title of a recent feature from Peruvian director Claudia Llosa, it serves the same loose, furry purpose, though not particularly appropriate: a psychological thriller where two mothers fear breaking their children’s souls, the film’s narrative is less revealing as a fever than a nightmare. See, though its foggy, sunstroke styling gives it a certain serious quality.
The original Spanish title of the film, co-adapted by the author Losar with the famous source novel by Argentine author Samantha Shoeblin, is rather more provocative. Translated as “The Rescue Distance”, it refers to the protagonist’s constant mental calculation of how long it will take to reach his daughter in an emergency. Is it better to get lost or do they become strangers to you? These disgusting elements are often lost in the semi-mysterious mockery of “Fever Dream,” which is ultimately a curious marriage between Loser’s movie signature mystery and the trappings of environmental consciousness and Netflix’s real look: of course, it will be a few weeks after premiering in San Sebastian. Will be released on October 13 on global platforms.
Seven quiet years have passed since Losa’s first English-language feature, “Alfat,” which, despite starring Jennifer Connelly and Celian Murphy, was not the career-changer she had hoped for: boy drama, this is her Oscar-nominated film “The Milk of The critical goodwill gained from “Thor” has been greatly diminished. While it may be more exploratory as a character study and more suspenseful as a thriller, “Fever Dream” may represent a commercial breakthrough, even bringing the director closer to home turf: not Peru, but Chile, whose sun-kissed, rock-stained country film Consistently gives gorgeous backgrounds. (Pablo Lorraine has a co-producing credit.) But the exact setting remains unclear: it’s not a story of certainty from the start.
A troubled, sinister opening sequence threatens a full-fledged horror film, the beginnings of which paralyze the extreme close-ups and slags of human body parts. A woman is dragged across the floor of a damp, dark forest by invisible forces when a little boy’s voice advises her to stay awake: “We all see what you see.” It will take us a while to figure out how these misleading figures turn into procedures in the light of day in the real world মতো like the same woman, Amanda (Spanish star Maria Valvarde), came to an ideal rural cottage for an extended vacation, her youngest daughter Nina (Guillermina Saribis) ). Soon, their friendly, lively neighbor Carolla (Dolores Fonji) brings a column of drinking water, with a warning not to believe what comes out of the tap: surprise at a farm house, perhaps, although the first indication that there is something wrong with the area
The two women shut it down, although the film only established their friendship when the timeline split into Carolla’s past, when she lived in the house where Amanda lived. Then, she and her husband Omar (German Palacios) planned to breed a show horse, before the mysterious death of a stallion threw them into a rut. Meanwhile, in a seemingly twisted twist of fate, their youngest son David (Marcelo Misinux) suddenly and seriously falls ill, on which the local faith healer (Christina Banegas) suggested a “spiritual migration”, transferring the diseased part of his soul to another body.
David survives, although according to Carolla, the big, near-rare protein (an impressive Emilio Vodanovich) he has become is not his son. Amanda listens to her story with proper skepticism, although she didn’t realize long ago that something was wrong with the boy, and feared that even a part of the sweet, loving Nina’s soul might be lost. Yet as you might sit in an effectively boring study of parental neglect by the “fever dream” delusion, Llosa finds another hesitant patty to get us out of the bottom: is there really anything, literally, in the water? Are poisons sprayed on crops, and carried by worms and insects, not only unnatural but also unusual?
On paper, the confrontation between nature and human nature in Schwablin’s novels is apt for Llosa, whose earlier films of the soil often centered on that very excitement. Yet the more “Fever Dream” tries to interpret his story and ground it in sincere environmental panic, the more unexpectedly it is confined to obscurity, to the point of obscurity: thin drawn characters have admirable spirits to speak inside or outside their bodies, so their growing spirituality The more serious the filmmakers take the crisis, the harder it is. Which is embarrassing, because as a purely atmospheric practice, “Fever Dream” is often a product. Oscar Foura’s seductive lensing refers to the mystery hidden in adjacent shadows and dark sunlight, while Natalia Holt’s viola-heavy score is a matter of mournful, anxious beauty. Here’s half the good film: where the rest have moved is another mystery.