Movie Review ~ Sleep (2023)

Some of the most chilling cinematic experiences come from the simplest human acts.  Swimming (Jaws), showering (Psycho), eating (The Menu), watching a scary movie (Scream), or falling asleep (A Nightmare on Elm Street).  I’d rank sleeping over showering as when humans find themselves most vulnerable.  We all must sleep eventually and, therefore, put ourselves in a position where anything could get at us if we don’t take the proper precautions.  I won’t even tell you about how many spiders are said to crawl in our mouths every year while we sleep. If that hasn’t completely freaked you out yet, read on because there’s a new movie, Sleep, from South Korea that will keep you up a bit longer…or at least cause you to give a second thought to who you are sleeping next to every night.

Newlyweds Hyun-su (Lee Sun-kyun, Parasite) and Soo-jin (Jung Yu-mi) have a sizable flat and careers that appear to be taking off as the film begins.  Hyun-su is an actor who plays a role in a popular television series, while Soo-jin is a businesswoman who ensures their house stays organized and on schedule.  Their Pomeranian Pepper keeps them on their toes, and they have begun preparations for their child, which is due in a few short months.  This bliss is shattered when Hyun-su begins exhibiting disturbing behavior during the night.  Talking in his sleep quickly escalates into more sinister, inexplicable behavior that leaves Soo-jin increasingly terrified. 

Fearing for her husband and their unborn child, Soo-jin spirals into a sleepless nightmare, unable to let her husband out of her sight.  Medical help proves worthless, intensifying their fear of ever escaping the horrors that are haunting their once peaceful home.  The deeper the couple investigates Hyun-su’s mysterious malady, the more they realize that it may not be something that is causing the disruption but someone who has found a way inside their tranquility.  A female shaman, Madame Haegoong, summoned by Soo-jin’s mother in a desperate attempt to rid Hyun-su of his affliction, points them in the right direction, but will it be too late to save this once-solid marriage?

I first saw writer/director Jason Yu’s stellar Sleep at the 2023 Toronto International Film Festival as part of their Midnight Madness programming.  I liked it so much that when it popped up as a midnight feature at the Chicago Critics Film Festival this past May, I stayed up past my bedtime again and gave it another look, only deepening my appreciation for Yu’s work.  With its wide release finally arriving, I sat down and watched it for a third time, and it was on this watch when Yu’s central theme of finding balance and unity in a relationship hit home.  Like many horror films coming out of the East, there’s more to Sleep than quality scares, and the messages about the strength of relationships and the resilience of love under unimaginable strain come across as valid and frighteningly realistic.

Yu’s screenplay masterfully balances supernatural horror with a grounded relationship drama. Echoing his time under Oscar-winner Bong Joon-ho’s wing, Yu navigates the film’s tone with precision, blending terror with dark humor.  The standout sequence with Madame Haegoong is a mix of absurdity and dread, showcasing Yu’s ability to surprise and unsettle.  These moments remind attentive viewers that horror can be as much about the unknown as it is about human vulnerability.

In his final role before his tragic passing in December 2023, Lee Sun-kyun delivers a haunting performance.  The transition from a loving husband to an unrecognizable nocturnal menace is effortless, as is his internal torment after each occurrence.  Jung Yu-mi is equally riveting as Soo-jin, first embodying the playful mood of a wife and expectant mother with little to worry over before switching to the unraveling mental state of a woman pushed to the brink.  Their dynamic as a couple, fraught with fear and love, carries the film’s emotional weight, and if we didn’t believe in their connection, the film wouldn’t work.

The production design is just as important as the casting.  Once an inviting and cozy space, the couple’s apartment slowly becomes a suffocating prison.  Creating a claustrophobic atmosphere for the audience is difficult, especially without them realizing it, but before you know it, you’re neck deep in escalating tension with no hope of escape.  The sound design, from the hum of a freezer to the sharp jangle of the shaman’s bells, all act as pieces of a sonic story Yu layers on top of the visuals to create a psychological unease.

Its underlying message about love and connection helps to set Sleep apart from typical horror fare, as does its ability to frighten without resorting to cheap scares. Yu’s theory that even in the face of supernatural terror, strong relationships can survive unimaginable strain comforts us. In that way, the fear Yu creates in Sleep isn’t just about what happens when the lights are turned off but what can happen if we lose those we care about most.