The Science of Sleep

I guess we could start with screwball comedy. The film vaguely resembles Annie Hall; albeit one rewritten by Tristan Tzara, directed by Luis Buñuel with sets and props by Joseph Cornell and Mike Kelly. And sure, throw Duchamp, Magritte, Beck, Breton and Dalí into the mix for good measure, but all this name dropping and genre marking simply ignores the singular talents of writer/director Michel Gondry. The Science of Sleep is charming, hilarious, poignant, sad, confusing, glorious, fantastical, inventive, mesmerizing, playful, hilarious, poignant, sad, goofy, silly, serious, beautiful, ethereal. It’s like pixie stix wrapped in cellophane, dipped in chocolate and covered with cloud fluff. This is the first movie Netflix has sent me that I will turn around and purchase. The commentary track alone is worth the price of admission. I love this movie. If I had been smart enough to drive the eight miles to Uptown, it would have been my best film of the year. This is why I like to watch; c’est mon dada.