Review: Sleeping Beauty

Unfortunately there are films so dreadful that writing a review for them feels like adding to the time which has been wasted in viewing the film itself.  First-time director Julia Leigh’s Sleeping Beauty  is a perfect example of this.  Following  money-troubled student Lucy (Emily Browning), Sleeping Beauty travels blindly down several roads without any perceivable destination in mind.  Leigh is particularly disdainful of explaining her film, but there’s much to believe that the creator herself is clueless about exactly what she was attempting to accomplish here.

Emily Browning & Julia Leigh discuss Sleeping Beauty at Curzon Renoir

Sleeping Beauty‘s first scene illustrates much of what is to follow, as Lucy is shown swallowing a tube with a small balloon on its end and once in place, the clinician pumps it with air whilst Lucy gags away.  Shot from one continuous angle, without a score and lacking context it is the first of a series of bizarre and mostly throw-away scenes that pad the main story that Leigh is trying to tell.  Perhaps if the central story made all this pretentious window-dressing worth wading through, it could be forgiven as art house licence, but sadly there is no redemption to be had here.  Through bizarre interactions with her housemates, co-workers, friends and random sexual encounters the viewer learns very little about Lucy beyond the apparent fact that there is very little to sympathise with.  Without reason to invest in the character of Lucy, Browning’s performance and exploitation is wasted.  There is a very thin line here between Lucy’s self-exploitation and that of Browning herself.  That this film comes from a woman is baffling.  Leigh explained in a Q&A that she wanted to illustrate that elderly man are still sexual creatures that want to enjoy the beauty of youth.  As this is a truly earth shattering revelation, Lucy becomes an erotic waitress for the private dinner parties of wealthy, white-haired men.

Being paid handsomely for her role, Lucy goes on to serve another role for her employer, Clara (Rachel Blake).  She agrees to be paid to sleep at her employer’s home.  Once drinking a hot, tea-like brew concocted by Clara, Lucy sleeps soundly and is totally unresponsive.  On each occasion, one of the older men from the initial dinner party enters and interacts with her naked, limp body.  Thankfully the one house rule bars penetration, but as the men are left fully unmonitored they’re free to have their way with the helpless Lucy.  There are three  different versions of this scene and all quite disturbing.  Still without any sense of direction, at this point watching the film becomes not just boring, but uncomfortable and regrettable.  The job becomes Lucy’s top priority and while she is clearly desperate for the money, is seen to burn a $100 note.  Leigh and Browning stated that this is to illustrate that Lucy is not beholden to the money, however there are no other motivations even remotely hinted over the course of the film.

It’s not too great a stretch to view Clara as a representation of Leigh and Browning as her Lucy, yet Browning’s willing participation in Sleeping Beauty is somewhat depressing.  Had this been penned and directed by a man, the backlash would be easily predictable, but the fact that a woman was at the helm is troubling.  While it can be commendable to strip down for your art, both literally and figuratively, it’s difficult to see how any actress could deem this script worthy of such exposure.  Lucy is no more than a disturbed, emotionally damaged piece of meat fed to aged alpha males.  Astonishingly, some have called Sleeping Beauty a “powerful” film but that’s partially true: Sleeping Beauty is powerfully repulsive, powerfully pretentious and powerfully disappointing. 2/10