Making its world debut at the North Bend Film Fest, Model Home is the first feature from director Patrick Cunningham. The film is a story of psychological horror set against the backdrop of the failing American Dream. Camila (Monique Gabriela Curnen) is a single mother who, along with her son, Jaime (Luke Ganalon) is hired to live in and decorate a home sitting empty in the aftermath of the housing crisis. Basically, the market had taken such a hit that people were hesitant to start buying again, and the real estate agent (played to perfection by the great Kathy Baker) thought that having a lived-in, welcoming home available to show might entice more buyers. The opportunity seems like a dream come true for Camila and Jaime. A beautiful home, rent free – it’s the chance to start over and to live a life they have only dreamed of. As the story goes on, we begin to understand that Camila has a history of mental illness and that her bipolar disorder is once again presenting a hurdle for the small family. Jaime does his best to support his mother and keep her on her medication, but Camila eventually succumbs to her demons and begins to lose control over herself and her life.

Model Home is a horror story focusing on what can happen when someone else’s nightmare grows to encapsulate everything around them. Though Camila has the best intentions and genuinely wants to provide a good life for her son, her mental illness is running the show.  As a result, the film has some very surreal moments. Moments that don’t quite feel like a dream, but feel more like an unreal, skewed extension of reality.

The audience gets to witness this descent into madness through the eyes of Jaime. He is our guide as the world around him changes as the result of his mother’s illness. It makes this version of a nightmare particularly unique because the film isn’t terribly surreal or trippy. We don’t see the world from Camila’s perspective – we see her impact upon it, and upon her family. It makes for a tense film, as our anxiety grows to match hers, but also a heartbreaking one, as we see Jaime try to manage things far beyond his ability.

Setting this story of madness against the backdrop of a nightmare version of the American dream only adds to its surrealism. The idea of bringing in low-income families as professional stagers speaks volumes about the economic divide in this country. Camila and Jaime, a poor family of color, are being offered a taste of the good life – something they have only imagined. But this access is fleeting – an illusion. They are staying in this home and keeping it up and presentable to bring in buyers. They are playing pretend to attract the people who “should” be living in this development.

The area surrounding the home offers a brutally honest reflection of the divide between this beautiful fantasy and the reality that many families face. Outside the walls of Carolina and Jaime’s luxurious house, the neighborhood is a ghost town. Row upon row of empty houses surrounded by a desert wasteland. It wonderfully plays into the isolation present in the story. These two only have each other and the rest of the world has seemingly pushed them aside.

Model Home is a story of false fronts – beautiful facades masking the deterioration underneath. The illusion of a dream that hides a nightmare underneath. Despite a few minor stumbles, Cunningham has created a film as thought-provoking as it is unsettling.