Reviews
‘Somnium’ – Disjointed Genre Movie Manifests Hollywood Nightmares [Review]
The age-old maxim about how writers should “write what they know” can be a double-edged sword. Sometimes, what you know doesn’t exactly make for engaging storytelling, and I’ve always been of the opinion that creativity doesn’t necessarily depend on life experience.
Thankfully, the horror genre makes it easy for storytellers to add speculative flair to their autobiographical yarns, and this is definitely the case with indie director Racheal Cain and her debut feature Somnium. A deeply personal passion project over 12 years in the making, Somnium combines Racheal’s own experience of moving to LA and trying to build a life for herself in the entertainment industry with fears derived from a childhood immersed in manifestation doctrine and sensory deprivation tanks.
After years of saving up money and pitching her project to investors – as well as setting up a surprisingly successful Kickstarter campaign back in 2018 after shooting the flashback scenes guerilla style, Cain is finally unleashing her long-gestating thriller on the world with the help of Yellow Veil Pictures.
In the finished film, we follow small town girl and aspiring actress Gemma (Chloë Levine) as she moves out to Hollywood in order to chase her dreams. Unable to find a conventional job to keep herself afloat in between auditions, she accepts a position as a “sleep sitter” at a mysterious sleep clinic that promises to bring dreams to life through experimental treatments. Unfortunately, side effects may include a mind-bending dose of surreal terror as dreams begin to bleed into reality.
The story of a starry-eyed ingénue stumbling into Hollywood’s seedy underbelly has admittedly been done to death at this point, but Somnium stands out from the crowd due to its polished visuals and remarkably charming lead character. Levine is an absolute delight to watch as Gemma, with the actress repeatedly elevating scenes whether they’re intimate flashbacks or emotional breakdowns resulting from her character having encountered otherworldly shadow creatures beyond her comprehension.
The film also looks much more expensive than it is, with stylish cinematography and impressive practical effects being used to bring a recurring humanoid nightmares to life. Unfortunately, it seems that Cain was more interested in the slice-of-life elements of Gemma’s story than exploring the legitimately interesting mystery that she sets up at the Somnium sleep clinic. This means that nearly all of Somnium’s most interesting elements are relegated to the background of an overly familiar character study.
From deeply uninteresting flashback sequences to common film school tropes like forcing us to accompany Gemma through the entirety of her morning routine (as well as silly moments like having her wistfully reminisce over old diary entries), it’s clear that Somnium’s script needed a few more drafts before it was ready for shooting.
At the very least, it might have been a good idea to edit the picture down even further, as it feels like there are three films fighting for control of the narrative here. One of them is a middle-of-the-road drama about a naïve girl recovering from a not-so-traumatic breakup, the next is a familiar tale about an aspiring actress trying to make it in a hostile town, and the final one is a sci-fi horror flick about a sleep clinic with a dark secret. Unfortunately, the last option is simultaneously the most compelling and the one that Cain seems the least interested in developing to a satisfying conclusion.
And since we’ve seen better versions of this story before in films like The Neon Demon, MaXXXine and even Netflix’s Brand New Cherry Flavor, it’s a real shame that the director would sideline the most original element of her screenplay. There are plenty of eerily effective background scares here, as well as philosophical musings about dreams and reality that feel uncharacteristically poignant for a horror flick, so it’s not like Cain is incapable of making an effective scary movie. That’s why I find it so baffling that Gemma’s spooky job isn’t the main focus of the film like the marketing suggests.
I won’t get into spoilers, but this becomes especially frustrating when Somnium rushes through its horror elements only to resolve everything with an ending so comically upbeat that I initially thought Cain was preparing us for a twist where Gemma is somehow still undergoing treatment at the clinic. And though I appreciate the positive message about achieving your dreams in face of horrific adversity (especially in a genre so used to downer endings), I have quite a few issues with the film’s portrayal of manifestation as anything other than a dangerous pseudoscience.
That being said, there’s still a lot to like about this strange little thriller if you’re willing to enjoy it as a drama with the occasional flash of horror instead of the other way around. Hardcore genre fans will likely be disappointed with Somnium’s lack of commitment to its scary roots, but there’s still enough of a creative spark here to keep the movie interesting even during its less fantastical moments.
And since most of the movie’s faults seem to come from an earnest lack of experience rather than a lack of talent, I’m excited to see what Rachel Cain can come up with for her next feature.
Somnium will have a limited theatrical release in Los Angeles (8/29) and New York City (9/6) before becoming available on streaming on September 9th.
Movies
‘Recluse’ Review – Harrowing Haunted House Horror With Lots Of Skeletons In Its Closet [Tribeca 2026]
A haunted house story is tense, terrifying storytelling when it’s properly executed. There’s been a growing tendency in horror to blend together harrowing haunted house stories with traumatic homecomings. A family member’s illness or death triggers a return to something dark that was intentionally left behind. Recluse hits all the tropes that one expects to find in this type of horror film, yet it manages to push this story in a daring, disturbing new direction that uses sound as a superpower.
It’s a unique lens to experience a familiar story about family secrets, generational trauma, unresolved grief, and the importance of not just legacy, but preservation. It’s a hell of a directorial debut from Henry Chaisson that’s guaranteed to get under the audience’s skin as they’re dragged through this painful, toxic tale.
Recluse is a gothic haunted house story where an isolated audio engineer, Joan (Sasha Frolova), returns to her family’s estate to check in on her father after he suffers a terrible accident. Joan suddenly discovers something much more sinister that paints her family’s tragedies in a very different light. Chaisson’s debut functions as a fascinating companion piece to this year’s undertone, which does a lot of the same things.
These two films make for a fascinating case of parallel thinking that tackles comparable subject matter through a similar lens, albeit in a bigger, less claustrophobic story in Recluse’s case. In fact, it’s the perfect horror film for anyone who was let down by undertone and didn’t feel like it brought enough to the table. It’s a considerably more conventional horror film, but this isn’t meant to denigrate its high quality. Recluse may hit some familiar notes, but it’s a scary, well-crafted haunted house horror story that goes for the jugular.
A gripping mystery that involves the tragic, unresolved circumstances that surround Joan’s mother teases a chilling connection to the recent horrors that have afflicted her father. Joan desperately tries to put these pieces together and give her family some sense of grander peace before she’s pulled under and becomes another victim of this festering curse that’s systematically worked its way through the Wyatt family. By doing so, Recluse digs into some deeper commentary on collective trauma, a very literal look at the “sins of the father” adage, and how one selfish decision can ripple through generations and fracture off into different dilemmas. By the end, Recluse has brilliantly flipped the powerful concept of legacy on its head by illustrating the horrors and sense of entitlement that can be born out of this idea.
A legacy is just another name for a curse under the right context.
”Listen” is a simple but powerful command from Joan’s father that she briefly obsesses over. In a way, it becomes Recluse’s grander mission statement, whether it’s in response to Joan listening to the people in her life, the signals that her body and mind are telling her, or the world’s greater whims. It’s important to reconnect with these grounding pillars, especially when it feels like control is slipping away.
Recluse excels with how audio and soundscapes can create entire universes that are full of rich details that transport individuals to these environments. There’s also a level of objectivity when it comes to audio recordings and the evergreen permanence that they’re able to provide. Joan’s career as an audio engineer makes sense for someone who wants to cling to hard evidence and proof of existence. It provides great insight into Joan without ever getting lost in contrived exposition.
Joan’s entire life is built around audio engineering, and so it makes sense that Recluse features excellent sound design that really goes above and beyond with its production elements. All of the sound design is expertly handled and turns the film into something special. These auditory elements intuitively keep the audience on edge so that they’re more susceptible to the actual scares that eventually strike. The smallest sound effect gets turned into a crushing, cacophonous assault. It’s a really effective way to build terror. Writer/Director Chaisson also handles the film’s music, which achieves a sublime, unnerving dissonance that further heightens the free-floating anxiety.
The story at the center of Recluse is slightly generic in some respects, but the film’s visual language and tone make it feel distinctly memorable. It also doesn’t hurt that the home that Joan returns to is basically an eerie art studio that’s full of contorted paintings. Recluse never struggles to generate mounting dread and terror that pump through every scene. Powerful, thoughtful cinematography consistently reinforces the film’s themes. Joan is constantly reflected in different surfaces or viewed through mirrors. She’s also often confined to tight, constricting framing that all speaks to her refracted identity during this moment of loss and her attempts to regain agency and control by making sense of something that’s seemingly unexplainable.
Recluse is full of truly disturbing visuals that make it seem like Joan is lost in a dream that turns out to be an extended nightmare. It’s a surreal journey reminiscent of invasive psychological horror like Silent Hill, with a touch of Sinister and Hereditary thrown in for good measure. There are so many individual frames that could endlessly fuel urban legends and creepypastas.
It does a great job with how it presents Joan’s fragile state of mind, where chilling flashes of the past sneak up on her and unresolved trauma manifests into unsettling imagery. There are endless shots that are obscured in darkness, or shadow is creeping in from the corners of frames like a suffocating force of nature. It’s very rare that a scene is fully lit. It leads to a very lonely, isolating atmosphere that’s easy to get lost in.
Chaisson’s debut stands out from the many other high-minded haunted house horror films without succumbing to the same pretensions that often drag down these stories. It’s a grief-stricken character study that’s full of upsetting visuals that scratch at something visceral and raw. The horror elements connect, and the answers to its grander mystery provide an appropriate and believable sense of closure. Those who are looking for an atmospheric horror film that isn’t afraid to be different while still channeling something real will appreciate Recluse.
Recluse made its world premiere at Tribeca; release info TBD.
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