REVIEW - SLEEP TIGHT

Sleep Tight lays its cards on the table extraordinarily soon, and only changes the deck after an hour or so's procrastination. Jaume Balaguero dives straight in rather uncaringly, only starting to set the scene once he's sure we know where we stand. And he's far more interested in the humdrum particulars of his story than in the psychological state of his twisted protagonist, and doesn't have the imagination to bring these mundane scenes to life - they're drab and familiar, scenes you know you've seen in too many other films. Luis Tosar is thus left stranded, unable to fully explore Cesar's mind; for much of the film, he's no more than a narrative device, there to further the plot. And to where? Nowhere unexpected, unfortunately. When Alberto Marini's screenplay turns events in a different direction, it's a gentle motion, but at least it turns at all. Sure, most of the time, it's only to lead things towards yet more banality, but the payoffs are worth the struggle - a mildly upsetting ending, or the part where things, inevitably, turn violent. I might have rolled my eyes, until it got a little Grand Guignol, and my interest was piqued. Spanish cinema can be so gleefully profane, and this is where Sleep Tight is at its best. Such a nasty tale, though, should otherwise not have been so neutered, so unfulfilling. The more I consider this film, the more uncovered ground I find - how much deeper they could have gone, or how much more perverse. The structure is shapeless, visual and sound design are serviceable (always a disappointment in a horror film, as there's so much to work with!), as are performances, although there is a range: Marta Etura is a bore as Clara, whereas Petra Martinez as Veronica is the best thing in the film, especially so in one heartbreaking scene.