Week 19: The Science of Sleep

First off, I have no idea how this movie got on my Netflix Queue. I know I put it on there, but I can’t remember why. Something in the description must have struck me as compelling. Or maybe I was in a drug-induced haze. Or maybe I was having a stupid spell. Since I don’t take drugs, I’m guessing it’s the latter.

Either way, you win, Science of Sleep. You vexing mistress, you.

You made me break my steadfast rule of “I must finish all movies no matter how dreadful, boring, overdramatic, weird and esoteric.” I made it through 57 minutes of Science of Sleep before I called the match. Rule broken. Streak over. Head muddled. Brain hurty.

I would try to tell you what this movie is about, but I honestly can’t. BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW. I hate admitting that I lack the cerebral wherewithal to comprehend an unusual, artistic viewpoint, but I am honestly struck dumb by this movie. I didn’t get it. There. I admit it. I suddenly feel like the type of person who likes to read Oprah Winfrey’s book selections and considers Ruby Tuesday really good food. Sigh.

Anyway, here’s the best way I can describe this movie: Stephane is weird and sad. He takes a job working on nudie calendars, develops a crush on his new neighbor, makes trippy, magical videos in his home studio and speaks three languages interchangeably. Beyond that, you got me.

In the spirit of total disclosure, I have to admit that we turned this off and ended up watching the new Cavemen show on ABC. Yes, I admit it. And – heaven help me – I laughed at it. I honestly thought it was funny. Double sigh.

Dear god, what’s next? Am I going to start saying things like, “get in the Camaro, honey. We’re out of Fritos so we got to get us to the Ruby Tuesday!”