In this blog post, we’ll examine how Michel Gondry’s film ‘The Science of Sleep’ visualizes and expresses the interplay between dreams and reality, the unconscious and love, and surrealist imagination.
‘The Science of Sleep’ is a surrealist film that explores the “absolute reality” where dreams and reality merge. The “absolute reality” referred to here is the wonder and beauty that surrealism pursues. Things that could never happen in reality—and are even difficult to imagine—can only be experienced in dreams or when one sits idly, lost in reverie with sleepy eyes. The film visually brings these spaces of the unconscious and imagination to life for the audience. The spaces and images viewed in dreams sometimes reveal inner truths that one was not even aware of, and in fact, they acquire a sense of reality that is even more tangible than that of reason.
Based on a classical narrative, the film is a fantasy that unfolds the protagonist Stefan’s unconscious through various metaphorical images and a dreamlike atmosphere. From the very beginning, the film guides the audience into Stefan’s unconscious world and presents the central themes it explores. It poses questions such as: What is a dream? Why do we imagine things while sleeping? And what is surrealism? It is as if the film is explaining to the audience, before they even watch it, how to appreciate surrealism. The story begins by contrasting Stefan’s real world with his imaginary space.
In his imaginary space—his own studio—Stephan explains sleep and dreams. Living in a world of fantasy, he spends his nights imagining himself as the host of a television show called “Stephan TV.” In front of a set made from egg cartons attached to a warehouse wall and a camera crafted from cardboard, he plays music, interviews guests, and shows viewers how he “mixes” his vision to create his world.
He shares his inner monologue with the audience. Images of complex and indecipherable colors, strange outfits, collage-like landscapes, and animations of haphazardly connected objects unfold in a chaotic manner, as if wandering through a dream. The film then transitions to the real world. Of course, the narrative itself truly takes off once it returns to reality. Looking at the story as a whole, the film maintains a classical narrative structure while making use of image-driven metaphors. For this reason, despite being a surrealist film, it is neither obscure nor confusing. On the contrary, it is relatively easy to follow the story. This distinguishes it from works that actively employ anti-narrative structures, such as those by Luis Buñuel, who is regarded as a pioneer of surrealist cinema.
While watching the film, the question that keeps coming to mind is the phrase on the movie poster: “Why can’t love be like a dream?” Perhaps this question transcends this film and runs through the entire genre of surrealist cinema. That is why the world may be worth living in, why love—though difficult—is precious, and why it can sometimes be so beautiful it brings tears to one’s eyes.
Stephan gets a job at a company but feels dissatisfaction and stress regarding the company, his coworkers, and his work. His dissatisfaction with the boss and his frustration with the job are expressed in an even more exaggerated form in his dreams. His hands grow enormous, while the paper shrinks. This is because dreams are a space where reality is transformed according to one’s desires. He subdues his boss with his giant hands. And just as he explained at the beginning, dreams manifest as a jumble of the events and thoughts experienced throughout the day. The electric razor he saw before going to bed transforms, turning the boss into a beggar; he makes love to the woman he saw at work; and he hangs the paintings he created on the walls of the boss’s office. And he flies freely through the sky.
Dreams, delusions, and the unconscious are connected to humanity’s most primal desires. It is also one of humanity’s natural instincts to unconsciously perceive someone as a sexual being when meeting them for the first time. It’s a scene that’s somewhat embarrassing but one many people can relate to. Stéphane, who cannot properly distinguish between dreams and reality, comes to life through the various images created by Gondry. The images and actions in the dream world resonate more powerfully with the audience than the dialogue in reality.
One of the scenes masterfully expressed through metaphor is the one where cellophane flows out of a faucet instead of water. This doesn’t come across as merely childish or confusing. Rather, it brings a smile to the viewer’s face when it leads to creative activity in reality. This is because they visualize the emotions they feel exactly as they are. It is, quite literally, a realism that is more real than reality itself.
The wadding floating in the air is also striking. The man throws the wadding upward and says he wishes it would stay there forever. Then, the wadding hovers in the air like a cloud. This scene perfectly captures the film’s atmosphere, where dreams and reality coexist naturally.
These images later reappear exactly as they were in a dream. The cellophane that was coming out of the faucet transforms into bathwater. As he stares at the cellophane tape, he recalls what happened with the woman a moment ago and thinks of her. Stefan, who has been dreaming incessantly since childhood, appears to be a character standing on the cusp between boyhood and adulthood. The childish, fairy-tale-like images further emphasize this psychological state.
The typewriter becomes a tool for Stéphane to convey his feelings. He writes a letter with great urgency from within his cave-like inner world. And to deliver the letter, he wanders through his own mind. Even the moment he realizes that the other person has lied is expressed not through reality but through dreamlike imagery. At some point, the audience, too, stops fixating on the distinction between dream and reality. This is because it feels more natural to simply immerse oneself in the story and the emotions.
Automatism, one of the core concepts of Surrealism, lies in expressing whatever comes to mind rather than asking “Why?” In fact, director Michel Gondry has mentioned in several interviews that he wanted to freely express ideas and images. The same applies to love. Someone with a crush on another person lives their life constantly thinking about and imagining that person. A single word from that person can make them feel like they’re flying through the sky, or wandering through a dark cave.
The scene where he eats with his parents in a dream is also intriguing. Stéphane summons his parents into his dream, shares a meal with them, and tells them his story. As he explains his childhood memories and his current state, the audience comes to understand Stéphane more deeply. At the same time, this scene is also part of Stéphane’s process of rediscovering himself.
Furthermore, he enters his own dreams to explain various phenomena and stories. The film faithfully brings to the screen a world where images materialize instantly in one’s mind just by thinking about them, and a world where someone visually brings one’s words to life the moment they’re spoken.
In fact, due to its stylistic approach and the succession of symbolic imagery, this film can at times feel childish or clichéd. Since it deals with the world of the pure self, this is likely an intentional effect to some extent. However, there are also moments that feel monotonous. Personally, I found it somewhat less interesting than Gondry’s masterpiece, ‘Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind’. It feels like a work in which the director has given free rein to his own inner world and imagination.
Later in the film, the protagonist’s confused state of mind is conveyed through music and dizzying visuals. Stéphane expresses his emotions by singing and playing music. At times, his colleagues suddenly appear and begin playing as well. The combination of music and imagery allows the audience to directly experience his confusion and anxiety.
In his dreams, Stéphane becomes an omnipotent being. He can do whatever he wants. However, as the story progresses, he becomes increasingly unable to distinguish between dreams and reality. The dream sequences grow longer, and the imagery becomes more complex.
Eventually, the boundary between dream and reality blurs completely. The audience comes to understand this, but Stephanie does not. To her, Stefan seems to be turning into a strange person. This scene feels like it illustrates how the freedom inherent in surrealism can sometimes lead to madness and confusion.
Later, while working with Stephanie, Stéphane falls asleep right there in the studio. He has a wonderful time skiing with his colleagues in a snowy field and sharing a kiss with Stephanie. This shows that he has become certain of his love for her. As the dream sequences increase, you can sense that his feelings are growing stronger.
When he wakes up from his dream while skiing, his feet are actually frozen. He warms them up with hot water. This scene is also very intriguing. Dreams and reality are no longer separate dimensions; the dream experience influences reality. Gondry encourages the audience to participate in this absolute sense of reality as well.
The scene where the man and woman are on the phone is also interesting. Behind the woman answering the call, her cherished toy horse—the very one the man had repaired for her—runs around freely. The sight of it galloping about does not seem to be mere decoration but rather a scene hinting at a shift in their relationship. I interpreted this part as the moment in the story when the woman grows a little closer to the man. It gives the impression that the hearts of the two—who are torn between friendship and romance—are gradually drawing nearer. In particular, this scene symbolically shows that the woman’s heart is slowly opening up to the man.
Furthermore, I believe the motif of the horse carries a deeper meaning here. The man and the woman both long to live freely and creatively. They are both deep thinkers who wish to pursue creative work based on their imagination, but reality does not allow for that. They live exhausted by a repetitive daily routine, doing work that doesn’t suit them. If the freedom in the man’s dream is a symbol representing his self and desires, then the horse in this scene can be seen as a symbol expressing the woman’s inner world. As mentioned earlier, this toy horse is the object the woman cherishes and is most attached to. While the film’s narrative follows a somewhat predictable and clichéd romantic structure, it may be precisely because of this that it was able to place even greater emphasis on the world of dreams and the unconscious.
There is also a scene where conflict arises just as the two are growing closer. The man witnesses the woman dancing intimately with another man, which plunges him into anguish and jealousy. What’s interesting is that this scene is reenacted in a different way within the man’s dream. The man and the woman each observe the same scene and interpret it from their own distinct perspectives. Perhaps love is, at its core, the process by which two different people meet and build a relationship. Conflict is inevitable when people with different values, experiences, thoughts, and perspectives come together. This clash of emotions is bound to be even more intense for two people caught in the ambiguous relationship between friends and lovers. Although it’s a fleeting scene, I feel it very effectively captures the nature of their relationship.
And in the scene where the man talks to the woman while in distress, another narrative unfolds. It’s the story of a man who has committed some wrongdoing and must flee, pursued by the police, leaving the woman he loves behind. Ultimately, he meets his death while being chased by the police. While I can’t definitively state the exact intention, it feels like a modified expression of “dépaysement”—the act of transposing real-life emotions into a completely different situation.
Another striking aspect of this film is that almost everything is portrayed in a beautiful, fairy-tale-like manner. The cars are made of corrugated cardboard, and the guns are made of paper. Even destruction and violence are depicted as fairy-tale-like images using paper and drawings.
Toward the end, there is a scene where a person catches fire due to a cigarette butt thrown by the man. However, no actual flames are visible. Instead, the burning man writhes in agony with red flowers attached all over his body.
To save him, someone sprays him with water through cellophane. These scenes are not a direct reproduction of reality but rather the result of the director’s reinterpretation through imagination and beauty. This is a part that clearly reveals Gondry’s vision of transforming reality into slightly more beautiful and creative imagery.
The portrayal of a man feeling lost within his own imagination continues throughout the film. The movie features unrealistic elements such as the one-second time machine invented by Stéphane, a mind-reading machine, and the ability to dream whatever he desires. Most of these elements are either extensions of the protagonist himself or creations he has brought into being. Having lived a life reveling in his imagination, he ultimately suffers even more because of it. The chaotic situations created by the time machine, the tangled images of dreams, and the scenes of being chased by someone all reveal his anxious inner world.
Ultimately, he throws the television—which symbolizes that chaos and desire—into the river. This scene feels like a symbolic representation of his desire to break free from the imagination and obsessions that bind him.
And then comes the final scene. Stephen goes to see the woman once more to express his feelings. However, she does not readily accept his feelings. Nevertheless, unwilling to leave, Stephen falls asleep in her bed. A paper flower lies beside the bed. He stares at the flower before falling asleep, and as the woman watches him sleep, her heart begins to waver once again.
Then Stefan dreams again. In a field filled with the paper flowers placed beside her bed, they ride her favorite horse doll together across the meadow. This is followed by a scene where they cross the cellophane sea aboard the paper boat she had made, and the film comes to a close.
The paper boat, the cellophane sea, and the cotton-like clouds that appear here were all part of the art project the two had wanted to create together. The two had been living in a monotonous and stifling reality. Perhaps it was a world they sought to imagine and create together precisely because they couldn’t realize the free world they dreamed of in reality. Ultimately, the film does not clearly show how their relationship turned out. However, lying in her bed, Stefan experiences the freedom, love, and ideals he had longed to achieve together in the happiest possible form.
This film is, quite literally, a film about sleep. And it is a film about the dreams we have while sleeping. At the same time, it is a film about the inner emotions of human beings—such as imagination, love, desire, and regret. Through the theme of dreams, the film allows these emotions to coexist with reality and unfolds them freely. What matters is not which is the dream and which is reality. The point is that everyone living in reality constantly thinks, imagines, and carries their desires within them. Therefore, not only the dreams we have while sleeping but also the imagination and hope we hold in reality exist as another form of dream. The film seems to be addressing precisely that point.
And what I found most intriguing about this film was the answer to the question I mentioned earlier: “Why can’t love be like a dream?” Ultimately, the film does not provide a clear answer to that question.
The audience simply follows the pure heart of Stefan, who has a crush on Stephanie, through his subconscious and dreams. That is precisely the core message the film seeks to convey. Stefan wants to remain an eternal boy. While he can live freely in his dreams, he cannot do so in reality. He is not Peter Pan; though dreams always coexist with reality, he ultimately cannot escape the choices of reality.
The moment when the dreams of the unconscious collide with reality is deeply sad. In his final dream, he rides a horse with her across a sea of cellophane, but it remains, after all, just a dream. This is the absolute reality where dreams and reality merge. Yet even the concept of “absolute reality” is ultimately nothing more than a world created by Stefan’s true unconscious. The moment he opens his eyes, he must face yet another reality.
The dreams pursued by Surrealism—and the dreams depicted in this film—may be beautiful precisely because they are merely dreams. But humans can always dream again, just as love is sorrowfully beautiful. That is why the happy dream Stefan has at the end feels less like a mere fantasy and more like the embodiment of hope that all of us, living in reality, hold within us. That is why that scene is beautiful—and at the same time, all the more poignant.
