Michael Neumann If there isn't much in this modest, sub-Hitchcock thriller worth criticizing it's only because there isn't much in it worth noticing at all. The premise is fascinating: that a drug might be used (or, in this case, abused) to block the chemical in our brains that inhibits muscular action during sleep, allowing us to unconsciously act out our dreams. But the script never aspires toward anything more than a routine psycho-thriller of curiously limited means: the film seems to have been made on two or three sparse studio sets with a very small cast, led by Kristy McNichol as the young test subject who naturally forgets to ask about an antidote. A throw away release doomed the film to a quick, easy death at the box office, which is a shame considering the far worse features being plugged that same summer, and the unsettling streak of sadism didn't help matters: most of McNichol's dreams find her a victim of rape and/or extreme violence.

Vomitron_G Well, all-in-all this is a rather lame & pretty disappointing movie. It's not badly made or hasn't any noticeable technical flaws for that matter. It's just that the pacing was too slow and on several occasions the suspense was really lacking. A lady gets attacked in her apartment by an unwelcome visitor (well not really her apartment, since she's still a little daddy's girl, but an apartment she sub-rents from some musician who is out of town). She manages to overcome him. However, she remains traumatized and starts developing some serious mental issues (like in: ripe for the loony-bin). I won't tell much more for those of you who still want to check out this movie, because, well, it is directed by Alan J. Pakula after all, so I'm sure you could do worse picking up a random movie (not that I'm a fan of this director or anything). It has maybe one or two tense scenes and some enjoyable dream-sequences. But that's all, basically. The final scenes in the building in London had something promising going on there, but in the end the conclusion is just disappointing. They really should at least have thrown maybe some incest and a lot of killings in there to spice things up (not that these are things that make a movie good, but hey, if you're out to terrify your audience, then why not make the extra effort?). But no, just pretty lame stuff and secretive dream-research in some basement room is all you will find in this one. So why didn't I flunk this movie? I dunno... maybe I'm just a nice guy. Or maybe it's a better movie than I first thought it was? If I'll ever re-watch it, I'll let you know.

gridoon In the opening and closing credits, the filmmakers acknowledge the services of sleep research centers and consultants in the making of this movie. But while there is some educational dialogue about dreams, the main concept - the heroine acting out her dreams - is not as innovative as they seem to think; haven't these people ever heard of the word "sleepwalking"? Kristy McNichol is fine (if one-note) in a demanding role, but director Pakula's pacing is off, the thrills are few, and the finale, with one character apparently transforming into Superman, is ludicrous. (*1/2)

SidFudd This is a creepy little film... Kristy McNichol plays Kathy, a flautist and daddy's girl from the suburbs who is invited to join a professional jazz combo with a gig in a downtown restaurant in a big city. No sooner has she rented an apartment in town than she is attacked by a stalker, whom she kills in self-defense. Afterwards she attempts to suppress the memory of the attack and subsequently is plagued by a recurring nightmare where she relives the night of the attack. The rest of the movie deals with her relationship with a sleep researcher who uses her as a guinea pig in his experiments into the dream-life of animals. The scenes with McNichol playing flute and scatting are a little embarrassing (the movie employed technical advisors for scenes involving clinical psychology, and they could have used similar advice in the scenes with the jazz combo). Also, there's not much dramatic tension in a movie where Science is the protagonist and the only real antagonist is McNichol's lingering nightmares (in contrast with, say, "Altered States", where sound scientific theories complemented perfectly the fact that all the scientists were raving nutters). But the atmosphere is certainly unnerving and claustrophobic. The movie shifts from dream-frame to reality-frame often enough so that at the most crucial moments, you're kept guessing whether what you're seeing is real or not. Director Pakula coaxes his usual understated, naturalistic performances from all concerned. McNichol is perfectly cast as the slightly lost, sexually vulnerable young artist out on her own for the first time, and gives a great performance I've never seen her match. Her scenes with her father are affecting and pathetic. Paul Shenar is great, too, as Kathy's Dad; "Twin Peaks" fans will no doubt spend most of the film watching and waiting for the man who played Laura Palmer's possessed father to look in a mirror and see the face of Bob. To sum up: this is not one of Pakula's best movies, but definitely worth seeing--if only for the scene where McNichol meets her psychotic, and armed, self in a dream.