Dreamland (2019)

Back in 2008, director Bruce McDonald impressed me with his taut, less is more, is it or isn’t it a zombie apocalypse thriller Pontypool. Since then, I haven’t seen any of his work, though he’s been quite busy, both theatrically and on television. Recently, I was able to check out his latest cinematic effort, Dreamland, which has been making the rounds on the festival circuit for the last year and will debut Stateside (I’m guessing via VOD) on June 5th. While not completely satisfying, there are enough bizarre characters and strange happenings to make it worth a watch.

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The always-interesting character actor Stephen McHattie plays dual roles here, the lead role of Johnny, a world-weary hitman who is pushed beyond his personal code of honor by his ruthless employer, and the supporting role of a nameless heroin-addicted nihilistic jazz trumpeter. Johnny’s boss is Hercules (punk legend Henry Rollins), an ostentatious gangster who is making a push into the vile business of child trafficking. Johnny’s defiance, the trumpeter’s upcoming gig, and Hercules’ ambitions come to a head with the impending wedding of a wealthy vampire (creepy Tomas Lemarquis). Our tale plays out against the backdrop of Luxembourg City, dropping in contentiously married pawnshop owners, a gang of snappily dressed child assassins, and the vampire’s enthusiastic sister, the Countess (Juliette Lewis).

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So, I have a few issues with the film. Tony Burgess and Patrick Whistler’s script has a few plot holes that are pretty glaringly obvious. These moments enable some of the larger action of the overall piece so they’re difficult to ignore. Their dialog and character beats are solid, though, leading me to wish the script had just a little more polish to it. They seem to endeavor for a certain amount of quirky ambiguity, which leads to my other nitpick. McDonald definitely understands that some of the story’s elements are supposed to be incongruous, but it doesn’t feel like he wants to go all-in on the weirdness. No one in the story thinks the presence of a real-life vampire is odd, the seemingly mystic connection between Johnny and the trumpeter is never really explored, and the gaggle of tween killers seems to be a weird for weird’s sake inclusion. Now, these aspects undoubtedly give the film some of its unique flavor and a certain humorous irony, and I don’t always need everything spoon-fed to me, but I actually think McDonald should’ve embraced the quirkiness more and injected more surrealism. As it is, the tone clashes between grounded crime thriller and dreamy dark fairytale. Adding to the pulpy mix, there’s some satire present, as well, with the filmmakers landing an easy but satisfying takedown of the super-rich in the spirited climax.

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McHattie is a pleasure to watch in both roles. Johnny is easily the most fleshed-out of all the characters in the story, but they’re broader strokes. I loved watching the trumpeter sleepily deliver his musings more, though. Rollins is intense as ever, Lewis is fun as the batty planner for the lavish wedding, and Lemarquis is suitably icky. Richard Van Oosterhout’s slick cinematography provides cool imagery to complement the distinctive characters and off-kilter narrative. Set design seems geared toward subtly invoking the satirical aspect, with the varying classes of the characters reflected by their dwellings. The location shooting brings a classy, but not overt, European flair to the proceedings. Jonathan Goldsmith’s jazz-inflected electronic score is a big plus, conjuring an anxious and melancholy postmodern Noir atmosphere. So yeah, this movie has a lot going on, but McDonald and editor Duff Smith never spin their tires and keep the proceedings moving at a nice clip in a mostly tidy 92 minutes.

There’s no doubt Bruce McDonald had a particular vision in mind for his Dreamland and there’s also no doubt that it’s not going to work for everyone. Stephen McHattie anchors a game cast, though, and while it doesn’t quite nail everything, it’s moody and offbeat enough to make it worth a watch. Recommended, with caveats, for fans of Things to Do in Denver When You’re Dead, Shoot ‘Em Up, and Give ‘Em Hell Malone.

Michael Cavender