THE STORY – The story of a woman living in the border region between Bulgaria, Greece and Turkey, who agrees to partake in a special deal in order to help a friend. However, this will lead her into a dangerous situation, and she will have to confront her desires.
THE CAST – Yana Radeva, Syuleyman Alilov Letifo & Velko Frandev
THE TEAM – Valeska Grisebach (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 162 Minutes
Based on its title, anyone could be forgiven for thinking that Valeska Grisebach’s long and winding drama “The Dreamed Adventure” will be a whimsical, unpredictably wild ride, perhaps with some fantastical bits thrown in. Instead, the film is so languid, so ambling, and so slow that the only link between its name and any quality actually found within it is the way in which it could very likely sedate a viewer so deeply that they have a dream of their own. A kinder critic might call its pace “deliberate.” Still, the way this film goes out of its way to withhold any element that might make it watchable, engrossing, or, heaven forbid, entertaining feels practically arrogant. Much like its central figure, “The Dreamed Adventure” aimlessly wanders toward its eventual, welcome conclusion.
This film opens with a man named Said (Syuleyman Letifov) arriving in the small, dusty Bulgarian town of Svilengrad for the first time in many years. It will eventually be revealed that he’s made this trek to carry out a shady transaction involving diesel purchased from a local criminal, theatrically nicknamed The Raven. Shortly after his return, Said’s car is stolen (the nonexistent reaction he has to this upsetting revelation foreshadows just how muted this movie’s emotions and overall energy will prove to be). But thankfully, he quickly runs into his old connection, Veska (Yana Radeva), a kindly archaeologist overseeing a dig at nearby ruins. After reuniting, Said suddenly disappears, and Veska makes the potentially dangerous decision to take over Said’s not-strictly-legal deal in his place. Thus, she sets out on what the title would seem to describe as an adventure, but is actually more of a leisurely stroll.
The shift in perspective from Said to Veska is admittedly unexpected, giving the film a destabilizing feeling more than any other aspect of the shady underground journey on which Veska finds herself. But any interest generated by this curious narrative decision is undercut by the film’s completely unhurried, unvarying pace.
Veska is aware of the risks involved; she says to Said, “You’re getting into deep water. Can you swim?” But Veska is unshakably, powerfully unafraid. Little rattles her, very likely because, as is slowly revealed, she had a difficult time in the 1990s, as did so many others in her region around that tricky transitional period for Eastern Europe. Almost every one of the many strangers and old acquaintances that she encounters brings this time up, especially the women, and it’s clear that this memorably rocky era hardened many of those who made it through. Thus, Veska has no hesitation when facing the veiled threats from the local crime boss Iliya (a charming yet intimidating Stoicho Kostadinov), with whom Veska also has a history.
She spends the film making unbothered strides through her environment, snooping and sneaking into locations and situations with the assuredness of a film noir private detective. Refreshingly, her decency and resourcefulness are what get her through. Until later in the film, the sense of danger is relatively low, further diluting the proceedings’ vivacity. Instead, Veska merely roams around, not necessarily without a clear goal but certainly in no rush to accomplish it. Similar to Said’s non-reaction to his stolen car, Veska doesn’t seem concerned about the man’s vanishing, or really, anything at all. Thus, it’s difficult to feel compelled by her journey when even the character herself seems disinterested in exactly where she’s going and what she’ll do when she gets there. Situations and groups of people mark Veska’s story; she wanders into them, leading to several prolonged, often rambling conversations, mostly about the past. While the intention is clear, as the film reckons with the region’s painful recent history, these lengthy scenes give off the same feeling as listening to older family members tell the same stories of yesteryear repeatedly, talking in circles with no end in sight or point behind the telling besides recollection. And when they’re not talking, Grisebach’s often content to spend long periods simply watching Veska and the film’s other characters placidly observe the world around them while truly nothing happens.
Letifov brings a grounded quality to the film. This is her first acting role, and her lack of overly showy choices or polished mannerisms supports the film’s mission to avoid ostentation. And although the vast majority of the movie sees her moving through the plot with little in the way of showcase moments of performance, later in the film she gets a chance to show a fierceness that’s buried deep inside her as the stakes of her situation suddenly rise.
There’s a good deal of intriguing shadows on the proverbial edge of the frame in “The Dreamed Adventure.” There’s the warning of immigrants being smuggled over the nearby Turkish border, along with a tossed-off reference to Said being a “Pomak” and how that ethnic group experienced forced assimilation into “Bulgarianism.” But Grisebach is content to give these potential dramatic shots of adrenaline no more than the briefest, most unexplored mentions. On a filmmaking level, Grisebach also consistently makes the most low-key choice; there’s no musical score, and the camerawork is seemingly unmotivated, giving the film very little cinematic drive. Especially with its low, low, low, low energy, all of these factors combine to make “The Dreamed Adventure” one that’s worthy of another whack of the snooze button.
