The Curse of Sleeping Beauty (2016) uses a contemporary setting to deliver a visually affecting but, in the end, punchless horror story to the audience. Thomas Kaiser, an unsuccessful artist, is tormented by dreams of someone named Briar Rose, a beautiful woman dressed atavistically, who tells him that, in his world, he must find and kiss her in order to rescue her. Waking from these dreams is an adventure reminiscent of the phenomenon called sleep paralysis, a mental state in which the dreamer thinks they are awake, cannot move, and a horror has entered their bedroom.
Thomas finds himself heir to a property named Kaiser Gardens, as his uncle has reportedly killed himself. Unfamiliar with the uncle and the property, Thomas arranges a visit. Soon he discovers, in a plot mechanism similar to that of Dr. Who’s crying statuary, that mannequins are pursuing him and his realtor, Linda Coleman, a woman who has her own set of issues with Kaiser Gardens. They escape the house with the help of a paranormal expert, Richard Meyers.
A little research suggests that Kaiser Gardens’ hidden rooms may hold Briar Rose, and they return, appropriately armed. While Linda and Richard distract the veiled monster of the house, Thomas’ Big Kiss is planted on Briar Rose’s cheek, and, in shameless literary foreshadowing, the Briar part of the name becomes more important than the Rose. And then the movie peters out, presumably hoping for a sequel or a TV series to leap out of the hidden rooms of Kaiser Gardens and save their collective financial asses.
Yeah, the story was weak. Any careful consideration reveals some big plot holes.
The visuals weren’t bad, but the characters were mostly unsympathetic, and for those who like to look for morals in their stories – like me – they came up mostly empty. “If you uncle committed suicide, then play not with his legacy” lacks that pithy punch you want out of a story.
If you like monstrous mannequins, this may be for you, but otherwise there’s not much going on here. Go watch Grimm instead.