Full credits at IMDb
Thanks to the magic of editing, movies are uniquely equipped to grapple with issues of memory. So it's easy to get excited about any movie—but especially a thriller—that wrestles with the powers of recall. Especially a lack of them. Like, Memento. Or, like one about a known sleepwalker with a repressed and sordid childhood who wakes up with a bloody knife on his bedroom floor the morning after his best friend's wife was stabbed to death—and can't remember anything about the night before. In My Sleep, however—despite its tremendous score and a few solid performances—fails to outperform the expectations set by its made-for-cable aesthetic.
It revolves around Marcus (Crusoe's Philip Winchester), a sex-addict, client-fucking masseuse, and parasomniac. "What's that?" one character actually asks. Well, it's a sleepwalker who retains a high-level of functionality while amnesically somnambulating, like a blacked-out drunk without the drunk. To keep himself out of any more trouble after he seduces his best friend's wife (Kelly Overton), he gets the upstairs neighbor-girl (Lacey Chabert) to handcuff him to his headboard at night. Yet he still tends to wake up unbound to find a few miles on the car's trip meter or his body covered in blood of a blood type different from his own. Is he a sleepwalking serial killer? Or the victim of a (probably vindictive) set-up?
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