Minore (2023) Review

From James Stewart’s abstract nightmare in Vertigo (1958), to the reality blending kills of A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), to the dream worlds of Mulholland Drive (2001), film has had a rich history of dream sequences. The visual medium of film, with its natural inclinations to symbolism and “show don’t tell” mantra seem near perfect for conveying the often illogical and emotive world of dreams. A dream can be complex and layered, by following an abridged Jungian approach they can be understood as symbolic communication between the conscious and unconscious minds.

In Minore, director and writer Konstantinos Koutsoliotas uses dreams, as a method to investigate the psychology behind its central characters and themes of cosmic purpose for humanity. Behind a typical alien invasion narrative, lies a deeper thematic dialogue about aimless characters searching for a clear purpose and connection.

Arguably at the heart of Minore’s ensemble cast is the sailor William and his search for connection with his estranged father. From the film’s opening it establishes William as a lonely figure thrown into an unfamiliar setting, his dream conforms to horror film form with traditional harsh lighting and cinematography that tends to isolate him as the only subject giving an eerie lingering feeling of danger as if he is vulnerable to a potential encroaching force. As he is about to make contact with a mysterious figure, Koutsoliotas purposefully cuts away back to reality solidifying an inability to connect.

Throughout we see repeatedly him spark up conversation with miscellaneous characters, in order to repair his loneliness as we learn each of these individuals suffer from similar struggles. Narris, the artist, appears to be somewhat alienated from society, Marianna and her grandmother have an unstable relationship and so forth. No one in the town seems truly satisfied.
The dreams progress into greater depths of horror the longer William stays in the town, as we witness the strange supernatural phenomena of citizens being summoned into the sea, culminating in dream fantasies such as many of the core characters in a trance like state beholding a tentacled alien creature. These dreams serve as mental shared connections between characters vaguely mirroring those ideas of Kung.

Eventually, the dreams are revealed to have served somewhat like a prophecy as the town are invaded by alien creatures reminiscent of the mythos of H.P. Lovecraft. Koutsoliotas calls upon the imagery of Lovecraftian creation, Cthulhu, to strengthen these existential themes that are famously ever so present in Lovecraftian literature.

Alongside this cosmic horror, black comedy is another key component of Minore. An aspect that is less consistent in quality than the horror.
Koutsoliotas and his cast demonstrate a clear understanding of horror and comedy, at no point did the genre blending feel misused but whereas the horror offers a deeper critical perspective, the comedy often felt underwhelming as a form of levity. In what should be the film’s biggest laugh, Marianna’s grandmother pulls out a decapitated skull in a therapist’s office; an excellent set up for black humour sold well by the lead performers’ serious acting but when it comes to the therapist’s reaction the delivery felt sloppy. It was weirdly too fast paced and fails to sell the comedic absurdity of his screamed reaction.

Meanwhile a scene like the face peeling during the film’s climax brilliantly sells the sheer craziness of the situation in a way that effectively brings out the laughter. The inconsistency brings to light a major possible criticism in that Minore is well needing of structural retooling. Many great scenes like the previously mentioned face peeling and dream sequences are all masterfully constructed in ways that keep audiences critically engaged with pure entertainment and underlying themes, but these are intercut between long scenes that unfortunately are more boring than interestingly bad.

Too often did I lose interest whenever the film wasn’t experimenting with the abstract and philosophical dreamworlds or pallet cleansing comedy. It feels like Minore spreads itself too thin with the ensemble and should instead have narrowed its focus down to a single or couple greater developed characters because otherwise, audiences are left with the situation where they must sit through dull exposition and side characters before they get to the existential horror and dark humour that is well worth their attention.

Ultimately, Minore is a film with clear talent and ambition bogged down by mishandled narrative decisions. Koutsoliotas offers a noteworthy exploration into the world of cosmic horror that highlights his knowledge of the genre but clumsily loses and regains and loses my attention on repeat for a drawn out two hours. For anyone willing to look past these issues, you are in store for a decent Lovecraftian inspired flick elevated by truly captivating dream sequences.

Movie Rating:

Minore trailer: