Dream and Silence was the first film I added to my Watchlist when I joined Letterboxd two years ago; and it had been somewhere at the top of my mental watchlist for about a year before that. So it was with great anticipation that I finally managed to see a copy of this film tonight. It's a challenging and, in part, mysterious film but a deeply moving and rewarding one too. The only other film of Jaime Rosales' I have seen is The Hours of the Day (Las horas del día; 2003) but Dream and Silence's nearest equivalent is perhaps Lucrecia Martel's The Headless Woman.
I don't think this ever found its way to the UK but, nonetheless, it's highly recommended if you can find a copy!

Sueño y Silencio, filmada en un celuloide firme y seco, se contenta con rellenar espacios vacíos filmando el dolor invisible.
A mi juicio no es tan habilidosa en el uso de las elipsis como lo sería la posterior Magical Girl, pero la noción observacional brindada por la fijeza del plano, los fueras de campo y el uso del sonido para acentuar los estados aflictivos de los personajes es muy remarcable.

Aunque no se vea o ni siquiera se escuche, no significa que no haya ocurrido. Solamente el cine puede resucitar a los muertos.
Solaris por Jaime Rosales.

Easily Jaime Rosales' worst film so far. Completely pointless and devoid of any content, including story or characters. Not even the black-and-white cinematography and those brilliantly soundless shots (especially the first shot and the last shot, both of which are parallel to each other) can save this movie.

Sueño y Silencio, filmada en un celuloide firme y seco, se contenta con rellenar espacios vacíos filmando el dolor invisible.
A mi juicio no es tan habilidosa en el uso de las elipsis como lo sería la posterior Magical Girl, pero la noción observacional brindada por la fijeza del plano, los fueras de campo y el uso del sonido para acentuar los estados aflictivos de los personajes es muy remarcable.

Aunque no se vea o ni siquiera se escuche, no significa que no haya ocurrido. Solamente el cine puede resucitar a los muertos.
Solaris por Jaime Rosales.

Impresiones:
-más emocional que otras películas de de J. Rosales, aunque con una propuesta estética no menos radical (se abre y cierra con una acuarela de M. Barceló; blanco y negro, formato panorámico; silencios prolongados; planos con foco lejano; planos largos y amplios que empiezan o acaban con una salida de campo significativa o con un movimiento lateral de cámara que no es un seguimiento: en el paseo en el bosque con la niña, en el entierro, en el zoo con un viejo y solitario orangután...; ese largo movimiento de steadycam semifinal por el parque que resucita a la hermana/hija)
-excelentes actuaciones muy naturales y espontáneas, sobre todo de la madre (sosteniendo sobre sus hombros numerosas planos largos frontales. laterales...)

People grief in different ways. I mean, they externalise it differently. That, I believe, has to be the best quality of this film. The contrast of how mother/wife and husband/father deal with each other and themselves regarding the tragedy. You see the characters living ordinary lives (go to the park, work, take the bus, etc.), but the huge weight of losing a loved one is always present. Stirring inside. Eating them alive. Fighting its way out. 

Decent combination between Rosales' experimental side and a sort-of "narrative crowd-pleaser" type of work.

A film in which duration and tedium are not simply aesthetic affectations, but motivated explorations of grief and endurance, wherein the flickering ends of a reel of film become poetry in themselves. Still, the distancing effect of Rosales' formalism makes Dream and Silence more admirable than enjoyable, and its style and themes alike draw comparison to Antonioni and Tarr, two masters whom Rosales can emulate but not equal.

Yeah, but I already know about architecture and tedium.

Experiemental director Jaime Rosales crafts a fairly standard film here, although not TOO standard. It's about the loss of a loved one, and the grief that others can't always identify with, because everyone grieves in different ways. Very nicely done, although I would have personally preferred a more traditional unfolding of events.

Dream and Silence was the first film I added to my Watchlist when I joined Letterboxd two years ago; and it had been somewhere at the top of my mental watchlist for about a year before that. So it was with great anticipation that I finally managed to see a copy of this film tonight. It's a challenging and, in part, mysterious film but a deeply moving and rewarding one too. The only other film of Jaime Rosales' I have seen is The Hours of the Day (Las horas del día; 2003) but Dream and Silence's nearest equivalent is perhaps Lucrecia Martel's The Headless Woman.
I don't think this ever found its way to the UK but, nonetheless, it's highly recommended if you can find a copy!

Otra investigación minimalista en el dolor y la muerte de Rosales, esta vez en el seno de una familia corriente. Las claves con las que juega son el celuloide -que se hace evidente con esas colas y esos defectos (tipo grindhouse) que aparecen subrayando el drama- y el fuera de campo, que se usa como una especie de fantasmagoría que relaciona la ausencia de la muerte con la ausencia en el plano. Ideas ambas interesantísimas que ejecuta con la máxima sutilidad.