When people first hear the title Sleeping Beauty, their minds naturally turn to the classic fairy tale about a princess awakened by true love’s kiss. However, Julia Leigh’s 2011 directorial debut Sleeping Beauty has nothing to do with that fantasy world. Instead, it is a provocative, unsettling, and hypnotic Australian drama that ventures into themes of power, sexuality, objectification, and alienation. The film stars Emily Browning in one of her most daring roles, offering a narrative that is less about action and more about atmosphere, silence, and disturbing questions about the human body as a commodity.
This review will explore the film’s plot, characters, performances, direction, cinematography, themes, strengths, weaknesses, and overall impact.
Plot Overview
Lucy (Emily Browning) is a young university student living in Sydney. She struggles to make ends meet, taking on multiple low-paying jobs from working in an office to waitressing and even participating in medical experiments. Her life feels fractured, filled with casual relationships, fleeting connections, and an absence of true intimacy.
Through a chance encounter, Lucy is introduced to an exclusive and highly secretive job opportunity. She is recruited by Clara (Rachael Blake), a sophisticated woman who manages a mysterious operation catering to wealthy, elderly men. Lucy’s role is peculiar: she serves as an elegant hostess in erotic lingerie at dinner parties. Eventually, Clara offers her a more lucrative position — Lucy will drink a drugged tea that puts her into a deep, coma-like sleep. While unconscious, men are allowed to spend the night with her body. The one rule is that no penetration occurs.
As Lucy continues this work, she grows increasingly curious about what happens while she is unconscious. Her curiosity collides with her desperation, leading her to secretly record herself during one of these sessions — an act that ultimately reveals the haunting reality of her situation.
Themes and Symbolism
Sleeping Beauty (2011) is a film rich with themes that extend far beyond its surface story.
1. Commodification of the Body
Lucy’s body is literally rented out as an object of desire. By being unconscious, she is stripped of agency, turning into a canvas for male fantasies. The film critiques how society often reduces women to physical objects.
2. Alienation and Emotional Numbness
Lucy lives her life in a state of detachment. She drifts through jobs, relationships, and even family interactions without visible passion or fulfillment. Her willingness to surrender her consciousness mirrors the emptiness she already feels in her waking life.
3. Power and Control
Although the clients are given control over Lucy’s body, the situation also reveals their fragility. They seek comfort, validation, or control in ways that highlight their own vulnerability. Clara, on the other hand, holds quiet authority by managing the arrangements and maintaining strict rules.
4. Death and Sleep as Twin States
The recurring image of Lucy asleep — motionless, unaware, and vulnerable — draws parallels between sleep and death. The men do not simply desire her body; they desire her absence. The film suggests that the ultimate erotic fantasy may not be sex, but control over lifelessness.
Performances
Emily Browning delivers a fearless performance as Lucy. Her portrayal is restrained yet deeply haunting. Instead of relying on overt emotional displays, Browning embodies Lucy with quiet detachment, capturing a young woman both vulnerable and enigmatic. Her willingness to expose both body and soul in such a demanding role is commendable.
Rachael Blake as Clara radiates sophistication and control. She becomes a counterbalance to Lucy, exuding power without needing to be overtly cruel. The supporting male actors also contribute nuanced performances, avoiding caricatures and instead presenting wealthy men who are fragile, lonely, and quietly predatory.
Direction and Cinematography
Julia Leigh, a novelist making her directorial debut, approaches the story with minimal dialogue and maximum visual power. Every frame feels deliberate — carefully composed, symmetrical, and painterly. The camera often remains still, allowing viewers to soak in the silence and unease of each moment.
Cinematographer Geoffrey Simpson amplifies the mood with stark, clinical lighting. Interiors feel sterile, creating a sharp contrast between Lucy’s chaotic, unglamorous daily life and the ritualistic elegance of Clara’s world. The visual style echoes filmmakers like Stanley Kubrick and Michael Haneke, who rely on precision and stillness to unsettle audiences.
Pacing and Tone
The pacing of Sleeping Beauty is intentionally slow. For some viewers, this may feel frustrating or even boring. However, the sluggish rhythm mirrors Lucy’s detachment and alienation. The lack of traditional plot development forces the audience to sit with discomfort and reflect on what is unfolding beneath the surface.
The tone is cold, distant, and clinical. Julia Leigh avoids eroticizing the subject matter, even though nudity is abundant. Instead, she films the human body with detachment, almost as though it were a specimen under examination.
Strengths of the Film
- Bold Concept – Few films dare to explore such taboo territory with such restraint and seriousness.
- Emily Browning’s Performance – Her courage and subtlety carry the film.
- Visual Precision – The painterly cinematography enhances the haunting atmosphere.
- Philosophical Depth – The film raises unsettling questions about sex, death, and human connection.
Weaknesses of the Film
- Emotional Distance – The lack of emotional engagement makes it difficult for many viewers to connect with Lucy on a personal level.
- Pacing Issues – The deliberate slowness can test patience, making the film feel longer than it is.
- Ambiguity – Some viewers may find the symbolism and narrative too opaque, leaving the film unsatisfying.
Critical Reception
Upon release, Sleeping Beauty divided critics. Some praised Julia Leigh’s audacity and visual command, comparing her style to masters of art cinema. Others criticized the film for being cold, pretentious, and lacking emotional payoff.
At the 2011 Cannes Film Festival, where the film premiered, reactions were similarly polarized. While Emily Browning’s performance drew admiration, the film’s challenging subject matter limited its mainstream appeal.
Personal Analysis
Sleeping Beauty (2011) is not a film for everyone. It defies expectations of erotic drama by stripping away glamour and exposing the emptiness beneath. Watching it is often uncomfortable, but that discomfort is precisely the point. Julia Leigh forces audiences to confront disturbing realities about desire, power, and detachment without offering easy answers.
The film’s biggest strength lies in its refusal to sensationalize. While the subject could easily have been exploitative, Leigh’s restrained approach transforms it into something meditative and haunting. That said, its clinical tone and ambiguity may alienate audiences seeking emotional resonance or narrative clarity.
Conclusion
Sleeping Beauty (2011) is a daring and unconventional film that pushes boundaries of storytelling and cinematic form. It is less about entertainment and more about provocation, inviting viewers to reflect on the commodification of the human body, the fragility of intimacy, and the unsettling intersections of sex and death.
