The Human Hibernation Review: The Big Sleep

Speculative hybrid film loses the thread by over-explaining

5 mins read

The Human Hibernation
(Spain, 90 min.)
Dir. Anna Cornudella Castro

 

In the opening minutes of her puzzling directorial debut The Human Hibernation, Anna Cornudella Castro disorients her audience with a nocturnal landscape. Castro’s camera roams through frost-bitten terrain in the cryptic opening sequence. Bison occupy the neighbouring fields as a herd of deer prances through a decaying forest. Amidst the sea of trees, a lone young boy appears from the woodlands. The child screams for his family.

The gruelling opening minutes of The Human Hibernation brilliantly encapsulates Castro’s fascination with anthropology. By merging nature footage with the disturbing dramatic tie-in of a helpless boy, the patient hybrid storytelling and world-building magnifies the child’s plight. For the remainder of Castro’s ambitious narrative, the film toys with uncanny iconography. Animals inhabit abandoned human spaces. A horse stands elegantly in a living room. Chickens occupy a messy kitchen. There’s a charming strangeness to the presence of the animals as they wander through the desolation of humanity’s remnants.

Through limited cutting and a heavy focus on diegetic sound, Castro transports the viewer into a transfixing alternate universe. The silence and ambience of the liminal locations are magnified by the absence of humans. Castro offers a unique B-side for fans of classic science fiction with this minimalist approach to speculative non-fiction.

When the humans begin to emerge from their burrows after their titular slumber, Castro prioritises the dramatic elements at play. The flux of the “documentary” footage yields to the dramatic elements. Castro implements expositional monologues to unravel and over-explain the scientific lore while re-introducing the human figures to their environment. The intrigue that stems from the film’s beguiling opener is therefore lost. The Human Hibernation is provocative until its sci-fi world-building erodes the ambiguity.

The film eventually spotlights the interior lives of its human cast, as the archetypal characterisation haphazardly explores their philosophical angst. Clara, who emerges as the film’s protagonist, copes with the cruelty of nature as she questions the mysterious absence of her younger brother. The conflict is resolved quickly as Clara’s guardians explain the misfortune of her younger sibling’s sudden disappearance. Castro reveals the answer behind her distressing opener early-on, sidelining Clara’s mourning in favour of aimless subplots.

As a result, the dramatic segments fail to connect with the viewer on an emotional plane. All personal investment with the fictionalised threads is lost through the inconsistent presentation. Compelling characterization is exchanged for monotone dialogue that punctuates the characters’ existential ruminations. The spoken words diminish the primitiveness of the performances.

However, The Human Hibernation includes brief comedic fragments that salvage its promising concept. In the film’s most unexpected scene, a man wearing an elegant suit sings Bard Howard’s “Fly Me to the Moon” to a herd of cattle in a red-lit barn. After his tender song, autumn arrives at their doorstep. Neil O’Neil’s tender performance acts as a humorous narrative bridge to jump into the film’s finale. The brief sequence demonstrates humanity’s empathy towards nature.

More often than not, The Human Hibernation recalls the sensorial work of Michelangelo Frammartino (Il buco). Both filmmakers share similar methodologies and anthropological themes, while mixing documentary footage with their scripted narratives. Whereas Frammartino’s slow-cinema execution carefully unravels the beauty and serenity of his Italian landscapes through his evocative images, Castro’s direction regrettably relies on her scripted treatment. The beauty that stems from her lush locations contradicts her tame narrative. While there are a few strong ideas and scenes present in The Human Hibernation, Castro’s reliance on narrative conventions undermines the impact of her ambitious premise. Ironically, for a tale about characters emerging from their slumber, audiences might be sound asleep by the film’s end.

The Human Hibernation is currently screening on the festival circuit.

David Cuevas is a filmmaker and writer based in Ottawa, Ontario. With his limited time, he can be seen trekking between Toronto and Montreal to avoid the cataclysmic mundanity of the National Capital bore. You can also find the man of the hour at prestigious film festival events around the globe, with prior journalistic history with festivals such as Cannes, Berlin, Sundance, IFFR, and TIFF. During the hot summer nights, David works as an associate programmer for the Ottawa International Animation Festival. David has written for various publications including POV Magazine, Next Best Picture, In Review Online, The Playlist, and ASIFA. He is also the Festivals Editor for FilmHounds Magazine. David funds his short film Ouvre on the side. David Cuevas was last seen as a filmmaker at the 2023 Fantasia Film Festival with his short film Avulsion.

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