Sleepwalk with me

I watched Sleepwalk with Me a little while ago. It was fun, in a strange kind of way.

 

It walks an interesting line between comedy and tragedy. At moments Mike Birbiglia dips into comedy; awkward as he struggles to find punchlines, a terrible stand up comedian in a small bar. Funnier, as he refines his pitch. Tragic, as it takes a whole movie for him to deal with his emotions, and what that means for the people in his life.

I suppose at some level every story rests on us caring about the people involved. Birbiglia’s movie is honest and brave in that it stars someone telling their own story, one that certainly doesn’t show him in a great light as he makes several major mistakes in a row. It’s very human.

I think we all want to believe our lives are stories. Good stories, for that matter. Ones where one is a hero, overcoming major opposition. But I don’t think that the major challenges, or the narrative arcs, in every life, are necessarily obvious.

Perhaps that’s where things feel missing, in Sleepwalk with Me. It sometimes feels as though the major narrative arc of the movie is simply him coming to a realisation, rather than making a difficult choice, or having to accomplish something particularly difficult. Perhaps that’s why I had a slightly disappointed feeling at the end.

 

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