The Curse of Sleeping Beauty

The Curse of Sleeping Beauty is about a haunted house. We know this because Tom (Ethan Peck) inherits a haunted house from his uncle, a haunted house that is obviously haunted, and proceeds to ask everybody he meets whether or not they also think the house is haunted. But when realtor and secret occult investigator Jane (Natalie Hall) responds that she thinks Tom’s house might be “supernatural,” the soundtrack suddenly stutters, all “Dun dun duuun!” Tom—who is having odd dreams about Sleeping Beauty and a xenomorphish chest demon; who has found a ritual altar in the house’s basement; who has just explained that the lights only work during the day; who is literally, while Jane makes this assertion, recovering from the revelation that his body cannot leave the property without his organs failing; and who has, as mentioned, already asked 327 people if they think the house is haunted—joins the soundtrack in reacting to Jane’s incredible assertion. A moment later, he’s totally on board, but when he mentions that he thinks he might be cursed, it’s suddenly Jane who is incredulous, all, “You think it’s a curse?”
That this movie seems to think that semantically “supernatural” and “curse” are just several degrees more haunted than “haunted” is bad enough. That this movie also seems to think that it makes perfect sense for characters to constantly contradict themselves just to create “drama” in dialogue is the real problem.
Consider an early scene between Tom and the executor of his Uncle Clive’s will. Tom notes that Clive’s house is “like three hours from here” and the executor snottily responds, “You know what? I really know just about as much as you do.” She proceeds to give Tom more information that he didn’t know. Tom then says, “This doesn’t make any sense. I didn’t know my uncle”—she interrupts, “Okay, you’re breaking my heart.” But then she’s like, “Also, here’s this giant envelope with your name on it,” giving Tom even more information. And then, when a photo inside the envelope makes Tom have a brief flash of Briar Rose (India Eisley), the titular Sleeping Beauty, the executor is suddenly all, “You okay?”, concern washing over her face. Then he leaves and she’s back to snotty: “That was stimulating.”
Putting aside the fact that I doubt there’s many executors who believe that it’s the responsibility of their clients to be stimulating and charismatic when their loved ones have just died, it’s just so much…much for a scene where the point is literally, “Here’s a giant haunted house. No, I don’t know anything about your creepy fucking uncle.”
So, the primary reason to watch this film is to marvel at its cognitive dissonance. That ritual altar I mentioned earlier? It’s embedded in a wall that an assessor is convinced blocks hidden rooms in the basement. Later, upstairs, Jane says the word “bloodline,” and Tom rushes her downstairs to show her the altar because she’s triggered the idea that he should use the old rusty knife on the altar to cut his hand to open the secret door. Except…he shows her the altar. She’s like, “Is that blood?” He’s like, “That’s what I thought,” nodding uncertainly. Then he slowly picks up the knife and slowly moves it towards his hand and suddenly she’s like, “Bloodline.” And then he and she look at one another, and then he cuts his finger, and then the camera holds on his bloody finger for what seems like a whole minute, and…why do each of them need to have the same revelation 26 times in this scene? Why do they both react so incredulously when Tom finally opens the secret passage they were both just talking about? Especially when the set design makes the room they find look like a garage that needs Spring cleaning? Why do we have to have the same astonishment 40 minutes later when Richard (Bruce Davidson) accompanies them into the sub-basement?