AceShowbiz - Dreams is a politically charged drama directed by Michel Franco that explores the complex and often toxic relationship between wealth, immigration, and power. The film centers on Jennifer, portrayed by Jessica Chastain, a wealthy socialite deeply involved in arts philanthropy, and Fernando, played by Isaac Hernández, a talented Mexican ballet dancer who trained at an academy funded by Jennifer’s affluent family. Over its brisk ninety-minute runtime, Dreams attempts to dissect the parasitic dynamics between the privileged elite and undocumented immigrants, but it often struggles to transcend its blunt approach.

Michel Franco is known for his unflinching depictions of social conflict, particularly around class struggles. His previous film, New Order, portrayed a violent uprising from the perspective of the upper class, though it left viewers uncertain about its political stance. In contrast, Dreams takes a more straightforward approach, focusing sharply on the power imbalances between the characters. However, this clarity comes at the expense of deeper empathy, especially as the story unfolds primarily through Jennifer’s perspective—a white woman of immense wealth whose understanding of immigrant struggles feels superficial.

Jennifer and Fernando’s relationship is marked by stark inequalities—not only in their age difference but also in their socioeconomic status. Their affair is highly charged with elements of dominance and submission, thriving on secret meetings and Jennifer’s ability to whisk away on her private jet to visit Fernando in Mexico City under the pretext of supporting the ballet academy. For Fernando, the risks are far greater. Having been deported from New York in 2013, he must covertly travel through dangerous routes in Texas and hitchhike to San Francisco just to see Jennifer, highlighting the precariousness of his existence.

The ambiguity of Fernando’s motivations—whether driven by genuine affection, lust, or opportunism—adds tension to their relationship. When Jennifer’s affection appears contingent on keeping Fernando hidden from her high-profile social circles, Fernando chooses to end the relationship. This breakup triggers a series of contrived plot developments, including Fernando’s consideration for the lead role at the San Francisco Ballet, which underscores the film’s focus on power and control rather than authentic character growth.

Jennifer’s role as a philanthropist is complicated by the contradictions within her family. She manages the McCarthy Foundation alongside her brother Jake, played by Rupert Friend, funded by their father Michael (Marshall Bell). While Jennifer expresses concern for immigrant rights, her actions reveal a performative allyship masked by privilege. The foundation’s public mission to assist the “underprivileged” contrasts sharply with Jake’s disdainful private remarks about immigrants “who aren’t American.” Jennifer’s reliance on voice-to-chat translation when speaking with Mexicans further exposes her detachment and unconscious biases.

Michel Franco presents these themes with a stark directness that some may find refreshing. Dreams is concise, moving linearly from one scene to another without extraneous subplots. Yet, this straightforwardness also limits the film’s nuance. Its social commentary is so overt that it risks feeling didactic rather than insightful. The storyline—featuring a wealthy woman secretly controlling a deported immigrant lover—depicts an extreme scenario that is far removed from the typical experiences of undocumented immigrants, who rarely encounter such direct contact with the ultra-wealthy.

This disconnect means the film oscillates between feeling both exaggerated and narrowly focused. Franco intends to reveal the exploitative nature of relationships across class divides, but the setting and plot strain credibility. The film’s portrayal of privilege and desperation is effective in concept but lacks the subtlety required for a more penetrating critique.

While Dreams may not invite deep reflection, it does offer moments that highlight the disparities it seeks to criticize. Watching Jennifer flaunt her luxury in San Francisco and Mexico City—adorned with Chanel and Yves Saint Laurent while being chauffeured in an Escalade—juxtaposed against Fernando’s vulnerable, muddy journey through Texas, is a stark visual metaphor. However, these contrasts verge on crassness rather than complexity.

The film’s final sequences draw particular scrutiny. The culmination of events challenges the coherence of Franco’s message, leaving the audience to question whether the film’s harsh treatment of its subjects unintentionally reinforces the very inequalities it aims to condemn. Cinematographer Yves Cape’s passive camera work adds to a sense of detachment, observing the unfolding drama without urgency or emotional engagement.

Ultimately, Dreams grapples with the erosion of the American Dream as an ideal, portraying it as increasingly ironic and outdated. Yet, by depicting its characters with a cold cruelty, the film risks perpetuating the systemic violence it critiques instead of dismantling it. Its portrayal of the intersection between wealth, immigration, and power is blunt and confrontational, but it stops short of offering meaningful insight or empathy.

Dreams will be released theatrically on February 27th, 2026, inviting audiences to witness its provocative, if flawed, examination of contemporary social divides.

Jessica Chastain delivers a polished performance as Jennifer, embodying the contradictions of privilege and performative activism. Isaac Hernández portrays Fernando with a blend of vulnerability and resilience, navigating a treacherous world shaped by systemic injustice. Meanwhile, Rupert Friend provides a grounded counterpoint as Jake, whose closed-mindedness highlights familial tensions around race and immigration.

With a runtime of 95 minutes, Dreams is a drama and romance hybrid that attempts to confront serious social issues but ultimately settles for a narrative that feels both contrived and overly simplistic. Despite its shortcomings, the film stands as a testament to Michel Franco’s ongoing interest in exploring the fraught intersections of class, power, and identity through cinema.