DREAMS Review: How an Impossible Cross-Class Romance Dismantles the American Dream

Jessica Chastain, paired with newcomer Isaac Hernández, reunites with Michel Franco for their second collaboration.

Contributing Writer; London
DREAMS Review: How an Impossible Cross-Class Romance Dismantles the American Dream

French auteur Michel Franco and powerhouse Hollywood icon Jessica Chastain return with Dreams, a visually daring and thematically subversive romantic melodrama. The film continues Franco's longstanding interest in class disparity and social conflict, as previously explored in New Order.

Here, Franco makes no attempt to conceal the illusory promise of the so-called American Dream, nor its inevitable collapse -- an idea suggested in the film's title. Dreams opens with a truck filled with undocumented Mexican migrants crossing into San Antonio, among whom is Fernando (Isaac Hernández), a young commoner carrying a ballad-dancer dream. If one expects him to follow a familiar trajectory, like being homeless in the country or taking under-the-table work, the film quickly subverts such assumptions.

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Shortly after escaping from the group, Fernando appears in a well-appointed apartment, entering it with surprising familiarity. The situation initially feels disorienting, until Jennifer (Jessica Chastain) -- a glamorous trust-fund heiress -- arrives, slipping into the garage late at night in her limousine. When the two meet, a simmering desire begins to take shape between them, and it soon becomes clear that Fernando is Jessica's secret lover.

Although Jennifer initially welcomes Fernando into her life, supporting him both emotionally and financially, his precarious immigration status places him under constant threat of deportation. When Fernando secures an opportunity to work in San Francisco, Jennifer becomes increasingly unsettled by the potential loss of control. In response, she betrays him by reporting his status to the authorities. Upon discovering the truth, Fernando retaliates by confining Jennifer in her own luxury apartment, effectively placing her under house arrest.

This narrative turn is particularly electrifying. Jennifer, as a dominant, wealthy white female, finds herself subjected to conditions that mirror those endured by the migrants: confinement, isolation, and the necessity of meeting basic needs alone. Franco stages this reversal as a form of symbolic retribution, offering a fleeting sense of catharsis. Yet as the film progresses, this moment is revealed to be illusory, a temporary inversion that ultimately gives way to the harsh reality of systemic inequality.

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The chemistry between Hernández and Chastain (particularly on a physical level) is striking. Their relationship oscillates between intimacy, anxiety, suspicion, and emotional volatility. While Jennifer is drawn to a man her social circle would never accept, she maintains the façade of a composed, elitist intellectual, creating a tension between desire and social performance that fuels the film's central dynamic.

Hernández, whose sinewy physicality reflects his discipline as the current principal dancer with American Ballet Theatre, brings a compelling presence to Fernando. He embodies a character defined by ambition and idealism, yet constrained by his marginalised social position.

Drawing on a familiar "pauper and princess" narrative, Dreams explores the impossibility of cross-class romance between a poor migrant and a wealthy American woman. Through the depiction of their clandestine relationship, Franco injects elements of exoticism that subtly parallel the broader geopolitical dynamic between Mexico and the United States. The film thus reframes personal desire as an extension of structural power relations.

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Franco appears less concerned with psychological realism than with constructing an allegorical framework, one shaped by instinct, desire, and imbalance. The behaviours of his characters may at times seem exaggerated, yet they resonate precisely because they echo conditions already present in reality.

In this sense, Dreams can be read as a Mexican counterpart to Anora. Where Sean Baker examines the illusion of upward mobility through the story of a sex worker marrying into wealth, Franco arrives at a similarly bleak conclusion from the opposite direction. Accompanied by Fernando's anguished outcry, Dreams presents a stark portrait of dream-seekers who ultimately become casualties of a seductive yet hollow political myth.

The film is now playing in select U.S. theaters via Greenwich Entertainment. It will continue to roll out nationwide in the coming weeks. Visit their official site for locations and showtimes.

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Isaac HernándezJessica ChastainMichel Franco

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