Here we go again, pulling another gem from the back shelves of memory, a tape that likely sat unassuming in the 'Foreign Films' or 'Thriller' section of your local video store, waiting to absolutely scramble your brain. I'm talking about Alejandro Amenábar's 1997 Spanish psychological maze, Abre los Ojos (or Open Your Eyes as it was known internationally). This wasn't your standard Hollywood fare, even back then. There was a strangeness to it, a lingering unease that felt quite different from the jump scares or overt action dominating the era. Finding this one felt like uncovering a secret.
That Unsettling Feeling
What strikes you first, and what stays with you long after the VCR spat the tape back out, is the profound sense of disorientation. The film plunges us into the world of César (Eduardo Noriega), a wealthy, devastatingly handsome, and perhaps carelessly arrogant young man in Madrid. His life seems perfect, flitting between easy conquests until he meets the captivating Sofía (Penélope Cruz). There's an immediate spark, a connection that feels genuine amidst his superficial existence. But a single, catastrophic event—a jealous ex-lover, a car crash—shatters everything. Or does it? From that point forward, the narrative splinters. We, along with César, are left grasping at straws, trying to discern dream from reality, memory from fabrication. Is he a disfigured man recovering from trauma, or a prisoner accused of a crime he can't recall?
A Face in the Crowd, A Mask in the Mirror
Eduardo Noriega carries the immense weight of this film. His transformation from supremely confident playboy to a desperate, confused soul trapped behind a prosthetic mask (or perhaps just his own fractured psyche) is utterly compelling. You feel his panic, his frustration, his fleeting moments of hope constantly undercut by jarring inconsistencies. It's a performance that relies less on overt emoting and more on conveying a profound internal chaos. You watch his eyes darting, searching for an anchor in a world that keeps shifting beneath his feet. It’s through him that we experience the film’s central terrifying question: what if you could no longer trust your own perception?
Alongside him, Penélope Cruz is luminous as Sofía. She represents the possibility of love, redemption, and a tangible reality that César desperately clings to. Her chemistry with Noriega is palpable, making the potential loss of that connection all the more devastating. It's fascinating to note that Cruz would later reprise this very role in the American remake, Cameron Crowe's Vanilla Sky (2001) – a rare instance of an actor bridging the original and its Hollywood counterpart, bringing that same essential warmth and mystery.
Behind the Labyrinth
Alejandro Amenábar, barely 25 when he directed this, already displayed a remarkable command of tone and atmosphere. Following his impressive debut Thesis (1996), Open Your Eyes cemented his status as a major international talent (he'd later give us the chilling Nicole Kidman ghost story, The Others). Working with co-writer Mateo Gil, he crafts a narrative puzzle box where every detail seems significant, yet interpretation remains fluid. The film reportedly had a modest budget, even for Spanish cinema at the time (around 300 million pesetas, roughly $2.5 million USD then), yet it feels remarkably polished and visually inventive. Its success was significant, garnering 10 Goya Award nominations (Spain's equivalent of the Oscars), winning for Best Sound.
One interesting tidbit involves the iconic opening scene: César driving through a completely deserted Gran Vía in Madrid. This wasn't CGI trickery, which would have been prohibitively expensive. Instead, Amenábar and his crew managed to secure permission to shut down one of Madrid's busiest central avenues for a few hours very early on a Sunday morning in August 1996. Capturing that haunting emptiness practically adds a whole other layer of unease right from the start – imagine seeing that on your way to grab the morning paper!
The Lingering Echo
Open Your Eyes isn't just a thriller with a twist; it delves into deeper questions about identity, the nature of memory, the allure of manufactured happiness, and the consequences of our choices. What constitutes a life well-lived? Is blissful ignorance preferable to harsh reality? The film doesn't offer easy answers, leaving the viewer suspended in ambiguity, much like its protagonist. Its deliberate pacing and reliance on psychological tension over outright action might have felt unusual nestled amongst the louder blockbusters on the video store shelf, but that's precisely what made it stand out. It demands patience, attention, and a willingness to get lost in its complexities.
For those of us who stumbled upon it back in the day, maybe on a late-night TV broadcast or as a curious rental gamble, Open Your Eyes left a distinct mark. It was proof that compelling, mind-bending cinema existed outside the Hollywood mainstream, often tucked away, waiting to be discovered.
Rating: 9/10
This score reflects the film's masterful construction, its deeply unsettling atmosphere, Noriega's captivating central performance, and its enduring power to provoke thought long after the credits roll. It's a near-perfect execution of a high-concept psychological thriller, crafted with intelligence and confidence. It loses a single point perhaps only because its deliberate ambiguity might frustrate viewers seeking concrete resolution, but even that feels like part of its core identity.
Final Thought: Decades later, the question posed by Open Your Eyes still resonates: If reality becomes unbearable, would you choose a beautiful dream, even if it isn't real? And could you ever truly know the difference?