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This review may contain spoilers
When therapy gets a costume department
This is the kind of drama where you just have to shrug, suspend disbelief, and roll with the madness. I mean, who has the funding to recreate an entire period drama as part of a psychiatric treatment plan? Are we sure this isn't some kind of experimental influencer rehab program? With a snap of a finger or two, suddenly they are able to secure a full-blown historical film set, and apparently, every hospital staff member—from doctors to nurses—is fully committed to the bit. No one's treating other patients. It's giving “method acting” meets “medical malpractice.”
Once you buy into the absurd premise, the unraveling begins—and not in the usual narrative arc sense. The real fun kicks in when the internal logic of the "costume therapy" starts to fray. Watching characters switch gears between acting out ancient court drama and remembering they're supposed to be caretakers? Comedy gold. It’s more chaotic than it is tragic, and honestly, the awkward transitions and misplaced grandeur only made me laugh harder.
For what’s clearly a low-budget production, the acting felt surprisingly natural. No one’s trying to win awards, but they all knew the assignment—and delivered it with heart. The plot dances with transmigration tropes, but there's a sneaky twist I didn’t expect, and it kept me guessing without going off the rails. This is duanju done right: inventive, self-aware, and just the right level of quirky. It pushes boundaries without feeling bloated or desperate.
If you’re in the mood for something that juggles absurdity and sincerity with equal flair, A Lucid Dream serves it up with a wink and a side of institutional cosplay.
Once you buy into the absurd premise, the unraveling begins—and not in the usual narrative arc sense. The real fun kicks in when the internal logic of the "costume therapy" starts to fray. Watching characters switch gears between acting out ancient court drama and remembering they're supposed to be caretakers? Comedy gold. It’s more chaotic than it is tragic, and honestly, the awkward transitions and misplaced grandeur only made me laugh harder.
For what’s clearly a low-budget production, the acting felt surprisingly natural. No one’s trying to win awards, but they all knew the assignment—and delivered it with heart. The plot dances with transmigration tropes, but there's a sneaky twist I didn’t expect, and it kept me guessing without going off the rails. This is duanju done right: inventive, self-aware, and just the right level of quirky. It pushes boundaries without feeling bloated or desperate.
If you’re in the mood for something that juggles absurdity and sincerity with equal flair, A Lucid Dream serves it up with a wink and a side of institutional cosplay.
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