Before I Go to Sleep

In a quiet suburban world where the familiar becomes a maze, Christine Lucas awakens each morning to a blank slate. Struggling with anterograde amnesia, she discovers that the life she thought she left behind is stitched together from fragments: a bedside camera, handwritten notes, and the steady presence of the man she calls husband, Ben. The daily routine is a delicate ritual of recording thoughts and questions, a lifeline that allows her to track the slow emergence of memory while keeping the unsettling feeling that something essential is still missing.

Guiding her through this fragile reconstruction is Mike Nasch, a compassionate neuropsychologist who offers both professional support and personal encouragement. He suggests the camera as a private diary, urging discretion as they navigate the thin line between healing and intrusion. Their sessions blend clinical observation with genuine empathy, creating a space where Christine can explore the edges of her identity without the pressure of immediate answers. The tone remains intimate and tense, a quiet psychological thriller that lingers in the shadows of everyday domesticity.

As Christine pieces together clues about her past, the presence of other lingering figures—most notably the enigmatic red‑haired woman who once reached out from a place of care—adds layers of intrigue. Trust becomes a central theme: she must decide how much to rely on Ben’s explanations, how to interpret Mike’s guidance, and whether the fragments she uncovers truly belong to her. The film’s atmosphere is one of measured suspense, a slow‑burning curiosity that keeps the audience questioning what is real and what might still be concealed behind the comforting surface of family life.

Last Updated: August 10, 2025 at 05:03