If you’ve spent any time in the Silver Lake or Echo Park music scenes, you know that specific flavor of desperation. It’s a mix of overpriced lattes and the crushing weight of a demo tape that nobody is listening to. Singing in My Sleep captures this perfectly. It isn't a blockbuster. It’s a scrappy, independent feature film that feels more like a home movie from your coolest, most talented friend.
The movie follows a struggling singer-songwriter named Mallory. She's played by Ariadna Joseph. Mallory is basically every person who moved to Los Angeles with a guitar and a dream but ended up working a service job while her soul slowly chipped away. She’s grieving. She’s stuck. And then, she finds her late father’s unfinished song.
This isn't a "Star is Born" moment. It’s quieter. It’s about the labor of creativity.
What the Singing in My Sleep Film Gets Right About Indie Life
Most movies about musicians are fake. They feature these polished "organic" performances that clearly had a million-dollar mixing board behind them. Singing in My Sleep feels different because it embraces the grit. You can almost smell the stale beer in the venues.
The film was directed by Nick Esdaile and Joe J. Walker. They clearly weren't interested in a glossy Hollywood version of the industry. Instead, they focused on the mundane. The repetition. The way a song can haunt you.
The plot kicks into gear when Mallory discovers she’s actually singing in her sleep. Literally. It’s a parasomnia thing, but used as a narrative device to show how her subconscious is trying to process her father's death through the music he left behind.
It's a clever hook.
But the movie doesn't lean too hard into the medical "mystery" of it. It’s more of a character study. We see Mallory navigating a world where everyone wants something from her, but she barely has enough for herself. The supporting cast, including Patrick Bergin, brings a level of weight to the production that you don't always see in ultra-low-budget indies.
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Why the Soundtrack is the Real Star
You can't have a movie called Singing in My Sleep if the music sucks. Honestly, most indie films fail here. They use generic royalty-free sounding tracks.
This film didn't do that.
The songs are haunting. They feel lived-in. They have that "recorded in a bedroom at 3 AM" quality that defines the modern indie-folk genre. When Mallory is piecing together her father's unfinished work, the music feels like a bridge between the past and the present. It’s authentic.
Ariadna Joseph actually performs. Her voice isn't some Auto-Tuned powerhouse; it’s vulnerable and thin in the right places, making the emotional stakes feel much higher. You’ve probably seen bigger movies with more famous faces that didn't move you half as much as a single scene of her humming over a keyboard in a dimly lit apartment.
The Production Reality of Singing in My Sleep
Let's talk about how this movie actually got made. It’s a lesson in persistence.
The directors, Esdaile and Walker, have a background in music videos and short-form content. You can see that influence in the cinematography. It’s tactile. They use a lot of natural light and close-ups that feel almost claustrophobic. It makes sense. Mallory is trapped in her own head.
- It was filmed on a shoestring budget.
- The crew was tiny.
- They shot in real Los Angeles locations, avoiding the "tourist" spots for the actual neighborhoods where musicians live.
This wasn't a project backed by a major studio. It was a "blood, sweat, and tears" type of production. They launched a Kickstarter. They grinded. They did the festivals. This matters because the "Singing in My Sleep" film mirrors the journey of its protagonist. It’s a meta-narrative on the struggle to be seen in a crowded room.
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The Critics vs. The Fans
The reception was interesting. If you look at the reviews from major outlets, they often focus on the "slow pace." But if you talk to people who actually play music, they love it.
Why? Because music is slow. It’s boring. It’s ninety percent waiting for a spark and ten percent execution.
The film captures the "in-between" moments. The way a conversation at a bar can lead to a breakthrough, or how a broken string can feel like a sign from the universe to give up. Some critics missed the point. They wanted a traditional three-act structure with a big performance at the end.
The film gives you something else. It gives you closure, but it’s the messy, realistic kind.
Practical Takeaways for Indie Film Lovers
If you're looking to watch the Singing in My Sleep film, don't expect a fast-paced thriller. This is a "vibes" movie in the best way possible.
You should watch it if you're interested in:
- Authentic portrayals of the Los Angeles music scene.
- Character-driven stories about grief and healing.
- Supporting independent filmmakers who actually take risks.
It's currently available on various VOD platforms like Amazon Prime and Apple TV, depending on your region. It’s the kind of movie that thrives on word-of-mouth because it doesn't have a $50 million marketing budget.
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How to Support Projects Like This
The film industry is changing. Big studios are playing it safe with sequels and reboots. Small films like this are where the real innovation is happening.
If you want more movies like this, you have to actually pay for them. Rent it. Don't just wait for it to pop up on a subscription service you already have. Tell someone about it. Post about it. The "Singing in My Sleep" film exists because a group of people believed in a story about a girl who sings in the dark.
Final Insights on the Musical Parasomnia Genre
Is "musical parasomnia" a real thing? Sort of. While "catathrenia" (nocturnal groaning) is a documented sleep disorder, the idea of composing and singing full, coherent songs in your sleep is more of a poetic license.
But that's okay.
Movies are allowed to stretch the truth to get to a deeper emotional reality. In this case, the "singing" is a metaphor for the things we can't say when we're awake. Mallory can't talk about her dad. She can't talk about her failures. So, she sings them while she’s unconscious.
It’s a beautiful concept.
The film ends on a note that feels earned. It doesn't promise Mallory fame. It doesn't promise her a record deal. It promises her a way forward. That is a much more honest ending than most of the trash coming out of the major studios lately.
Next Steps for Viewers:
To get the most out of the experience, watch the film with a decent pair of headphones or speakers. The sound design is layered, and the subtle background noises of Los Angeles play a huge role in the atmosphere. Once you've finished the film, look up the soundtrack on Spotify to hear the full versions of the songs Mallory was "composing" throughout the story. Supporting the musicians who contributed to the score is the best way to ensure this specific style of indie filmmaking continues to survive.