‘The Cure for Insomnia’: the strange tale of an 87-hour movie
A recurring complaint levelled against the movie industry in recent times is that films have become too long for their own good. Self-indulgence regularly takes precedence over the necessity to create an increasing sense of bloat across everything from micro-budget indies to effects-heavy blockbusters.
Obviously, there’s no mandate for how long or short a feature needs to be, something John Henry Timmis IV seemingly took as a challenge when he decided that 5,220 minutes was the ideal amount of time to get his point across. Not that there’s much of a point to The Cure for Insomnia when its existence appears to be living up to its title and nothing more.
Under most circumstances, setting a world record for being the longest movie in history would be the standout aspect and most notable aspect of any production. Befitting its bizarre conception and equally curious nature, though, The Cure for Insomnia has cultivated a legacy so odd that it’s almost become a cult item by default.
Timmis’ 87-hour marathon doesn’t have any plot or characters, with its exorbitant running time dedicated exclusively to elusive and eccentric poet and visual artist L.D. Groban reading his poem A Cure for Insomnia in full. The text itself clocks in at a meaty 4,080 pages, but when committing it to film, the director opted to change a single word and make his epic feature a more definitive article.
That’s less than a page a minute, which makes it an endurance test like no other. To try and break up the monotony, some images and clips are spliced in to spice things up a touch because nothing screams ‘three-day poetry recital’ quite like footage from heavy metal videos and pornography.
The closest thing The Cure for Insomnia had to a premiere was when it played at Chicago’s School of the Art Institute between January 31st and February 3rd of 1987, and that was pretty much it. It’s never been released on DVD or home video, and it’s a Holy Grail item for many captivated by its blend of mundanity and insanity, with rumours abound that not a single copy remains in existence.
Timmis and Groban are both dead, having passed away in 2002 and 2011, respectively, which only served to ratchet up the fascination levels in their offbeat collaboration. Even if The Cure for Insomnia did return to the public eye and was made readily available for mass consumption, realistically, how many people would even take up such a daunting offer?
Folks these days can barely comprehend a three-hour movie without getting bored and scrolling through their phones, so committing to three days is a ridiculously tall order. As the old saying goes, however, there is indeed an arse for every seat in the world, so there’s no doubt going to be many salivating at the prospect of eagerly devouring 87 hours of complete and utter nothingness.