Video games have also explored the theme of sleeping or dormant characters, often within the context of a chosen one narrative or a magical curse. Games like "The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt" feature characters and quests centered around awakening, prophecy, and the burden of destiny.
As we move further into the age of artificial intelligence and deepfakes, the ethics of de chicas dormidas entertainment content become urgent. Already, deepfake pornography has targeted female celebrities in simulated sleep states. AI-generated “sleeping girl” art proliferates on DeviantArt and Civitai, raising questions: Who consented to be rendered? What happens when the sleeping girl is 100% synthetic but 100% realistic?
Streaming platforms like Netflix and HBO Max are beginning to implement content warnings for scenes depicting non-consensual sleeping observation. Meanwhile, Spanish and Latin American filmmakers are pioneering an ethical framework for representing vulnerable women: the Protocolo Bella Durmiente (Sleeping Beauty Protocol), which requires that any scene featuring a chica dormida must either be balanced by a scene of that same character exercising agency, or be explicitly critiqued within the narrative. Video games have also explored the theme of
Controversial but wildly popular, “sleeping prank” videos involve recording a female friend or partner while asleep—drawing on her face, whispering things, or moving objects. While framed as comedy, these videos frequently spark debates about consent. The keyword de chicas dormidas often appears in Spanish-language comments on these viral posts, indicating a cross-cultural fascination with the vulnerable, unwitting subject.
From a psychological perspective, the de chicas dormidas genre satisfies several deep-seated needs: Streaming platforms like Netflix and HBO Max are
The trope of the sleeping woman is ancient. Before cinema, there was the myth of Brynhildr (encircled by a wall of fire and magic sleep), the biblical story of Eve (crafted from Adam’s rib while he slept), and, most famously, Charles Perrault’s La Belle au bois dormant (The Sleeping Beauty). However, it was Disney’s 1959 Sleeping Beauty that codified the visual language of de chicas dormidas for mass entertainment: the pale, porcelain-skinned princess lying motionless, awaiting the “true love’s kiss” of a male savior.
But contemporary de chicas dormidas content has moved far beyond the fairy tale. By the 1980s and 1990s, the sleeping girl became a staple in horror and thriller genres. Films like A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) weaponized sleep, turning the dormancy of teenage girls into a battlefield. In the 2000s, the rise of medical dramas (House, Grey’s Anatomy) introduced a new variant: the comatose girl. Here, the chica dormida is not magical but medical—a patient whose body remains present but whose consciousness is absent, serving as a narrative mirror for grieving families and ambitious doctors. offering full consent.
Not necessarily. Many creators stage their own sleep content, offering full consent. However, a significant portion of viral media involves non-consenting subjects—dormmates, sisters, passengers on public transport. The ethical line blurs when the content is “just a joke” or “aesthetic.”
As technology advances, so will this genre.
Charles Perrault’s La Belle au bois dormant (1697) and the Brothers Grimm’s Little Briar Rose established the archetype: a beautiful young woman rendered passive by a curse, awaiting awakening through external intervention (typically a prince’s kiss). This narrative cemented several core elements: the eroticization of unconsciousness, the linking of female sleep to romantic destiny, and the idea that a woman’s stillness is a moment of potential transformation.