MEMORIA (2022) Written and Directed by Apichatpong Weerasethakul / Cinematographer: Sayombhu Mukdeeprom / Design: Angélica Perea / Editor: Lee Chatametikool / Composer: César López / Cast: Tilda Swinton, Agnes Brekke, Daniel Giménez Cacho, Jerónimo Barón, Juan Pablo Urrego, Jeanne Balibar, & Elkin Díaz / Countries of origin: Colombia, Thailand, France, Germany, Mexico, Qatar, Britain, China, USA, Switzerland, Taiwan, Japan, Netherlands, and Hong Kong / Distributor: Neon / Rated PG / Running Time: 136 mins.
Where I hail from, “It’s not for everyone” is Marks-speak for “Come and get it!” There are worse things than standing firmly in the minority, eager and curious to behold something splendidly different. Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s Memoria is just that. Jessica (Tilda Swinton) awakens to the sound of a thud. The resulting reverb sets the slumbering autos in a nearby parking garage flashing and honking. Unless Jessica is telekinetic, the thud had to be real. The cars felt it, didn’t they? And so do we — repeatedly — making this the only high-art subtitled release ever to unleash more jump-scares than a Scream sequel.
The film is a slow-burning series of blackouts punctuated by the occasional burst of absurdity. A bank robber making his getaway on foot hits the deck upon mistaking a bus backfire for a bullet. Dining alfresco with a friend, Jessica recites half of a poem she wrote and tops it off with a whimsical magic trick involving an evolving scarf. Desiring to determine the source of the thunder, Jessica consults a sound designer. When asked to describe what the sound sounds like, she responds with something along the lines of, “Did you hear the one about the big ball of concrete that fell into a metal well which was surrounded by seawater?” He hadn’t.
Jessica’s pet thud returns to interrupt the dinner conversation, only this time, she’s the only one of a party of four to hear it. She ignores it, knowing full well that her dinner companions would probably have her fitted for a strait-jacket if she spoke up. At this point I was convinced that the source of the inscrutable sound would remain a mystery long after the picture ended. Surprise of surprises! The source of the mysterious sound was the same cop-out every Star Wars knockoff relies on: the proverbial spaceship swooping down through the stratosphere to save the day. Well played, Weerasethakul! ****
Now Playing at The Digital Gym.
MEMORIA (2022) Written and Directed by Apichatpong Weerasethakul / Cinematographer: Sayombhu Mukdeeprom / Design: Angélica Perea / Editor: Lee Chatametikool / Composer: César López / Cast: Tilda Swinton, Agnes Brekke, Daniel Giménez Cacho, Jerónimo Barón, Juan Pablo Urrego, Jeanne Balibar, & Elkin Díaz / Countries of origin: Colombia, Thailand, France, Germany, Mexico, Qatar, Britain, China, USA, Switzerland, Taiwan, Japan, Netherlands, and Hong Kong / Distributor: Neon / Rated PG / Running Time: 136 mins.
Where I hail from, “It’s not for everyone” is Marks-speak for “Come and get it!” There are worse things than standing firmly in the minority, eager and curious to behold something splendidly different. Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s Memoria is just that. Jessica (Tilda Swinton) awakens to the sound of a thud. The resulting reverb sets the slumbering autos in a nearby parking garage flashing and honking. Unless Jessica is telekinetic, the thud had to be real. The cars felt it, didn’t they? And so do we — repeatedly — making this the only high-art subtitled release ever to unleash more jump-scares than a Scream sequel.
The film is a slow-burning series of blackouts punctuated by the occasional burst of absurdity. A bank robber making his getaway on foot hits the deck upon mistaking a bus backfire for a bullet. Dining alfresco with a friend, Jessica recites half of a poem she wrote and tops it off with a whimsical magic trick involving an evolving scarf. Desiring to determine the source of the thunder, Jessica consults a sound designer. When asked to describe what the sound sounds like, she responds with something along the lines of, “Did you hear the one about the big ball of concrete that fell into a metal well which was surrounded by seawater?” He hadn’t.
Jessica’s pet thud returns to interrupt the dinner conversation, only this time, she’s the only one of a party of four to hear it. She ignores it, knowing full well that her dinner companions would probably have her fitted for a strait-jacket if she spoke up. At this point I was convinced that the source of the inscrutable sound would remain a mystery long after the picture ended. Surprise of surprises! The source of the mysterious sound was the same cop-out every Star Wars knockoff relies on: the proverbial spaceship swooping down through the stratosphere to save the day. Well played, Weerasethakul! ****
Now Playing at The Digital Gym.