Memory might be Michel Franco’s most cheerful film to date, even though the film centers on an alcoholic who is dealing with the aftereffects of child abuse. The Mexican filmmaker, renowned for his brutal and merciless storylines (Chronic, After Lucia), is sometimes compared to a cinematic sadist who gets pleasure from causing his characters as much suffering as possible. This time, though, the tale featuring his signature brand of caustic screenplay finds a more upbeat tone, bordering on feel-good as it explores the idea of redemption.
When we first meet Sylvia (Jessica Chastain), a recovering addict who assists persons with learning problems, it’s not immediately apparent what that means. Her life is well arranged, as shown by her gloomy expression: AA meetings, a strict schedule for taking care of the kids, and a home security system a la Fort Knox. Sylvia’s barriers gradually go down once she meets Saul (Peter Sarsgaard), a nice but confused former classmate. merely to demonstrate to us how far abuse can spread, entwining and pulling beneath the surface.
The same thing that makes memory so alluring is the way it holds its cards close to the vest.
Unexpectedly, Franco produced a perceptive film about the precarity of trauma recovery. The way Sylvia treats Saul in the woods without his Emergency Contact lanyard, saying, “You deserve to be the way you are,” demonstrates how the road to recovery may turn into a minefield at the first sign of danger or stress. Although Sylvia isn’t a perfect victim, her past has made her a conflicted person who frequently defies social norms.
In contrast to Chastain, Sarsgaard is just as deserving. Saul’s dementia is not only portrayed as a source of pain, but also as a tool that can improve his empathy. For example, when Sylvia shares a distressing memory with him, he asks to have it recorded so he won’t forget it. This is just one of many heartwarming moments. Rather than letting him ramble on and on about his condition, the filmmaker employs some really clever editing techniques: Saul enters the screen out of focus at first, and then he speaks while being framed from the neck down. These creative moves emphasize Saul’s cognitive muddle and the division between his body and mind. Does he have a lovesickness? Is he imprisoned by looping ideas in a foggy mental state? Or is that sometimes just the same thing?
Many movies with themes similar to this one may seem cheesy in their attempts to evoke strong emotions. However, Memory feels so engrossing precisely because it keeps its cards close to the vest, with the exception of a few needless exposition moments.