Screener provided as part of MIFF 2024
With heavy handed issues such as dementia and rape, films always run the risk of oversimplification and misrepresentation in less-than capable hands. Michel Franco’s Memory (2023) tackles these issues with a sincerity and empathy that doesn’t demote or reduce them, but rather examines them from the perspective of two struggling souls.
It’s through Sylvia (Jessica Chastain), a recovered alcoholic who was raped when she was 12, and Saul (Peter Sarsgaard), a widower with onset dementia, that Franco’s examination unfolds. If the situations of the two aforementioned characters are anything to go by, Memory is the sort of film that could very easily tailspin into, and be written off as, a grim and depressing sob story that treads old ground that similar films have already excelled at (like 2020’s The Father); fortunately, it does not.
The film’s tone is set from the outset, with Sylvia attending an AA meeting with her daughter, immediately establishing the sort of emotional roller-coaster that awaits. Clearly in a better place in her life now, Sylvia’s past deliberately remains unclear for most of the film (at least until a wider reveal in the third act) to ensure that enough tension remains throughout the modest 99-minute runtime.
Franco frames her as uneasy and on-edge, as she pedantically locks her apartment door, sets her alarms and assumes a guarded position when in uncomfortable situations, something that she extends to her daughter in an instinctively maternal, but overprotective, way.
It’s not until an evening at a high-school reunion, that the direction of Memory becomes clear. Sylvia is followed home by a man who casually approached and sat next to her, going so far as to sleep outside of her apartment in a tyre with nothing but a rubbish bag as a blanket. Saul is his name, and Sylvia quickly finds out that he’s not well.
It’s from here that Franco takes the duo and their past and current problems, and uses them as a catalyst for exploring how peoples situations and serious problems can so easily be reduced by those closest to them, that these people ultimately gravitate towards other troubled souls to find solace and understanding. And that approach is felt mainly because Chastain and Sarsgaard deliver profoundly moving and complex performances. The duo capture the trauma and pain their characters are going through in a way that elevates what, on paper, could have been a very basic thematic exercise that comfortably ticks the sort of boxes you’d expect from a film about grief.
Sarsgaard is subtle as Saul, giving enough from his performance to capture a man who is on the brink of losing his sense of self, while never losing the warmth he brings that draws you in; in this way, I was reminded a lot of Robin Williams’ Oscar-winning performance in 1997’s Good Will Hunting. Chastain is just as compelling, playing off of Sarsgaard effortlessly, and giving greater depth to Sylvia the more the two are on the screen together, slowly opening up as she builds trust for him after being asked to be his caretaker by his brother. It’s hard to take your eyes off of them, and if there is something that will stick with you beyond the end credits, it’s definitely the choices they make in bringing these characters to life.
Bubbling beneath the surface of the film’s central duo is a dysfunctional family thread that, while relevant in understanding the circumstances of Sylvia’s situation, does almost pop up at a wobbly moment. That said, it speaks to the idea that there never really is a great time to confront your past, especially when it’s as harrowing as Sylvia’s — it just presents itself in a tacked-on kind of fashion (especially when the film is at its strongest when it’s solely with Sylvia and Saul).
While the relationship that develops between Sylvia and Saul might not sit comfortably with everyone (given Saul’s growing dementia and need for specialist care), Memory asks its audience to see beyond circumstance and try to empathise with two damaged human beings who understand each other more than their own families do — something that its non-ending ending, invites.
Memory will be screening as part of MIFF 2024 in August.
