I went to see this really clever film and wrote my mini-review right away so that all the details would be crisp and available to me. I probably should have taken notes during the film, but bear with me if the facts get kinda fuzzy.
The film stars Guy Pearce, who quietly stole the show in L.A. Confidential playing the uncorruptable cop who figures out exactly who Rollo Tomasi is. This is kinda a Rollo Tomasi story. He has a memory problem, short term, new memories aren't stored. He can recall, with perfect clarity all and any bits of his life prior to his wife's rape and murder.
Pearce wades through a tangle of clues, aided and impeded by Carrie Anne Moss and Joe Pantliano (both were in The Matrix). Or are they? The question of who is a good guy, who is a victim, what someone's role is and the nature of their real identity is second only to the torture and certainty of Pearce's dilemma. Hitchcock would have loved this set-up, it has shades of Vertigo all over it. Is it really madness if you are correct in your assumptions? Is it wrong if you are right? Is reality truly plastic, a construct of a collective assumption or agreement of those present and available to participate or is reality an absolute?
Should you find yourself with an inability to store new memories, find a secure, consistent method for recordkeeping. Be sure to note down each occurence in your daily existence. Hope that you do not have to solve a mystery, even if that is your remembered occupation. It's no way to live.