Memento
Written and Directed by Christopher Nolan
From a short story by Jonathan Nolan
Starring: Guy Pearce, Carrie-Anne Moss, Joe Pantoliano,
Mark Boone, Jr., Jorja Fox
Stephen
Tobolowsky, Harriet Harris and Callum Keith Rennie.
(opens March 30 @ the Ritz)
* * * *
(Four Stars)
The most skillful directors
know that the big hurdle, or at least the one that makes you a true showman,
is making a grand spectacle of confusion - tying together the strings at
the end of a complicated, involving narrative in such a way that the audience
is coaxed into revisiting the film in their thoughts* and giving their
head a good, hard smacking to the tune of, "of course". Certainly the director
of Memento, one of the most exciting films in years, knows this.
Christopher Nolan tells the story of Leanord, a man unable to make new
memories or remember things of the long term sort. As if that weren't interesting
enough, Nolan does us one better, inviting the audience inside Leanord's
mind by telling the story backwards (as if to say that when you have this
"condition", everything must be attacked from the ending first and built
back to where it began). Watching this film, besides being one of the most
forcefully engaging experiences you're likely to have in the theater, is
an exercise. The film works to strengthen your perception as you juggle
several pieces of information and struggle to adapt them with one another
fast enough to gather the next set of facts. This is a game. One of the
greatest things about Memento is all of the elemental motions it
utilizes to create this story. It is not a comedy, but it is funny. It
is not film noir, but it sure feels like one. It is not a thriller, though
few films of recent have been as thrilling. Memento feels like a
puzzle movie (a genre in need of recognition, with contenders like Vagabond
and The Usual Suspects).
In fact, seeing Memento, which presents you
with about three films worth of information almost all at once, primed
to be devoured and analyzed, is a little bit like losing your mind. Scenes
fade in and out of our focus, keeping the pace steady and the attention
span short. Since it is both entertainment as well as a slice of what it
is like to have a loss of short term memory, Memento is allowed
to bypass classification as a collection of vignettes (without the dividing
line that comes with that type of film). Everything in Memento is
sewn into it, seamlessly operating even when Nolan flip flops things suddenly
(which he does often). Little scenes bang on and off and the next thing
you know, you're starting forget things at hand, remember other things
and practice a constant re-evaluation. Like a powerful drug, the kind that
can change who you are for a short period, this is a film that overwhelms
the mind with a strong sense that we've taken the gist of Leanord's incapability
into our own consciousness.
As Leanord, Guy Pearce demonstrates his usual cool
under the cloth of professional, nerdy intellectualism. Like memories,
he brings elements of past performances into a thrilling focus (the spectacle-clad,
sharp as a tack Exeley from L.A. Confidential and the wary, exhausted
determination of Boyd from Ravenous). He's lost his short term memory
and he sounds unbelievably authentic doing it.
Leanord is a man on a mission of revenge, though
he forgets why. Nolan gives us obsession without subtlety as Leanord tattoos
himself with the facts of the mission ("John G. raped and murdered your
wife" is scrawled backwards across his sternum). He carries a dossier the
size of three bibles with him everywhere he goes. He carries a chart bearing
his trademark Polaroid's of the main characters, listing on the front and
back of each picture essential things he needs to know (but cannot remember).
He constantly refers to all of these visual aids. He repeats the phrase,
"Have I told you about my condition" to which his pal Teddy (Pantaliano)
responds to several times with a hearty, "Every time I see you ". Coincidental
stranger Natalie, Leanord's informant, asks him whether or not he will
remember her the next time he sees her. "Probably not, but don't take it
personally", he smirks. Later, he even begins to wake up in strange places
and, like a drunk who got lucky, wonders where he is and how he got there.
These little rules and gimmicks of the chinese box that is Memento
keep it fun and interesting.
The joy of watching Memento is how
blissfully confused it makes us, and how thoroughly writer-director Christopher
Nolan delights and excels in the ability to mask, conceal, pinhole, divert,
distort and red herring his way around being forthright. Refreshing cinematic
jitters, the high of immersion and the punch-drunk stagger of seeing an
enigma come together (not unlike the first viewings of The Usual Suspects
or Pulp Fiction) delivers its euphoric head through the door frame
of our psyche with the impact of a tire iron to the noggin. After
the film ends, you feel exhilarated, unable to concentrate on any one thing
and lost in the blur of cinematic intoxication.
* - - - Memento requires subsequent viewings in order to deepen
the reward or, for some audience members, to figure it the hell out.
home
2001