Please note that this Reminiscence film is a debut directorial work of Lisa Joy, who, together with her husband Jonathan Nolan, wrote the script for Westworld. More than a weighty item in the portfolio: Joy knows how to lure into complex Universes and knows how to make the viewer forget about plot flaws, immersing him in the realities of a brave new world. In the case of Memories, this movie effect of forgiveness breaks off immediately after the end of the opening act.
It would all work if it were not for the protagonist, chewing snot with and without reason. Nick’s tragedy feels overweight and far-fetched. Blinded now by love, now by the thirst for revenge, now by a heightened sense of justice, he wanders around post-apocalyptic America as in a song about a fool who “walks through the forest, looking more stupid than himself.”
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It reminds me of watching old slashers, when my gut boils over from the question: “Why are you rushing there?” And the point is not zero motivation or logical miscalculations; but the fact that imitating the tart image of a noir hero on serious cabbage soup is a difficult task. Especially in the context of science fiction with a claim to depth and grandiloquent statements about the “past, which is better not to look into.” Kitsch is kitsch because, without proper presentation, it turns from a cool narrative device into an unconvincing theatrical circle.
With cool camera work on board, with a heartfelt soundtrack in a holster; and an attractive setting in a pocket, the film manages to somehow stay afloat. But only as a tape suitable for one-time visual meditation. With an eye on the picture “like in Blade Runner 2049”, but without regard to its content. Up to a worthy neo-noir, capable of combining and rethinking, “Memories” crawl and crawl. But it was shot beautifully, and for those who like to stick to something unjustifiably viscous, it is quite suitable.
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