Written by Grady Fiorio
Original Publishing Date: June 1st, 2022
Rating 4/5
It's an experience man, It's an experience
It's incredibly bold for a filmmaker to demand that you experience their film on its own terms, or you don't get to experience it at all. Memoria is the most recent release from Thai arthouse director, Apichatpong Weerasethakul (who I will refer to as AW to save us both some time). Memoria has garnered recent headlines for its unusual distribution method. Acquired by Neon, Memoria made its premiere at the 2021 Cannes Film Festival. It became notable for its "never-ending" release. The film is only, and will only, be released in theaters, never getting a home or streaming release. The other stipulation (at least in the U.S.) is that the film will only play in one theater, with one audience, for one week. This was later adjusted to have a few extra theaters added to increase the film's visibility, while still maintaining its theater-only requirement, and forgoing a traditional wide release. When I saw that the film was finally touring my area, I jumped at the chance to see it at a 10 pm Sunday night screening, as almost every other showing was sold out. However, I think this is the best way to experience this film. Ideally (albeit the chance of this happening is quite low) the best way to see Memoria is in an empty theater, late at night. Just you and the film.
Now, this is the part where you are probably asking yourself "Why?“ Why this release model? Why see it late at night at an empty theater? Is this some kind of weird porno that nobody should know I watched? To answer your questions, no. That's generally saved for European films. At the risk of sound pretentious Memoria is an "experience" film. Similar to films like Enter the Void, 2001 A Space Odyssey, or Eraserhead. It's not straightforward and it's not the kind of movie you watch, but rather let happen. When the lights dim and the film starts, it encompasses your entire being for its meaty 2-hour 20-minute run time. While that movie is on, and that projector is flickering, you're in its world, on its terms. When I walked into the theater the usher scanned my ticket and told me that he had just seen the prior screening. I asked him "Was it good?". To which he existentially responded, "It's an experience man, It's an experience." No words could describe Memoria better.
It's probably important to state first and foremost that Memoria is a film that is best to go into blind. Go in knowing as little as possible and just let it happen. The only thing you should know about this film before going in is its pacing. This is the slow burn of all slow burns. Like Tarkovsky’s Stalker on crack. When you see this film be in the proper mindset. It… is… sloooooow. The majority of scenes are comprised of only one or two static shots, and lasting 15+ minutes. It will test your patience as an audience member, but if you can stick it through, it is very rewarding.
Memoria is a film that I found deeply resonating, definitely recommend, and have no intention of watching again. Now that's kind of an odd statement to make, but it's true. I honestly did enjoy this film and really connected with it on a soulful level, but I can't really see myself watching this anytime soon , or even watch it again for that sake, unrelated to the release model. Memoria is a film heavy in nature. The kind of thing that you watch once. Not in a Requiem for a Dream, Saving Private Ryan kind of way, but a "I felt like I just had open heart surgery done on my soul and I need to go watch an episode of Spongebob so I can calm down" kind of way. With that note, I’m going to be going into more detail about Memoria. I won’t be spoiling it, but from this point on, you’ve been warned.
Memoria starts not with the film but rather with a short film by AW. This short does a pretty solid job at preparing you for what you're getting into. The short is about 10 minutes long and is made up of about seven still images, dubbed ”Preproduction and Research for Memoria 2017-2019“. Catchy title, I know. Probably the same dufus that thought "Men in Red Woolen Shirts" just rolled right off the tongue. The short is completely silent and is essentially a slide show of seven images of various landscapes in Colombia, with superimposed preproduction notes and drawings appearing on screen. This short starts off slow, but shortly becomes hypnotic, ever so inching you into the world that you will eventually become fully submerged in. It's a fitting start to the event, if a bit long in the shorts.
Then begins the real deal. The film opens with a loud bang. An indescribable, but unforgettable sound. In the early morning, this sound wakes Jessica, our main protagonist played by Tilda Swinton. Assuming this noise came from construction being done nearby, she brushes it off and goes about her day. Soon this sound once again rears its ugly head, and it soon becomes apparent that Jessica is the only one hearing this noise. She visits a sound engineer in hopes of recreating the noise and finding its origin. The rest of the film revolves around Jessica trying to discover the mystery around this sound. And like previously mentioned, the less said the better.
Memoria's strength lies in its direction. Extremely minimalistic but purposeful at every step. AW is in complete control, only letting you see and hear what he wants you to see and hear. This is where the theater-only release starts to come into play. As you may have guessed, sound design plays a large role in Memoria. Vast amounts of the film are filled with silence, deafening silence, that makes every single sound that much more impactful. The loud bang is a shock to the eardrums, almost like some weird arthouse version of a jumpscare. The effect of this silence becomes most apparent when the film finally introduces its one and only piece of music. About halfway through the film, a live band plays free-form jazz. With the audio so expertly mixed, it finally clicked why AW only wants this to be seen in a theater. This one short moment felt like a spiritual experience. The film is heavily emotional in itself, but this solitary scene just becomes so overwhelming that you can't help but be paralyzed by it. At a certain point, I just closed my eyes and soaked in every single note of the song. After so much silence this scene felt like hearing music for the first time. Even though I didn't entirely understand what the film was trying to communicate to me at that moment, I didn't have to because I felt it. Everything just clicked in a way I couldn't describe. Sitting dead center of the theater it felt like the film was watching me, just as much as I was watching it.
Mirroring its sound design, the visual style is just as minimalistic, as it is purposeful. The takes are long, unmoving, and unbroken. It's as if Tarkovsky never found out that dollies existed. Just like the previous short film, Memoria proves to be quite hypnotic. AW also takes this chance to direct your eyes to exactly what he wants you to see. Just like the sound, every single movement that does happen, as infrequent as it may be, becomes that much more important and significant.
When it comes to Memoria, the devil is in the details, and the details are abound. It's up to the viewer to make sense of them. This brings us to the film's end. An ending that can only be described as completely and wholly unexpected. The ending is so unexpected and so ambiguous, that it will surely divide audiences, even those who were completely on board with the rest of the over-the-top arthouse nature of the film. While I won't go into any details or spoilers per se, I will talk about my very general interpretation of the film. Even though the ending was far from what I expected, I still found it to be fairly in tune with the rest of the film, after spending a whole day thinking about it. I think the grander message is that of the importance of empathy. We as an entire human race have lost touch with one another and with nature. However, empathy is the key. The key to living a full and compassionate life. A life where we live for each other and the greater world around us. The only way to grasp the full weight of another's lived experience is to learn from them and their memories. Sometimes we just need a little outside push to understand what that means.
Memoria is a slow but grand piece of cinema. While it may leave many unsatisfied with its strange ending, those who take in the film and are willing to play by its rules will find themselves rewarded with a film that taps into something deep and primal within all of us. Something that can only be described as... an experience.
Director Apichatpong Weerasethakul
Runtime 2 Hr 16 Min
Format 35mm
Release Date 2022 ("Wide")