Memoria. (12.)
Directed by Apichatpong Weerasethakul
Starring Tilda Swinton, Jeanne Balibar, Elkin Diaz, Juan Pablo Urrigo and Daniel Gimenez Cacho. Partly subtitled. 137 mins.
Sometimes I might get to the end of a film and be left with a feeling that I’ve missed it; that there was something there but it slipped past me. Probably, that’s because I wasn’t bright enough to get it or got off on the wrong foot with it or wasn’t quite paying attention. I think this was the case with Memoria, though I did have a bit of an excuse. For its theatrical release, the distributors sent me a top-secret, highly confidential, screening link which had my name watermarked across the middle of the screen in big white letters, just so I couldn’t tap into that lucrative black market for Apichatpong Weerasethakul bootlegs and didn’t forget my own name while watching the film. (Always an issue.) I’m not necessarily the biggest Tilda fan but I think she deserves better than to have her face obscured by the big white H of Michael.
With Memoria, the sense of missing out is particularly acute because the film moves onto a higher plane in its final third, not long after I’d written it off as a dry attempt to copy the work of Mexican auteur Carlos Reygardos. So its Blu-ray release seemed like the perfect opportunity to give it another go, and do it properly this time.
Or maybe not; in the extras, Tilda and Apichatpong are both very insistent that this is a film that must, absolutely must, be seen in a cinema. (Initially the American release was going to be city by city, one screen at a time. That got abandoned, as did the pledge not to put it out on disc.) So, I’m still grasping towards a true experience of this and what follows is a rejigging of the initial review.
In the Champions League of world cinema, every part of the world has its one designated auteur (apart from a few more lucrative markets such as France, Italy, Japan and Korea which may have three or four entrants) who get to battle it out every season at Cannes and the like. At these pageants, the judges mark them according to solemnity, slowness and obscurity. Representing Thailand and surrounding South East Asian territories is Apichatpong Weerasethakul. In slow and inscrutable films like Syndromes and A Century, Cemetery of Splendour and Cannes winner Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall Past Lives he has marked himself out as a world cinema heavyweight with an incredibly light touch.
After a decade or so there comes the necessity to reach out from the subtitled world and make your first English language film. Weerasethakul has blurred the lines somewhat by turning up in Colombia and making their official submission for the Oscars while having around half the dialogue in English. As the big name conduit to wider recognition, he’s secured the services of Tilda Swinton.
In the opening scene, she is woken by a loud primal noise. She starts to hear it repeatedly and becomes obsessed with finding out what it is. She describes it as a kind of sonic boom, though to me it could be the sound of a squash ball echoing around a court.
Swinton, who is listed as a producer on this, is clearly taking the responsibility very seriously: she isn’t doing fancy dress for this film. She does have an extraordinary capacity to be an incredibly forceful screen presence while remaining a blank canvass. Here, she looks washed out and pale, as if she might disappear into the various concrete expanses that make up downtown Bogota. (Her red hair often links her with Low-era Bowie but here she has a passing resemblance to Suede frontman Brett Anderson.) She moves through the film like a minor royal on an overseas tour who's shaken off her entourage; she is respectfully interested in what all the locals are upto but always a little adrift.
Narratively the film is stubbornly obtuse. We spend the whole time with the Swinton character, Jessica, but learn next to nothing about her. She claims to do something with flowers and does definitely have a sister (Balibar) but beyond that nothing is fixed.
Weerasethakul's aesthetics are something akin to a grenadier on Horse Guards Parade: inscrutable, unflinching and seemingly not registering a response to anything around him. When he fixes his camera on something, nothing is allowed to break that concentration. He'll stare it out until something reveal itself. His camera keeps a respectful, or maybe wary, distance. Close-ups are rare.
This is a film whose best scene is someone taking a quick nap. Don’t scoff, it is genuinely mesmerizing, probably one of the year’s most striking and memorable scenes. The film teeters between tedium and static transcendence and each viewer will have their own judgment as to where that balance lies. During the first hour and a half, it seems like the change of location has thrown Weerasethakul, causing him to fall back on standard arthouse wankery. Memoria seems colder and more formal than his Thai films, but in its last third, the film takes off, becoming something rather unique and glorious.
Extras
Collector's Edition Booklet - A collection of interviews and articles, including notes from British writer & screenwriter Tony Rayns, plus cast & crew biographies, presented in a specially printed limited run booklet, which also contains additional behind the scenes photos and film stills from the production.
Q&A with Simon Field - Tilda Swinton talks with Simon Field at the ICA as they discuss Memoria, from the film's inception, how she became involved, filming in Colombia, and how audiences have received the film worldwide (30m).
Q&A with Peter Bradshaw - British writer and chief film critic at The Guardian talks with Tilda Swinton and director Apichatpong Weerasethakul in a fascinating insight into the making of Memoria (27m).
Roundtable Discussion - A engaging discussion between Simon Field, Tilda Swinton, director Apichatpong Weerasethakul, producer Diana Bustamante, editor Lee Chatametikool, and sound designer Akritchalerm Kalayanamitr as they each offer their own specialist insights into the making of Memoria.
Behind the Scenes - Get a glimpse of what happens behind the scenes in three specially selected sequences from the on-location shoot of Memoria in Colombia.
Photo gallery - A special selection of stills going behind the scenes of Memoria.
Directed by Apichatpong Weerasethakul
Starring Tilda Swinton, Jeanne Balibar, Elkin Diaz, Juan Pablo Urrigo and Daniel Gimenez Cacho. Partly subtitled. 137 mins.
Sometimes I might get to the end of a film and be left with a feeling that I’ve missed it; that there was something there but it slipped past me. Probably, that’s because I wasn’t bright enough to get it or got off on the wrong foot with it or wasn’t quite paying attention. I think this was the case with Memoria, though I did have a bit of an excuse. For its theatrical release, the distributors sent me a top-secret, highly confidential, screening link which had my name watermarked across the middle of the screen in big white letters, just so I couldn’t tap into that lucrative black market for Apichatpong Weerasethakul bootlegs and didn’t forget my own name while watching the film. (Always an issue.) I’m not necessarily the biggest Tilda fan but I think she deserves better than to have her face obscured by the big white H of Michael.
With Memoria, the sense of missing out is particularly acute because the film moves onto a higher plane in its final third, not long after I’d written it off as a dry attempt to copy the work of Mexican auteur Carlos Reygardos. So its Blu-ray release seemed like the perfect opportunity to give it another go, and do it properly this time.
Or maybe not; in the extras, Tilda and Apichatpong are both very insistent that this is a film that must, absolutely must, be seen in a cinema. (Initially the American release was going to be city by city, one screen at a time. That got abandoned, as did the pledge not to put it out on disc.) So, I’m still grasping towards a true experience of this and what follows is a rejigging of the initial review.
In the Champions League of world cinema, every part of the world has its one designated auteur (apart from a few more lucrative markets such as France, Italy, Japan and Korea which may have three or four entrants) who get to battle it out every season at Cannes and the like. At these pageants, the judges mark them according to solemnity, slowness and obscurity. Representing Thailand and surrounding South East Asian territories is Apichatpong Weerasethakul. In slow and inscrutable films like Syndromes and A Century, Cemetery of Splendour and Cannes winner Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall Past Lives he has marked himself out as a world cinema heavyweight with an incredibly light touch.
After a decade or so there comes the necessity to reach out from the subtitled world and make your first English language film. Weerasethakul has blurred the lines somewhat by turning up in Colombia and making their official submission for the Oscars while having around half the dialogue in English. As the big name conduit to wider recognition, he’s secured the services of Tilda Swinton.
In the opening scene, she is woken by a loud primal noise. She starts to hear it repeatedly and becomes obsessed with finding out what it is. She describes it as a kind of sonic boom, though to me it could be the sound of a squash ball echoing around a court.
Swinton, who is listed as a producer on this, is clearly taking the responsibility very seriously: she isn’t doing fancy dress for this film. She does have an extraordinary capacity to be an incredibly forceful screen presence while remaining a blank canvass. Here, she looks washed out and pale, as if she might disappear into the various concrete expanses that make up downtown Bogota. (Her red hair often links her with Low-era Bowie but here she has a passing resemblance to Suede frontman Brett Anderson.) She moves through the film like a minor royal on an overseas tour who's shaken off her entourage; she is respectfully interested in what all the locals are upto but always a little adrift.
Narratively the film is stubbornly obtuse. We spend the whole time with the Swinton character, Jessica, but learn next to nothing about her. She claims to do something with flowers and does definitely have a sister (Balibar) but beyond that nothing is fixed.
Weerasethakul's aesthetics are something akin to a grenadier on Horse Guards Parade: inscrutable, unflinching and seemingly not registering a response to anything around him. When he fixes his camera on something, nothing is allowed to break that concentration. He'll stare it out until something reveal itself. His camera keeps a respectful, or maybe wary, distance. Close-ups are rare.
This is a film whose best scene is someone taking a quick nap. Don’t scoff, it is genuinely mesmerizing, probably one of the year’s most striking and memorable scenes. The film teeters between tedium and static transcendence and each viewer will have their own judgment as to where that balance lies. During the first hour and a half, it seems like the change of location has thrown Weerasethakul, causing him to fall back on standard arthouse wankery. Memoria seems colder and more formal than his Thai films, but in its last third, the film takes off, becoming something rather unique and glorious.
Extras
Collector's Edition Booklet - A collection of interviews and articles, including notes from British writer & screenwriter Tony Rayns, plus cast & crew biographies, presented in a specially printed limited run booklet, which also contains additional behind the scenes photos and film stills from the production.
Q&A with Simon Field - Tilda Swinton talks with Simon Field at the ICA as they discuss Memoria, from the film's inception, how she became involved, filming in Colombia, and how audiences have received the film worldwide (30m).
Q&A with Peter Bradshaw - British writer and chief film critic at The Guardian talks with Tilda Swinton and director Apichatpong Weerasethakul in a fascinating insight into the making of Memoria (27m).
Roundtable Discussion - A engaging discussion between Simon Field, Tilda Swinton, director Apichatpong Weerasethakul, producer Diana Bustamante, editor Lee Chatametikool, and sound designer Akritchalerm Kalayanamitr as they each offer their own specialist insights into the making of Memoria.
Behind the Scenes - Get a glimpse of what happens behind the scenes in three specially selected sequences from the on-location shoot of Memoria in Colombia.
Photo gallery - A special selection of stills going behind the scenes of Memoria.
