At the end of a school reunion, Sylvia is followed on the way home by Saul. Initially alarmed, Sylvia soon after learns that Saul is in fact suffering from an early form of dementia. Over the following weeks, Sylvia and Saul become closer. While she is haunted by painful memories that hinder her development, he is still lucid enough to be aware of his mind which is disintegrating. Hence the improbable friendship that emerges between Sylvia and Saul. The latter are played by Jessica Chastain and Peter Sarsgaard in the aptly named Memory.
Written and directed by Michel Franco (winner of the Un Certain Regard prize at Cannes in 2012 for Después de Lucia), Memory weaves an intriguing, delicate and unpredictable plot. Indeed, we often think we see this or that twist coming, but each time, the filmmaker thwarts expectations. This, by refusing to resort to any clichéd development or hackneyed situation whatsoever.
For example, when, early in the film, Sylvia reveals that she was attacked during her adolescence, perhaps by Saul, we see the emergence of a revenge story similar to others. Well no : Memory goes in a completely different direction (Saul was transferred to their school after the fact).
The film instead paints two portraits of humans who have reached a form of existential point of no return. Sylvia, an alcoholic who has been sober for thirteen years, the age of her daughter (Brooke Timber), whom she raises alone, understands that freedom from the past is not only desirable, but necessary.
The ambiguity between Sylvia and her more financially well-off sister (Merritt Wever) must be cleared up once and for all. As for the toxicity that emanates from their mother (Jessica Harper), the saturation point has been reached.
For his part, Saul, who is a widower, must mourn his own person, since between two flashes of acuity, his identity fades a little more each day. On the family front, he also has his share of trials. In fact, his brother and legal guardian (Josh Charles) does not share his views on what is best for him.
Another aspect that unites Sylvia and Saul is that although they are both surrounded by others, they are no less isolated.
Significant details
Michel Franco does not highlight any of these many similarities, preferring to observe his protagonists as their encounter surreptitiously transforms them both.
Moreover, the discreet power of his staging, seemingly very refined with its abundance of wide shots, lies in its extreme attention to significant details.
Take this chilling confrontation between Sylvia and her mother, who always refused to believe her. Franco opts for a wide shot that looks like a family photo. Everyone is standing, but after sitting down, Sylvia is suddenly dominated by everyone, starting with her mother. Her mother who has her back to us, and who, by moving in front of Sylvia, temporarily hides her from our view: she literally makes her daughter invisible by trying to make her silence (Jessica Harper, cult actress of Suspiriais brief, but striking).
This scene triggers the same kind of emotional release as the mother-daughter confrontation between Anne Hathaway and Debra Winger in Rachel Getting Married (Rachel’s wedding).
Another key passage: that of the photo album, where Saul’s late wife is seen. She was a redhead, like Sylvia. Is that why he followed her that famous evening? Because he thought, confused, that he had recognized his dear deceased? Here again, Franco suggests without explaining anything.
Brio by Jessica Chastain
Winner of the Best Actor Prize in Venice, Peter Sarsgaard, seen notably in Kinsey And The Lost Daughter (The stolen doll), but which finds itself too rarely in the foreground, is excellent. He never overdoes it in a role which, by its nature, could have been susceptible to game effects.
Winner of the Academy Award for Best Actress for The Eyes of Tammy Faye (Tammy Faye’s eyes), Jessica Chastain is for her remarkable share of nuances. The star of The Tree of Life (The tree of life) and of Zero Dark Thirty (Operation before dawn) would try to play false that she would not succeed.
Nevertheless… This is a performance which commands restraint and interiority, and which, like the staging, only reveals its brilliance a posteriori, because it will have become embedded – yes – in our memory.