Apitchatpong Weerasethakul's newest Cannes Jury Prize-winning film was a lot like his previous films, slow and contemplative, but also deep and exploratory. However, it was also one of his more accessible films. Perhaps because of the language? A mix of English and Spanish, Apitchatpong's first non-Thai film. Or perhaps it was because of the enigmatic yet fully magnetic Tilda Swinton.
Memoria was a film that mixed magical realism with mysticism and existentialism. It was a languidly paced and directed film that necessitated full attention to the long - sometimes mostly silent - takes to absorb the details that may - or may not - play a role in the ultimate appreciation of the film's purpose.
This film deserved a re-watch just to better understand what exactly was happening.
The central plot itself was skeletal. The story that Apitchatpong and Swinton were telling was not dependent on traditional narrative and dramatic arcs and devices. It was about mood and atmosphere and feelings. There were definitely a lot of feelings.
Scenes were long and cameras were mostly stationary which allowed Apitchatpong to fully enveloped his audience into the moment on screen. Also, the sound design and mixing were crucial in this film as we were fully immersed into the delicately crafted atmosphere of the scene. Sound was so important that we had a full 15 to 20 minutes long sequence all set in a sound lab with a sound engineer recreating the mysterious sound that opened the film.
That above-sequence may sound - lol - boring and technical on paper, but kudos to Swinton and Apitchatpong for truly making it engaging and fascinating.
Swinton's performance was also crucial to the film. She, as usual, was magnetic and giving a full-bodied, lived-in performance that seemed so natural and yet so nuanced. Our eyes are always on her. The way she moved, how her shoulders sagged or head cocked, or how she spoke or laughed or paused. She carried the film in a way that would have been difficult for anybody else.
By the end of the film, you would - and hopefully should - have left the theatre with a sense of awe and maybe even a slight WTF just happened. And that is the beauty of cinema. To challenge, to question, to linger and to admire.