It may be slightly inappropriate to start a discussion on a film by saying so, but there is a reason why Michel Franco is one of the most controversial contemporary filmmakers. It isn’t because the subject matter of his films is provocative or defiant of standards, nor is his filmmaking particularly challenging in a way that sets the viewer on edge. Instead, he’s a director who relies too heavily on a few elements, none of which are particularly pleasant, and instead function as the foundation of some of the most unintentionally uncomfortable, dull productions in recent years. He’s not a director who inspires much passion, and the fact that he not only keeps receiving the funding to make these listless cinematic exercises, but he has attracted some notable names to appear in his films, despite his not being a particularly generous director when it comes to giving his actors anything of value. The most recent ordeal that he has produced is Memory, in which we are introduced to Sylvia, a social worker who struggles to relieve herself of the trauma she has carried around for decades, which becomes quite challenging when she meets Saul, a mysterious man who follows her home after a high school reunion – and initially believing to be one of the men who sexually abused her as a child, she soon discovers that he is actually someone else, a man living with dementia, and as a result they strike a friendship that gives both of these broken people a sense of comfort and belonging. A solid set of ideas informs this film, and if there is any merit to what is being done throughout Memory, it would be that it has a strong premise at the start, with every shortcoming emerging once the foundation has been set, and the director has to actually flesh out the concepts that informed the production in the first place. Neither an upgrade on his most recent offerings, nor a particularly notable failure in comparison to some of his more divisive films, Memory is a passionless film that inspires nothing but apathy in the viewer, and it wouldn’t be surprising to find out that many share the same sentiment of Franco being a director who either needs to choose better stories, or shift gears in terms of style and tone, both of which are severely lacking in the majority of his films.

Based on the title, it is quite obvious what Memory is focused on (Franco very rarely leaves any room for guessing when it comes to making it clear what his films are about), which is perhaps one of the most obvious examples of his storytelling being very much on-the-nose. A good social drama should construct itself so its message is discovered rather than announced, but it seems like everyone involved in this film held the opposite belief. From the very first moments, the film bombards us with the concept of reflection, with the main character being a woman who carries her trauma very closely to her heart, struggling to overcome some events from her past, which ultimately manifests in her non-existent relationship with her family, except her daughter, who is also slowly stepping away from her mother due to her draconian parenting style and the clear fact that she is not psychologically able to have a relationship with anyone. This obviously becomes even more notable with the introduction of the character of Saul, who suffers from dementia, which throws her life into disarray. The audacity it took to not only make a film about the growing romance between a woman who cannot forget her past and a man who quite literally is unable to remember his, and calling it Memory, is almost admirable and would warrant praise for the sheer gall, if it didn’t also seem to be slightly insulting to the audience, who Franco seems to think need to be handed every plot detail and have it explained to them, as if we are unable to come to these very simple conclusions all on our own. Memory is not the first film to be focused on the uncomfortable nature of the past and the challenges that come with revisiting it, but it certainly is one of the few that doesn’t actually manage to say anything of consequence, instead relying on the most obvious ideas and not adding anything valuable to a concept that has been explored with more elegance and intelligence countless times in the past.

This premise alone is not entirely bad, and it actually has some promise – the problem is that Franco is a director who always veers towards the most bleak side of humanity, his films being colourless affairs in terms of both tone and visual scope, which immediately impacts a story like the one at the heart of Memory, which could have been moving had it been made by someone who possesses an iota of compassion for his subjects, rather than just using them as pawns in his attempts to create observational dramas that focus on those who exist on the margins, whether socially or psychologically. The problem with Franco is that he’s a director whose intentions are always good; he just fumbles in terms of execution, which primarily manifests in his inability to find genuine human emotions. Nearly every character in Memory is a cypher, someone who we observe from a distance, and considering the nature of the story, it is clear that this is not the best approach. This is a severe, overly dour affair in which every emotion is not only garish but also wildly ill-conceived in more ways than one. It is a heavy-handed film without any nuance, and we find that it frequently fails to say anything interesting, and instead defaults to the most obvious ideas, which may seem like it is applying the “less is more” style of storytelling, but in this case fails to do anything even remotely valuable, outside of layering on every negative emotion imaginable, in the hopes of inciting some kind of existential crisis in the audience, when in reality all we experience is the complete and utter ambivalence of seeing two deeply mediocre individuals fall in love, which is neither romantic nor inspiring, and instead just proves to be relentlessly dull. The fact that the cornerstone scene in this film is one in which the protagonist confronts her family about the sexual abuse she experienced as a child should make it very clear that Franco is not someone who ever intended to make films that are in any way comfortable or interesting, but instead rely on emotional manipulation, since there is never any feeling of compassion or humanity in his films, Memory just being another overly bland film that contributes very little to a very important conversation.

Based on the premise, you would imagine that Memory would at least be a good showcase for its actors, and for the most part, you can understand what drew both Jessica Chastain and Peter Sarsgaard to sign onto this film. However, either they misunderstood the approach, or Franco failed them when it came time to actually commit this story to film, but neither of them delivered performances that felt anywhere close to being particularly strong work. Chastain in particular is most worrying – she has proven herself remarkably capable at intense, character-driven drama on countless occasions, and this is not the first time she has played a woman struggling to deal with her past. Yet, despite her best efforts, she cannot rise above a paltry script that gives her literally nothing of value, outside of playing a woman who allows her trauma to turn her into a misanthropic, overly-protective woman who fails to meet even the most fundamental criteria of social behaviour. Sarsgaard fares slightly better, which is only because he has the more sympathetic role – but unfortunately, he faces the obstacle of being someone who tries their best to infuse this character with depth, but who fails to rise above the fact that the director constantly seems to be portraying the character as nothing more than a mentally-ill man whose erratic behaviour is used as a punchline (how Franco manages to make a humourless mockery of mental health is an achievement in itself), and despite all the work he does, Sarsgaard falls victim to the same limited approach that envelopes the entire film. The chemistry between the two leads is non-existent, and the overall experience is not particularly pleasant. Whether or not Franco intended to portray this film as a complex character study of an unorthodox romance, it ultimately proves to be a deeply alienating experience that doesn’t even come close to hitting the right notes.

Memory is a film that is about as ambiguous and artistically anonymous as its title, and it is clear that very little work went into the construction of this film. This is clear proof of a filmmaker having an interesting idea and deciding to set it into motion long before even attempting to do the work required to make it more than just a limited, one-dimensional film without any nuance or elegance. This doesn’t mean that Franco is necessarily a poor filmmaker, and he does possess some skill in terms of visual composition, as well as having good ideas for stories (with the downfall coming when he has to actually expand on them, something that has been a weakness throughout his career – he’s not a great storyteller), and based on his rapid output, it seems to only be a matter of time before he produces something that actually proves to be effective – and hopefully it will be a film that has a stronger grasp on its emotional inventory. Even taken for what it is, there are elements in Memory that simply cannot be justified – the lacklustre storytelling, the poor dialogue that is riddled with cliches, the over-the-top performances that don’t reflect how any genuine human being has ever acted, and the fact that the entire film is just one miserable moment after another, in which there is a complete lack of growth, and the story doesn’t progress or go anywhere – there is nothing inherently negative about a film that takes a slice-of-life approach and attempts to show the daily routine of its characters, but when we have a film supposedly about healing and reflection on the past, to have a complete lack of progress or development is a clear indication of a lack of quality. Overly prosaic and obvious, and entirely dull, Memory is not a good film, and one has to wonder whether this story and its cast could have been better utilized in the hands of a more capable filmmaker, since there was promise embedded in the film, it just never emerged in any substantial or meaningful way, which is ultimately the immense failure of this film.