By James Bowman on 4.4.07 @ 12:02AM
All you'll likely remember of this "psychological thriller" is that two psychos aren't better than one.
Memory belongs to what we might call the shake and bake
school of movie making. That is, you take the ingredients of a
successful movie of a certain kind -- or even, as in this case, of
more than one kind -- put them together in a bag and shake them up.
The director, Bennett Davlin, is also the co-producer and is
adapting his own novel (with the help of Anthony Badalucco). As the
creative control is so closely-held, we must suppose that the
random assortment of themes, images and plot fragments he has put
into the bag are his own idea and not something foisted on him by a
studio but something he has chosen himself just to have fun with.
He obviously doesn't feel any need to connect anything plausibly
with anything else. Here, as nearly as I can make it out, is his
recipe.
First, take a mysterious corpse marked with symbols of some
ancient people or religion and a bag of stuff containing clues as
to the corpse's life and how he got to be a corpse.
Add to that the hero, a Harvard-trained doctor named Taylor
Briggs (Billy Zane) who, only ten years out of med school, has his
own research institute dedicated to the causes and potential cures
of Alzheimer's disease -- from which, by the way, his mother is a
sufferer.
Now add an ethnic (Asian fusion?) sidekick, Dr. Deepra Chang
(Terry Chen), to serve as the voice of science and skepticism when
the hero starts developing his wild and unsubstantiated theories --
which, of course, will all turn out to be true.
Set the plot in motion by having the hero prick his finger
through his rubber gloves on something in the corpse's bag of
stuff. Soon after, he starts to have powerful hallucinations.
In the first instance, the hallucinations will appear to be
caused by a mysterious substance with which the corpse's stuff is
dusted. We'll call this magic powder "magic powder." It defies
scientific analysis.
Science must also be baffled by the corpse's brain scan, which
is "something we have never seen before" -- a kind of cancer that
seems to target only the memory centers.
With no scientific explanation for his hallucinations, the hero
can then pursue his investigations into what might be causing them
by looking into ancient religious lore. He discovers the corpse's
name and a master's thesis, secreted in the bag of stuff, into the
same religious lore.
The hero becomes convinced of something that everyone else
thinks of as a psychotic delusion -- namely, that he is seeing in
his hallucinations the experiences of his ancestors through their
eyes -- again, he is right and medical science is wrong.
So far, so predictably made of psycho-thriller stuff. But at
this point, the film-makers must have decided that the ingredients
had to be spiced up by the addition of that other psycho-movie
staple and sure-fire commercial property, a serial killer -- a man
who, wearing a mask and a black Burberry raincoat, features in all
the hero's hallucinations. The ancient religious lore and the
hero's hunches suggest that this mysterious figure is his own
father, whom he never knew. Being a psycho, the serial killer can
indulge the obscure psycho-sexual hangups that drive him to kidnap
little girls without the authors' having to explain anything more
about them than that he suffers from them.
At first, moreover, his predations are dated (with the help of a
hallucinated newspaper) to 1971 -- just before the hero's birth.
But then similar crimes are shown to have been committed down to
the present day. So the detective story becomes a search not just
for the hero's origins or the identity of his dead father but for
some living bad guy. Accordingly, the film introduces some new
characters, all of them in loving relationships with the hero, as
potential villains. These include two old friends of the hero's
mother, the avuncular Dr. Max Lichtenstein (Dennis Hopper) and the
motherly Carol Hargrave (Ann-Margret), together with the hero's
love interest, the beautiful artist Stephanie Jacobs (Tricia
Helfer), to whom he is first attracted because she has painted --
coincidentally? -- a figure who looks remarkably like the masked
man in the Burberry raincoat. The bad guy is naturally the least
likely of these.
This plethora of story fragments means that the hero's detective
work has to be hurried along, rather. Of course, it helps that the
clues he needs are always surprisingly easy to find. Indeed, when
he goes into a strange place to look for evidence, he usually finds
it in the first place he looks, or even posted on the wall so he
doesn't have to look at all. In the end there is a kind of pretend
denouement in which the villain is unmasked and the secret of the
hero's parentage (sort of) revealed, but in fact everything is left
up in the air. None of these random elements really has anything to
do with any other, except by virtue of having been shaken up in the
same bag. And if anyone can figure out a motive that makes any
sense, either for the original killer-kidnapper in the Burberry
raincoat or his heir, or what any of this has to do with memory
except in the most superficial sense, please let me know.
topics:
Religion