Marjorie Prime

If you like great theatre, which is more about great dramatic performances than about special effects and soundtracks, you'll have to appreciate this film, as it features what may be the greatest dramatic performances by Geena Davis and Tim Robbins to date, and brilliant work by Lois Smith and Jon Hamm that does not deserve to go unnoticed.

The very original writing delves into the human experience, into aging, and into the role technology will likely increasingly play in the human experience.

I have a feeling that this is one of those films that will go under-noticed and under-appreciated, but will some day receive a lot of attention for it's prophetic technological implications.

For anyone who has ever suffered a profound loss, this film may have special meaning, beyond the introspective insight that it's likely to inspire in any human being. The story is at times funny, curious, and also sad, without relying on cheap underinvested plot devices or well-timed musical themes to trigger emotional responses.

This film tells the story of a family who uses a technology to bring back their deceased relatives using an interactive holographic technology.

The first ten minutes of "Marjorie Prime" is interesting, especially when the nature of the man is revealed. However, the remainder of the film is just boring talks. They talk for a long time at length, and nothing comes out of the conversations. Nothing happens in the film, except an increasing number of holographic images. I don't get the point of the story.

This wonderful, slow and gentle film offers much more than mere words can say - it breathes and comes to life in the spaces between. Nothing happens and yet I couldn't take my eyes off the screen. An atmospheric, deeply felt reflection on memory, identity, ageing and loss - and a beautifully understated glimpse into what the future may hold.

Throughout the film a sense of longing and the difficulty of letting go. But perhaps also a film about healing.

Great performances all round (especially Lois Smith), seemingly simple and effortless but richly rewarding visuals and a perfect soundtrack.

Definitely not for the impatient or those seeking excitement. I came away from it breathing slower and deeper. A real gem.

The sci-fi context is irrelevant in this film. It's just an excuse to get people to talk, and see how they each process grief. How everyone deal with their own sadness and sorrow, and how they confront or do not confront them.

There is no plot, or big reveal, or secret that we uncover at the end. This is purely about human sentiment. It's as real as it gets. Simple, and painful.

I'm not sure if I was bored or fascinated during my viewing. The movie, if we pay attention to it and not to our phone, can strike a chord. I'd guess especially if you ever had to deal with life shattering grief at some point in your life.

"The future will be here soon enough, you might as well be friendly with it." Marjorie (Lois Smith)

Of my many blessings, memory is not the precise gift of most of my friends. I do excel at giving my impressions rather than facts, a talent itself not always impressive. The slow-moving but serious sci-fi drama, Marjorie Prime, treats a time in the near future when holograms can be created to simulate the presence of loved ones who have died.

As in Spike Jonze's Her, technology is friend and foe at the same time. Such a hologram re-creation is fraught with problems, not the least of which is supplying the creation with accurate memories. Those are as imperfect as William James predicted in his repetitive-copying description, where memories leave accuracy behind with each re-recollection.

This film, an adaptation of Jordan Harrison's Pulitzer nominee, starring Lois Smith in the titular role of an 85 year old calling forth her former husband as a middle-aged man, gently makes that point with the hologram, Walter (Jon Hamm). It asks for information or clarification, moments that break the intimacy spell to remind the living that their loving creations are just that: "I'll remember that now," says stoic, affectless Walter.

Director/writer Michael Almereyda takes the Walter hologram into a static interpretation that belies the humanity and emphasizes the robotic nature of the creation. Emotion is missing, that ineffable element of loving so more important than the physical. In that regard the film succeeds in showing the second-rate nature of remembering facts when juxtaposed with emotion. As an imperfect memorist, I feel much better.

The placid sea-side setting, shot in muted color on Long Island, with the water as emblem of the fluid nature of memory, is effective for relaying the elusive nature of that faculty: "The stream of thought flows on; but most of its segments fall into the bottomless abyss of oblivion. Of some, no memory survives the instant of their passage. Of others, it is confined to a few moments, hours or days. Others, again, leave vestiges which are indestructible, and by means of which they may be recalled as long as life endures." William James

Although Marjorie interacts with more than one hologram (certainly most lives have layers of past loved ones to be recalled if needed), the film accomplishes making us aware of the complex business of remembering, its imperfection, and its reflection of our own uncertain place in the memory of humanity.