Review: Marjorie Prime
Based on Jordan Harrison's Pulitzer Prize-nominated play and starring Lois Smith in the role she originated on the stage in 2014, Marjorie Prime explores the shifting sands of truth, identity and family dynamics in a manner that wouldn't make it out of place as an episode of Black Mirror (indeed the film bears more than a passing resemblance to the episode entitled "Be Right Back" starring Hayley Atwell and Domhnall Gleeson) . Unfortunately, where the acclaimed British anthology series intrigues and provokes, Marjorie Prime never truly engages.
Much if not all of the disconnect derives from its theatrical roots, which director Michael Almereyda never wholly overcomes. Chamber pieces, whether on stage or in film, are always tricky affairs - the claustrophobia has to be carefully calibrated so that it doesn't suffocate either the narrative or the viewing experience - and, whilst there is much to admire in the film, it's so sterile and airless as to be enervating.
"It's always nice to be lied to," 85-year-old widow Marjorie (Smith) remarks to her son-in-law Jon (Tim Robbins) and daughter Tess (Geena Davis). Indeed, the comfort of lies is one reason she responds so well to Walter (Jon Hamm), the artificial intelligence version of her late husband that Jon and a reluctant Tess have acquired for her. Known as a Prime, Walter is essentially a high-grade hologram who relies on the personal information fed to him by family members in order to be as accurate a representation as possible. "I'll remember that now," he notes with each new detail or alteration of facts. Though Tess bristles at Walter Prime's existence and is vexed at her mother's affection for the Prime, Jon is more embracing of the technology and says that companionship is the most important thing for Marjorie.
Yet, as the film unfolds, it becomes ever more obvious that the memories that the primes are ingesting and recalling back to their listeners are not necessarily fully factual. As Tess remarks to Jon, when you remember a memory, it's the memory of the memory that you actually recollect; the original source becomes fuzzier and increasingly unreliable. Though the details of a prime's capabilities are interesting, the film is best when focusing in on how our own remembrances often chain us to the past instead of allowing us to move forward with the present. Whilst Marjorie might seem to be the main example of this theme, the real flagbearer is Tess, who cannot let go of past hurts, perceived of otherwise. She takes offense at her mother's relaxed mindset over a Bible left by the newly hired caretaker Julie (Stephanie Andujar) - after all, didn't her mother always tell her God was a fairy tale? She's so consumed by her belief that her mother didn't love her as much as her dad did but, as Jon points out, Marjorie did love her as much but perhaps it was just more obvious from those on the outside looking in.
Smith is excellent, not surprising considering her familiarity with the role, but Davis is an especial standout as the daughter trying to preserve and salvage what she can not only of her mother but of their fragile relationship. Unfortunately, the story does become redundant after a while and the redundancy neither moves the narrative forward nor make the film's themes any more resonant.
Marjorie Prime
Directed by: Michael Almereyda
Written by: Michael Almereyda; adapted from the play by Jordan Harrison
Starring: Lois Smith, Jon Hamm, Geena Davis, Tim Robbins, Stephanie Andujar
