★★★½☆
Jesse Gi and Grant Singer’s latest film, Memo, is a thrilling drama that explores humanity, ethics, and morality as a team of filmmakers learns about a troubling rumor the night before their film premieres at a prestigious film festival.
Gi and Singer use the theory that less is more in their latest film, crafting the entire story to take place primarily in one setting.
They craft a dramatic thriller that focuses on and utilizes emotional manipulation rather than the life-and-death circumstances that most thrillers tend to incorporate.
Gi and Singer open the film with an interview sequence that is tight, crisp, and not only well shot, but emotionally revealing.
It lays the groundwork for both Abby and James’s characters.
The script showcases Chris’s resentment and endearment for Abby beautifully and naturally, as the interviewer asks standard questions that are generic yet emotionally weighted.
Questions such as the inspiration for the film and where some of the concepts in the script came from.
A question that goes beyond simple credited roles. A generic question that would usually hold little weight reveals the latter, revealing the tension that’s bottled up.
While simple and straightforward, the script is as much a character-driven narrative as it is a story-driven one.
The characters are flawed and complex, yet not quite fully developed. With a strong opening that shows us the path, our trip down the yellow brick road isn’t as eventful or fleshed out as it should be.
The antagonistic problem is generic and one that is horrific, yet unproblematic underneath, leaving a few plot holes that don’t quite smooth themselves out and relying heavily on fear and misconception to work.
James’s character has the least amount of screen time, and yet somehow is the best portrayed and explored. The film keeps his character simple and plays to those attributes. Meanwhile, Chris and Abby’s characters have the most screen time and are in the entire film, yet it feels like the baggie is never fully exposed.
On the surface level, yes, the film explores and offers enough details to explain why things happened the way they did, to an extent. But it doesn’t account for simple problem-solving and basic character characteristics.
The script works well enough to craft an interesting and compelling story that keeps you engaged, even if the essential moments don’t hold up as well afterward.
Joseph Yao’s cinematography is crisp, consistently tight, and emotionally driven. Every frame feels intentional. The decision to shoot the interview with medium shots in the opening captures the scene perfectly.
The tight and precise shots throughout the film offer tension and allow emotions to build as the camerawork creates a rigid aura. As the film goes on, the shots become more compressed for the most part, compressing the characters visually and, therefore, emotionally. Only a few scenes allow the background to become more present, providing breathing room.
Singer and Gi’s vision is clear and well executed. The pacing is balanced and consistent, with a steady tone.
They set out to make a compelling dramatic thriller and use their resources and limitations to their advantage by keeping it simple and letting the story do the legwork.
Utilizing the cinematography and camerawork to build tension, the absence of a score is unnoticeable. Rather than trying to force in background noise, they leave it empty, allowing for a more grounded and real tone.
Jeff Lawless steals the show with his performance as James, hitting every note and creating a character who embodies the role flawlessly. His charismatic charm can be turned on and off instantly, while the real version of himself is never far from the surface.
Memo has some scripting issues, especially with the ending. It forces an ending that is righteous without facing the bigger problem: reality. A reality in which decisions have consequences and righteousness requires sacrifice.
What’s left is a well-crafted dramatic thriller that, while engaging and well paced, slowly loses its luster after the credits roll.
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