"Movies should have a beginning, a middle, and an end, but not necessarily in that order."
-Jean-Luc Godard

How ironic that a film about a man with short-term memory loss could be so unforgettable. Memento begins with one of the great opening shots of the movies. There is a close-up of a hand holding a Polaroid photo. The striking image on the photo is the bloody body of some unknown person. However, something strange is happening to the photo: the image is slowly fading away. (This could be a metaphor for Leonard's condition: he sees something, but then his short-term memory loss kicks in and then it fades away.) We suddenly realize that the film is going backwards. The scene continues in this backwards motion, until we actually see the man getting shot. And so, this opening scene represents the microcosm of the famously backward structure of the movie. We see some thing or event (in this case, the photo of the body) and then we see how that came to be. Although the rest of the film is in regular forward motion, the individual scenes are constructed backwards to achieve this stunning and disorienting effect.

Normally, this sort of structure would be a cheap gimmick, but not in this case. As I said before, the main character, Leonard Shelby (Guy Pearce), has short-term memory loss. As Burt (Mark Boone Junior), the hotel clerk, puts it, "That must suck. I mean, it's all backwards. Like, maybe you get an idea about what you want to do next, but you don't remember what you just did." Putting the scenes in backward chronology is the closest and most effective way that can make us feel like we have short-term memory loss just like Leonard (but, of course, we can remember the previous scenes and put them together in our mind). The movie is also constructed forwards and sideways. A second story thread, shown in black and white, intercuts with the color backward scenes until they converge near the end (the sideway structure). These scenes are shown in correct chronological order (the forward structure). Thus, the film is more like a complex puzzle-box than some straightforward mystery.

Memento is unlike any movie-watching experience I've ever had. This is anything but a passive film. It relentlessly manipulates your knowledge, ideas, and expectations. It requires the audience's constant thought and attention, pinning them to their seats. Every single scene needs to be watched or the rest of the movie won't make much sense. The film's uneasily defined mysteries and puzzling structure also requires multiple viewings (around 3-4 times) in order to understand it all. That may seem like too much to just understand one movie, but the film is so well made and intriguing that most people will want to see it again and again. This is one of those rare movies that truly gets better and better the more times you see it. When I first watched it, I merely liked the film but didn't love it because there were a lot of things I was confused by. Upon a second viewing, more things became clear and I really liked it. The third time, I understood just about everything and loved the movie.

However, that's not to say the film was no longer rewarding and entertaining after I figured out everything. I have been writing a lot about this movie's unique structure, but that's not all the film has going for it. When the scenes are viewed in the correct order, the thrill of the film's unusual structure is, obviously, gone. But, it proves that the movie's events are cohesive. Also, the film is still enjoyable and involving. This is because it's so well-written and acted, proving that the movie's effectiveness relies on much more than the atypical chronology. There are also plenty of new things to discover and think about. For instance, I never thought the light blue color seen frequently throughout the film had any special meaning. I assumed it was one of the director's favorite colors or something. However, upon seeing the movie again recently, I noticed that color is the same light blue as Leonard's eyes.

CONTINUED IN PART 2...