Written and directed by Eirini Konstantinidou
Starring Freya Berry, Robin King, Tim Seyfert, Tallulah Sheffield and Jamie Laird
Running time: 1 hour and 18 minutes

by Nikk Nelson

mnemophrenia (ni-mä-frē-nē-ə) noun:
A condition or a state characterized by the coexistence
of real and artificial memories,
which affects the subject's sense of identity

“I choose to live and to grow/Take and give and to move/Learn and love and to cry
Kill and die and to be/Paranoid and to lie/Hate and fear and to do
What it takes to move through/I choose to live and to lie
Kill and give and to die/Learn and love and to do/What it takes to step through
See my shadow changing/Stretching up and over me
Soften this old armor/Hoping I can clear the way by
Stepping through my shadow/Coming out the other side
Step into the shadow/Forty six and two are just ahead of me…” -Tool “Forty Six & 2”

“I mean, what’s gonna happen to the arms industry when we find out we’re all one?
It’s gonna fuck up the economy…the economy that’s FAKE anyway…” -Bill Hicks

Writer/director Eirini Konstantinidou may have turned in the first movie that has ever broken my brain—and I’ve watched Watchmen (2009) on shrooms. It’s hard to say that the film follows a single character because it’s more or less about the singularity—the moment when all human consciousness exists as a waking reality. Or, at least, that’s how I currently understand/can best explain it. Loosely, the film follows Nick, a tech programmer at a company that is rolling out True Cinema—the next wave of technology in virtual reality. Imagine being John Wick, kind of a thing. The immediate parallel to draw is to Kathryn Bigelow’s lost masterpiece Strange Days (1995). Mnemophrenia (2019) is a much more peaceful vision of that world, but no less politically charged. 

Nick “suffers” from (the titular) mnemophrenia, a neo-condition that essentially posits that, at a certain point of virtual reality technology, users will be unable to distinguish real memories from artificial ones. But here’s the mindfuck of all mindfucks—all memories are artificial. The film spans three generations of a family but in Nick’s “time” mnemophrenia is being treated as a mental illness, a psychosis, and the people “suffering” from it are more or less accused by the larger culture of not living in reality. Nick pushes back against this entire idea. Mnemophrenia, he feels, is the first step in the next larger step of human evolution. And herein lies the real power and beauty of the film. I think I may finally understand the phrase “greater than the sum of its parts” after watching it. Not to say that any of these elements are at all incompetent but it’s not written, shot, acted or directed in a way that’s truly unique or remarkable. However, a lot of low-budget, independent films, especially ones I’ve seen lately, are, for example, shot really well but come nowhere near having the kind of message that Mnemophrenia delivers. 

In 2020, we seem to be having a very difficult, global conversation within and surrounding social media. An attitude I regularly encounter is ‘we’re more connected than ever before and more divided than we’ve ever been’. And, as a helpless, overactive empath who wades into comments sections like a moth to a flame, I can’t help but feel, pun intended, that a lack of empathy is driving many of our cultural problems. The current technological limitations of social media seem to have one, created a vast semi-anonymous space where that lack of empathy is not only encouraged, but rewarded, and two, generates a profit stream feeding into an insatiable techno-gogue—a neo-war machine, same as the old war machine. When Nick tries to warn his company that True Cinema is causing Mnemophrenia and they shouldn’t roll it out, they make the decision you’d expect a Facebook or Twitter or Instagram to make—there’s too much money to be made to just sit on it. If we don’t take the risk, the next company will. The result, unintended I’m sure, is the salvation of human civilization.

Imagine if your uncle, you know the one I’m talking about, could spend a day in ICE detention behind the eyes of a terrified child. How much could potentially change overnight if we all could? I’m not finding a great deal of hope at this moment in 2020. I see a lot of great films, I love writing reviews, I love Moviejawn, and I love my filmpals—but, deep down, I can feel me distracting myself. I can feel, outside, the world on fire, and I feel absolutely powerless against what seems to be its world-ending endeavor. Mnemophrenia is the first film I can remember seeing, recently, that gave me even a shred of hope. Its overall message, at least to me, is what we are witnessing is the unavoidable pain and violence of birth—an entire world heaving, pushing. And what’s going to be born through our ever charging, again pun intended, technological advancement is a world where empathy is lived, not just felt, and the byproducts of peace and harmony will create an eternity where we simply can’t know any different. 

-I would definitely lead in with Strange Days (1995), if you can find it. I broke down and bought a VHS copy on ebay. Near Dark (1987) popped up on the Criterion Channel recently. I sincerely hope this means Kathryn Bigelow is headed to the criterion collection and we’ll get to see a criterion edition of, ultimately, all of her films, but I’m most looking forward to Strange Days. The relevance of that film to right now is terrifying—but then watch Mnemophrenia and you’ll feel better-

PSS The director’s cut of Zack Snyder’s Watchmen (2009) is fucking incredible. If you don’t like my wave, get off my board. Fuck, I want a criterion edition of Point Break (1991) too.

Available to watch on various on demand platforms now.