We were nearly the only people in the stalls at the Rio in Dalston for the afternoon performance of Memoria, an immensely long and beautifully meandering and ultimately totally confusing, but mesmerising film by Apichatpong Weerasethakul, which is held together by the authority and power of Tilda Swinton, who is called Jessica in the film, but one can think of only as herself. I haven’t the foggiest what it was ultimately all about, but it is spectacularly beautiful, even when the setting is inside a hospital or the back streets of Bogotá, ending with a long rambling sequence in which she meets a man who allows her to explore his subconscious, and maybe hers as well, but this is to suggest that the narrative is in any way resolved. It’s not. Maybe that’s what makes it hypnotic.


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