Thrillers are supposed to thrill.  That is not the case with Rowan Joffe’s new movie Before I Go to Sleep, which is based on a book by S. J. Watson.  The plot blends elements of Memento and 50 First Dates, attempting to create a tone of confusion throughout that only becomes clear during the final act.  The problem is that the movie (I have not read the book, which is acclaimed) does not gradually build up suspense; it simply tells its story very deliberately until, at the climax, it suddenly slams the audience with jarring violence while the perpetrator explains things to the victim (for the audience’s benefit, of course).

A woman (Nicole Kidman) awakens every day with no memory of the past twenty years.  Her husband (Colin Firth) patiently explains her situation before he goes off to work every morning and she fills her days learning about her life with him.  Only — things are not what they seem.  When she begins seeing a doctor (Mark Strong), she begins to unravel her own past and is shocked by what she learns.

Memento proved that a good, maybe even a great, movie could be made regarding memory loss and a subsequent journey of discovery.  50 First Dates proved that even a comedy based on the memory loss theme could be powerful and affecting.  Memory is something we all share — popular movies function as a collective societal memory — and the loss of memory is something I think most of us fear as we age, so there is a built-in interest in the subject.  But Joffe’s film fails to capitalize on this interest.

The first half, as Christine (Kidman) goes through her daily routine, struggling to cope with a life she has lost, is not bad.  Detail and deliberateness help her comprehend and the audience follow.  But then the pace should increase and the tension should mount as the duplicity surrounding her becomes clear.  Instead, the film remains purposefully deliberate and ever more confusing.  Foreshadowing moments are either missed or avoided and another character is introduced (Anne-Marie Duff) who clouds everything further.  And then comes the big reveal, and jarring, really ugly violence.

I had an issue with the violence because of the character who delivers it.  I don’t think it is reasonable for the perpetrator to act this way — or, conversely, that the perpetrator hasn’t acted this way for most of Christine’s condition.  The people in this story just don’t seem to act like real people would, including the denouement in the hospital.  Joffe cannot escape an air of artificiality and detachment that pushes the audience away from the film instead of drawing us in.  What is left is a neat idea with some decent acting but which fails to excite.  ☆ ☆.  6 November 2014.