Nick Bannister (Hugh Jackman) and Emily ‘Watts’ Sanders (Thandiwe Newton) run a business that allow their clients to relive specific memories of their past.  Watts is the engineer behind the machine while Nick walks them through their psychological journey.  One day, Mae (Rebecca Ferguson) comes in looking to use the machine to locate her lost keys.  Immediately enamored by her, Nick agrees to help and the two enter into a relationship until one day Mae goes missing.  As Nick discovers clues hidden in the memories of people she interacted with, he begins down the dark path which led to her disappearance. 

There is a lot of narrative ambition in Reminiscence from the first-time feature writer/director Lisa Joy.  With roots in television, most notably Westworld for HBO, it is not surprising that the dual narrative structure of Reminiscence is expertly employed.   With the inclusion of the Reminiscence machine, the film feels remarkably similar to Christopher Nolan’s Inception (2010) and then dressed up in all the typical trappings of a noir.  These two influences play very well together on a macro level – Inception having some lite noir elements itself – but as you drill down into the narrative, its flaws become more apparent. 

The production design is an admirable effort, and it creates a very distinct feel for the film, but it does not do well when showing the disparity between the haves and the have nots.  Typically, this would not be an issue, but the concept of wealth does play into the motives of the characters, yet it is not accurately reflected in the sets.  The luxurious earth-toned halls that call back to the elegant French Art Deco style are all lit with a warm but dull light which often leaves the frame as muddy as the water that runs through the streets.  This choice of set decoration makes sense, though, as it transports us back to a time long past, but its classic design still holds as a symbol of wealth in our modern minds. 

Not only does the furniture lean into the film’s noir influences, so does the base for Mae as the film’s femme fatale.  We quickly learn she makes a meager living as a lounge singer in elegantly dressed 1930’s style smoke lounges.  She goes so far to say that she is dressed in a thrifted outfit, but she always manages to be dressed in an equally impeccable style that it makes the line between rich and poor even harder to define in this dystopian ecosystem. 

To the designer’s credit they have created a definite look to the film, and the exteriors work far better than the interiors in what the film is trying to do.  Due to global warming, Miami has flooded and looks like a grim, dirty, neon-lit shell of itself with images of Venice overlayed.  The designers put a lot of work into showing how residents had to adapt to these changes, and it goes deeper than just having boats serve as the main form of local travel.  It is really interesting to see the infrastructure in this “after the fall” setting as the movie will eventually find Nick traveling by monorail across the flooded landscape as the silhouettes of wind turbines lazily spin in the distance.  It is a play on a scene we are all too familiar with, though to fit the world of the film it substitutes a locomotive and oil pumpjacks for their more futuristic counterparts.  

Nick is on his way to see drug kingpin, Saint Joe (Daniel Wu).  To this point, the dialogue was always a little clunky, but it was forgivable as we were still learning the rules of the world.  Once we are in with Saint Joe and his goons, however, the dialogue problem really comes to the forefront.  Everyone’s lines are overwritten in a way that overplays their villainy and is wrought with poetic language that it is clear the actors are struggling to speak with any natural cadence.  This writing style will go on for the duration of the script and it negatively impacts the performance quality of an otherwise very solid cast. 

With any luck, Joy will continue her career in features but ideally find a writing partner to assist with the dialogue.  Her feeling for narrative structure is clear and appreciated.  She takes the overdone reference to Orpheus and Eurydice and uses it as a unique framing device that carries throughout the multiple plot lines of Reminiscence and makes for a nice bit of reflection come the film’s coda.  Joy is operating within her wheelhouse in these twisty sorts of narratives, and while Reminiscence at times is burdened by the confines of the genre, Joy’s individual talent still shines through.   

Ironically enough, this type of storytelling is posterized by two Warner Bros. regulars: the previously mentioned Nolan and Dennis Villeneuve.  Given their current turbulent relationship with the studio, this could be the opportunity to inject a fresh female voice into this male dominated genre and help to redefine some of these conventions that have been around for about as long as cinema has existed.    

Reminiscence has a lot of artistic merit and promise behind it, but the overall film ends up being lesser than the sum of its parts.  The world is very immersive on a purely visual level and there are some very engaging action sequences peppered throughout that help pull us back when the story starts to drag.  Next to the wooden dialogue, the biggest issue with the film would be its bloat.  At 116 minutes, it is just too long and a snappier 90 or 100 minute cut would have really elevated this film to the next level.  It is an interesting enough watch, but much like Nick’s clients, we find ourselves passively witnessing hollow action that never quite reaches the same greatness that we get from the stronger films which have come before it.