Marjorie Prime is adapted from a play. It involves a lot of talking and is never really opened out.It is a film that involves a lot of words which reveals its various strands. The characters in front of us are imperfect holographic recreations of people who have died.Set in the future, Marjorie (Lois Smith) is suffering from Alzheimer's. She listens to stories told to her by a holographic younger version of her late husband Walter (Jon Hamm) in order for her to remember and keep her memories going.Yet Walter is not the only hologram in the family as their daughter Tess (Geena Davis) talks to Marjorie about the past and some event that affected the family. Tess's husband Jon (Tim Robbins) also needs to recall his relationship with Tess and how he first proposed to her.The film should had been an interesting look at our memories and how we perceive our loved ones with the regrets of what was left unsaid. It is a shame the film told its story in such a lifeless way.

You might not want to watch "Marjorie Prime" if you're either sleepy or grumpy. It's a slow, cerebral, and very melancholy film. But it's also thought provoking and satisfying in the way that well told stories about death and loss can be.Set in a near future, it tells the story of three family members -- a mother, her daughter, and the daughter's husband -- who deal with the grief of losing their loved ones by communing with virtual reality recreations of them. It's based on a play, and it shows; the film isn't especially cinematic, and it might test the patience of viewers who want more from a movie than a succession of lengthy mostly two-character dialogues. But it's superbly acted, and it raises questions about the nature of memory that are fun to ponder. The film suggests that our memories already manufacture virtual realities around the events we've already lived through, and that the idea of some day being able to have conversations with versions of those we've loved won't be that different from sifting through the memories of them that we have available to us now.Lois Smith gives an award worthy performance as the matriarch who kicks off the film and who we see in the first scene chatting with her dead husband, played by Jon Hamm. Geena Davis plays her daughter, and Tim Robbins her son-in-law. All four actors are superb. A final scene, that finds the three virtual reality creations free from their owners and having a conversation between themselves, is especially haunting.Grade: A-

Its a good concept that delivers an interesting movie about love, memories, regret and secrets. The film lives from its wonderful cast who are all very well picked and delivered good performance, however it suffers from its rather weak direction by Michael Amereyda who tried to make it too artsey for its own sake. Lois Smith delivers a great and charming performance. And I am glad she got some material to work with actually instead of just second hand supporting roles as usual. She really got talent and gave her role a lot of good and interesting facettes. Another great performance came from Geena Davis. One of her best recent performances. Davis really understood her role, which surely wasn't easy and the audience was easy to care for it, at least I did. Tim Robbins was also fine and did have some good and difficult moments. Also not a bad performance by Jon Hamm who might have had the most difficult role but mastered it well enough, even if he appeared a bit wooden, which was intentionally. But what was it with that annoying score/soundtrack? That really played the movie down which is a shame. It had a lot of potential but they tickled the wrong ankles at times. Too bad. Still worth to see for the performances.

"The future will be here soon enough, you might as well be friendly with it." Marjorie (Lois Smith) Of my many blessings, memory is not the precise gift of most of my friends. I do excel at giving my impressions rather than facts, a talent itself not always impressive. The slow-moving but serious sci-fi drama, Marjorie Prime, treats a time in the near future when holograms can be created to simulate the presence of loved ones who have died.As in Spike Jonze's Her, technology is friend and foe at the same time. Such a hologram re-creation is fraught with problems, not the least of which is supplying the creation with accurate memories. Those are as imperfect as William James predicted in his repetitive-copying description, where memories leave accuracy behind with each re-recollection.This film, an adaptation of Jordan Harrison's Pulitzer nominee, starring Lois Smith in the titular role of an 85 year old calling forth her former husband as a middle-aged man, gently makes that point with the hologram, Walter (Jon Hamm). It asks for information or clarification, moments that break the intimacy spell to remind the living that their loving creations are just that: "I'll remember that now," says stoic, affectless Walter.Director/writer Michael Almereyda takes the Walter hologram into a static interpretation that belies the humanity and emphasizes the robotic nature of the creation. Emotion is missing, that ineffable element of loving so more important than the physical. In that regard the film succeeds in showing the second-rate nature of remembering facts when juxtaposed with emotion. As an imperfect memorist, I feel much better.The placid sea-side setting, shot in muted color on Long Island, with the water as emblem of the fluid nature of memory, is effective for relaying the elusive nature of that faculty: "The stream of thought flows on; but most of its segments fall into the bottomless abyss of oblivion. Of some, no memory survives the instant of their passage. Of others, it is confined to a few moments, hours or days. Others, again, leave vestiges which are indestructible, and by means of which they may be recalled as long as life endures." William James Although Marjorie interacts with more than one hologram (certainly most lives have layers of past loved ones to be recalled if needed), the film accomplishes making us aware of the complex business of remembering, its imperfection, and its reflection of our own uncertain place in the memory of humanity.