Now..where was I?

Rating: 9/10 (30 July 2015)

Many critics have expressed the view that the backwards chronological order of the colour sequences of Memento is nothing more than a gimmick, a story-telling device that doesn't align with Leonard's point of view. After all, he certainly doesn't experience events in backwards order, does he? However, this structure is crucial in many ways in Memento presenting its story. The narrative is fundamentally about self deception and betrayal; Leonard sees it from everyone he knows, right down to the inn manager who tries to rent him two rooms and freely admits to it, knowing Leonard won't remember. The structure deliberately denies the audience the same information that Leonard is denied as a result of his condition, and slowly subverts initial expectations and reveals facts as lies, as the motif of memory is constantly discussed. Leonard doesn't trust himself or his memory - he works on instincts and conditioning, and most of all, the little notes and tattoos he carries. The audience, much like Leonard, willfully submits to their truth. Playing Memento chronologically would remove this set-up and all the confusion and suspense that he rightly feels. Tt would remove the emotional payoff and complexity in the scene which foreshadows his darker motivations, where he hires a hooker to arrange a room and wake him up, yearning for one small moment where his wife still might be alive.
Dorn edits with precision within these colour segments in order to nod to the backwards order, if the first scene doesn't immediately tell us that, or an alive Teddy right after his death. Key actions and scenarios from the end (and thus beginning) of each scene are neatly stitched together to portray the cause and effect of Leonard's journey and the instructions of his mementos. But the reveal of each character's deception of Lenny (including himself) would not be as effective without the excellent casting. The film comes right after the hugely successful Matrix, where Carrie Ann Moss and Joe Pantoliano play a trustworthy protagonist and deceptive antagonist respectively. The genius of this is that it subconsciously sets up our expectations for these two characters; we know nothing about them, like Lenny, so we are forced to trust the little notes and clues and their performances. Moss plays a wonderfully exposed and vulnerable character, stumbling into the house with signs of injury...before it is later revealed that it was Lenny who inflicted them as she hurled profanities and insults at him. Teddy is shown to be the villain from the very first scene but later is revealed to be assisting Leonard's quest for revenge. Of course, they aren't too cut and dry. Teddy's corruption and drug deals slides seamlessly into the Natalie's side of the story; he shows manipulative (phone calls) but also caring actions towards Lenny. Natalie, realising that Lenny doesn't remember anything about acquiring her dead boyfriend's car and clothes, sleeps with him.
Of course the backwards colour scenes would not have the same effect if they weren't separated and paced by the chronological black and white scenes, which start with the opposite tone. Whereas every colour scene Leonard wakes up with no memory and has to restart his brain and focus on his next move, the B&Ws start with an almost objective sense. Nolan shoots in a documentary-like style, the almost droning voice-over of Lenny feels like reading a script, narrating a story or sound-bites from an interview. Extreme close ups demonstrate disorientation and confusion while the overhead, surveillance camera-like angle focuses the scene objectively. They start with Leonard almost devoid of motivation or outside intrusion, but slowly shift throughout the film, as he begins to question who exactly he is speaking to on the phone and what he is being asked to do. This sets up the culmination of the two levels converging into a very clever shot where the colour emerges just as Leonard shakes the polaroid.
There's been plenty of debate on the veracity of Teddy's confession in Memento's climax. Taking it as it is, it's the catalyst for the movie's themes to converge and manifest into the decision of Leonard to start the whole chase for Teddy, which ends with his death at the start of the film. Having being deceived by ever other character himself, he deliberately sets up his own deception and consciously alters the truth. He burns the evidence of the two former John Gs (who knows how many have been erased) and decides on a new John G. Like waking up to his deceased wife's mementos and thinking for a fleeting second that she is alive, Leonard yearns for that same satisfaction in revenge. He conditions himself to believe so - my wife wasn't diabetic, he says, as his memory flickers and the insulin needle is altered to a finger, or the very quick flash of himself in the mental institution instead of Sammy. But that's okay - his memory has covered up those instances. It's a remarkable transition from the sometimes clueless but passionately motivated Lenny that Guy Pearce delivers from the beginning.
Memento is tightly wound - it's edits never linger for more than the necessary time in order to orientate its audience for just the tiny amount - it's paramount for us to be as confused as Leonard, even as we slowly unlock the puzzle. Every note, tattoo or fragment of information is then disclosed with much more suspense and revelation than a chronological structure would allow. Each 10 minute memory segment then is able to build and sustain upon the twist ending with haunting implications. How many more Teddys? How many more John Gs?