In Memory of My Father

With 'In Memory of My Father', relatively new auteur Christopher Jaymes has created the perfect depiction of loss, depression, selfishness, love, and jealousy as applied to one family.

How do we deal with loss? We drink. We get high. We have sex. We escape from loss, but the characters in 'In Memory…' get no such escape. Even with sex, drugs, and alcohol none can escape the hell dad's death has created. It takes the length of the film for the brothers to discover what has actually happened: that they are alone, that their father is exactly the man they remember, and that they always knew it. They can't escape their past, they can't escape their present, and they're damned to a future that resembles that of their father's life. Surrounded by family, but dying alone.

The aesthetic style of 'In Memory…' evokes a slight documentary feel, much like 'The Office' and 'Arrested Development'. Characters address the cameras, but as the story progresses, we leave the device behind and focus on the drama, comedy, and the bitingly funny stirring of the soul that develops.

Witty, poignant, brilliant, filled with squeamishly uncomfortable moments and mouth-agape situations, 'In Memory…' is most honest movie to come along this year, and I only hope Jaymes is able to continue making films of this caliber.