How much do our memories shape us? And what happens to us if they start to unravel?

The delicate nature of recollection and fractured reality is described elegantly in this emotionally powerful story from Michael Franco. Different elements of memory impairment are shown in sympathetic clarity with trauma, alcoholism and dementia all studied in close detail. Bravura performances from the two leads hold the film together with an intense showing that certainly doesn’t pull any punches. Ultimately, the film is humanistic, and sympathy for the characters is integral to an emotive punch. It succeeds with this in full.

An expertly shot set-up movement concentrating on Sylvia’s (towering performance from Jessica Chastain) uneasy first interaction with Saul (Peter Sarsgaard) brilliantly lets the audience in on the fear of trauma. They have just been attending a high school reunion and after an awkward meeting, Sylvia exits and goes home. She suspects that Saul is following her and this is confirmed the next day when she finds that he has spent the night outside her (and her 13-year-old daughter Anna’s) apartment.

Understandably shocked, the unsettling picture develops when she goes through the confused Saul’s pockets and calls a number she finds in there. He is then picked up by a carer and taken home. It becomes apparent that he is a sufferer of early-onset dementia, and has severe problems with short-term memory. The bouts of unpredictable behaviour brought on by frustration with the illness and his place in the world is poignantly portrayed by Sarsgaard.

The truth of why Sylvia was so scared by Saul’s presence even before he followed her is brought out in an explosive burst of dialogue between the two in a local park. The uncovering of the truth is the mystery of the plot, and it is sensitively dealt with in an unfurling narrative that weaves around the central characters’ reflections and unclear memories.

Memory adeptly brings out the complications of how memory works for and against us in the relationship of the two. Where the film is not quite so successful is the handling of the mother-daughter relationships. While Sylvia is undoubtedly devoted to her daughter (well played by Brooke Timber) we never really know how Anna feels about the whole situation. She is undoubtedly tough; after all, she has lived her entire life with a recovering alcoholic estranged from her grandparents and cousins.

However, other than acting as a focus to highlight Saul’s caring side, Anna is distant from most of the action of the film. Her thoughts on the burgeoning romance between her mother and the mysterious new man largely go unexplored.

Perhaps because the film is so squarely focused on Sylvia and Saul it loses a bit of power when it examines other characters in the extended family. The complications of these dynamics occasionally play out as staged and forced. This is certainly true of Sylvia’s own mother (Jessica Harper) who seems placed in the story to act as an enabling figurehead of insidious concealment. While the showy meltdowns of familial rage certainly have dramatic force, they are theatrical in comparison to the quieter more naturalised plays between the two leads.

It is the chemistry of these two that shows off the film at its best. An unconventional love story and a moving tale of accepting the past and moving forward, it leaves an impression that will be long remembered.