Imagine The Hangover mixed with the worst possible Lifetime original film that you can think of and, well, you've practically got Chris Sivertson's Shattered Memories. While I did sit through the entire thing, this film is unspeakably unwatchable. Not only did I (as well as my whole family) become so bored and started making my own commentary, but I could not see past how unbelievably shattered every aspect of this movie was. This film has the production value of a high schooler's student film but even saying that would be insulting to the creative minds of teenage students. Anyone (and I mean ANYONE) could have thought up a better story than this one and paired with the horrendous camerawork and lighting, I simply can not find one good aspect about this entire production.
Holly (Elizabeth Bogush) wakes up one morning next to the corpse of her previous night's hookup Ray (Brad Schmidt); who definitely isn't her husband, either. While she makes her way around the city communicating with her sisters and band of friends, she attempts to solve the mystery of what happened the night before - before anyone else can discover that Ray is gone. Every issue that I have with this film can be summed up by one shot towards the beginning of this story: when Holly gets dropped off at her house by an Uver. Not an Uber, an Uver. This shot gave me all the information that I needed to know about this movie: the budget was low, the creativity was absent, and the attempted relation to our reality was practically nonexistent. I find it hard to believe that any rational human had agreed to take part in this production as every little detail that makes filmmaking so spectacular felt so robotic and lifeless in this movie. This movie is the epitome of gathering a bunch of white people together and shooting a quaint, little story over the course of a single weekend. Or, at least, that's what it felt like. I would be genuinely surprised if any more effort was put into the creation of this disaster. I suppose I should not be so ruthless when it comes to critiquing films, especially ones like these that I know will be mistakes, but it frustrates me beyond belief when something like this gets greenlit. I will never understand how a film like this one gets made, as the absolute lack of originality astounds me. Either Chris Sivertson himself is a robot or someone fed an AI a thousand hours of Lifetime films and it spat out this script.
I frankly do not want to spend any more time discussing what I hated most about this film, as I'm sure you get the point. But now that I'm worked up, I'm going to do it anyways. Every performance in this film was plastic at best. Bogush and Schmidt, along with others including Eddie Kaye Thomas, Sarah Lind, and Philip Boyd, were completely atrocious. Their over-the-top acting did not fit this film's tone at all, which is a compliment to even say that the film attempted to have a tone. The script, also written by Chris Sivertson, is a travesty in and of itself, as he might as well have been pressing the auto-predict feature on an iPhone. Every line spoken throughout this movie is so one-dimensional and cliched, that it's actually painful to listen to. I may not agree with the messages behind why certain movies are made, but I can at least appreciate that there's a message. If there's one thing that makes me despise a film more than anything, it's a lack of reason. While the story made absolutely no sense and there wasn't a single, cohesive thought in this entire production, one might think that maybe the technical aspects are somewhat salvageable. You would be wrong. The cinematography from Chris Heinrich was at least usable, but showed no basic thought at all. The only shot that sticks out in my mind would be the opening one, as the camera spins to reveal the body lying behind Holly. I must admit that I had a wee sliver of hope with that first shot, but that was quickly dashed away. Anjoum Agrama's editing made for, perhaps, the worst viewing experience I have ever had. Cutting after shots were visibly supposed to end, unfocused color grading, terrible flashback sequences, and audio that didn't even match the actors and actresses' lips are just the tip of the iceberg of what makes this film's post-production literal garbage.
While Shattered Memories sounds like the title of an early 2000s alt-rock song, it's better described as a lifeless husk of a story. Riddled with over-the-top performances, an incoherent story, and editing that will make you puke, it was physically difficult for me to sit and even pretend to feel any sort of satisfaction. This film, in all honesty, makes Tommy Wiseau's The Room look like a decent attempt at filmmaking.
My Rating: ½
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