“It has the gratuitous fun, the unflinching assurance, and the honest modesty of B-movies at their best”

With Arrested Memory, veteran Japanese director Sabu graces us with a crowd-pleaser that has all the makings of a fine vintage action thriller. Clocking in at just eighty minutes (plus the credits), it runs as straight as an arrow, free of any distraction or digression, and full of absolute confidence in its capabilities in every department – storytelling, aesthetics, rhythm, and tone shifts between grittiness and goofiness. The prologue swiftly puts the film on the right tracks, at the same time enjoyably familiar in its tropes (an undercover cop, a secret crime reunion taking place in an over-the-top setting) and surprisingly unique in its making: the cinematography is under the neonized influence of Nicolas Winding Refn, and the inevitable fist fight between the cop and the thief is shot in slow motion, accompanied by a choice of music which highlights its resemblance to a gracious modern dance ballet – the beauty of which is enhanced by its brilliant editing.

Then, without any form of warning, Arrested Memory plays its ace in the hole: the memory loss of its main character, Lee (Ethan Juan), which manifests itself at the worst possible time, therefore worsening Lee’s condition in return due to the trauma caused. After which the film jumps, once again without transition, to a completely new storyline, this time the main one: a kidnapping case so convoluted it would be enough to build a successful film noir around, involving the police, two gangs of criminals – the kidnappers and some drug smugglers – and the panicked rich family of the kidnapped child. By adding Lee’s amnesia to all these pieces scattered around, an amnesia that turns him into a loose cannon incapable of remembering for long enough his orders or his intel (in other words, making him the least efficient cop ever), thus running God knows where or why like a wild dog, Arrested Memory becomes the unexpected child of Christopher Nolan’s Memento – a man’s blackouts and hallucinations drive the screenplay – and Boyle’s Shallow Grave – everybody wants to win big, nobody is smart enough not to screw everything up all by themselves – topped up with your perfectly executed dose of Eastern Asian action of all sorts.

With all those different notes in its partition, dissonance could very well strike at every corner of Arrested Memory, every cut between two scenes or even two lines of dialogue – but it just never does. The film manages to remain convincing and engaging in every mood and genre it tackles, from suspense (about the outcome of the whole affair) and gunfights (the final showdown between Lee and the villains), to silly (the hopelessness of the wannabe evil characters) or twisted comedy (when the victim’s relatives turn against the police). Even when it tries its hand at melancholy (Lee’s visions of his former teammates) or romance (an unexpected love story that does not feel like it comes out of nowhere, even though it kind of does), Arrested Memory has us on board, never feeling it is time to leave this outrageous ship drift away on its own.

Just like its protagonist, the film manages to land on its feet whatever the conundrum it got itself in, and whatever way it uses to get out of it. It has the gratuitous fun (each element is mainly there to deliver that), the unflinching assurance (never doubting being on the right track), and the honest modesty (never looking for an unnecessary higher level of artistic or intellectual seriousness) of B-movies at their best, reminding us why we have so much love for this type of film, and why we need more of these to have a good time at the theater.