Memory Laine: As the days go by

By Danai-Nesta Kupemba

The seemingly endless number of hours, minutes, seconds that drag through quarantine, our lives reduced to repetitive activities, the lack of social interaction driving us slowly mad. Memory Laine, directed by Maude Sandham, plays like an infinite night with no sunrise in sight.

In the dreary patterns of lockdown, the film begs the question: what is a memory? Days bleed into each other with no definitive events to mark them.

We all long for the pre-Covid days, when we could call our friends and ask what we were planning for the night. When we could touch, kiss and hug one another without the fear of contracting a distressing disease. Isolated and starved of social interaction, we begin to lose a sense of self, of perspective.

Memory Laine is a spectacular depiction of this melancholic distress, of dissonance between body and mind;the everyday struggle to drag yourself to the shower when you’re drained of purpose. The simplest activities become the hardest of the day.

We’ve never had this much time relegated to doing nothing, leaving us with only ourselves to explore, as we paradoxically feel ourselves disappearing.

Memory Laine warps time. A tap dripping denotes a lagging that makes you wonder if time is truly moving. The loop subverts our own sense of time. Is Memory Laine 14 minutes or an hour?

This short feature pulls you in and refuses to leave without a sense of dread. The sadness echoes through each scene, sticking to you long after the fade to black.

Memory Laine on the vNAF Fringe programme, you can find it here.

Facilitator/Director – Maude Sandham

Editor– Tana Pistorius

Performance – Nicole Butow, Bianca Pieterse, Anke Snyman, and Jody Werner

Cinematography– Nicole Butow, Bianca Pieterse, Anke Snyman, and Jody Werner

Soundscapes – Nicole Butow, Bianca Pieterse, Anke Snyman, and Jody Werner

Sound Design – Tana Pistorius