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 Do you have traumatic memories that you'd like to rid yourself of? Well, hold on to your seat (or seats, for the conjoined twin and/or mind-bogglingly obese portion of our readership), because in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Lacuna Incorporated has come up with a machine that does precisely that.
Think about it: no more troubling worries! No more lifelong trauma! No more haunting nightmares based on horrible past mistakes! Just imagine the world that you could inhabit: Before… "I find myself terrified of dogs, ever since I got mauled by that rabid stray. What's that, you say? A doctor who can wipe out my terrible memories with the push of a button? Wow!" After… "I feel great! I retain no memories whatsoever of whatever it was that I was afraid of in the first place, or why I would possibly have been afraid of it. On a completely unrelated note, I wonder how I got all these scars on my face, arms and buttocks? Say, nevermind -- there's a stray dog foaming at the mouth. I'd better find a good taunting stick because I see SOMEONE who needs a good old-fashioned stick-taunting! Who wants a stick-taunting? Who does? Yes you do! Yes you doaWWGAGHHH!" Still not convinced? How about these other testimonials from satisfied customers who've had their memories erased: "I had had the same childhood fears for years. After getting my memory erased, I can live free of fear. Now if you'll excuse me, I want to go see what happens if I put this leathery, skin-grafted hand of mine in a pot of boiling water. Wow. I just got the weirdest sense of déjà vu!" "Due to a string of bad experiences, I used to be afraid of men. Thanks to the good people of Lacuna, I think I'm falling in love with the hard-drinkingest, most violent-tempered boyfriend I've ever had!" "WHO AM I? WHO THE HELL AM I?" Eternal Sunspots on the Shiny Mind does not seem to address any of the afore-alluded-to scenarios. It does, however, star Jim Carrey, whose mere ability to continue to get work in films speaks volumes for humanity's apparent inability to retain concrete memories of past mistakes. Carrey stars as a man haunted by his past and eager to forget the distressing fact that he starred in The Majestic. He lines up an appointment with a Lacuna doctor and asks all the pertinent questions. Notably, he wonders whether using this mew technology will cause brain damage. The doctor, predictably, answers by holding up copies of Me, Myself & Irene and Ace Ventura II: When Nature Calls, stating that science can't undo pre-existing retardation. Carrey gets the last laugh, however, by doing a quick about-face and yodeling out of his anus.  Carrey throws caution to the wind and goes through with the procedure. What ensues is... well, most likely it's something, I suspect, though if you pressed me to take a stance on precisely what the film might entail, the best I could come up with would be "someone filming a fever-dream in real-time." A quick-cut montage of bizarre scenes assaults us: Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet in a bed in the arctic; Carrey and Winslet in a giant sink; Winslet disappearing into thin air; Kirsten Dunst dancing in her skivvies (actually, I had no problem with that part); Mark Ruffalo dancing in his skivvies (I had issues with the filmmaker's vision here, however).
And on. And on and on and on. Before you know it, Carrey cries out that he wants his whole de-traumatization process to stop. And here, I suppose, is where the lesson of the film comes in: Don't try to just wipe away your memories with a machine, because if you do, you'll probably be kind of upset about it and live in a sink for a while with Kate Winslet. It's not really the kind of moral that's going to be terribly effective in most situations, I admit -- I couldn't see it being overly helpful while waiting in the 10 items or less line at the grocery store, for instance, or filing your taxes. If you're ever approached by implausibly science-fictiony companies asking to erase your memories like a magnet on a VHS tape, you can think back and just say NO. Of course, unless you're recklessly adventurous or negligently stupid, you most likely would have said no anyway. Still: now you've got a moral to buttress that sensible decision. In spite of all the technical and logistical hang-ups, however, I must say that the trailer's pretty captivating. It presents the viewer with an interesting possibility and offers up legitimate if grudging star power in Carrey. More impressively, it's managed to capture over a minute of Jim Carrey footage in which there are no fart noises or attempts to mime-hump the furniture. Add to this the fact that the screenplay was written by Charlie Kaufman, who brought us Being John Malkovich and Adaptation - a man who, let's keep in mind, managed to make Nicolas Cage watchable - and suddenly you have what seems to be a pretty damn intriguing movie. Based on the above criteria, I'm going to go ahead and give Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind four Billy Crystals. And if it turns out that the movie sucks, well... I'll just use this new machine I built to help me forget that I recommended it. Now if you'll excuse me, I see a dog that needs a bit of the ollll' taunting.
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