The traditional setting of a parlour drama provides an intriguing backdrop for this meditation on technology, mortality and memory. Adapted from Jordan Harrison's Pulitzer-nominated play, Michael Almereyda's film sees Lois Smith reprising her stage role as Marjorie, a grandmother whose deteriorating health and age mean she no longer has a strong grasp on her memories. But she has her Prime to help. Primes are holographic, AI versions of deceased loved ones, who learn how to embody their character through daily conversations about their former lives and relationships. Marjorie has programmed her Prime to evoke her late husband Walter, who appears as his handsome, mid-forties self - just as Marjorie likes to remember him.
Almereyda remains loyal to the confined setting of the play, which mostly takes place in the sitting room of Marjorie's daughter, Tess (Geena Davis). With classic decor and no visible technology, the room allows the director to jump back and forth in time, exploring how three generations of Marjorie's family interact with Primes. The dreamy quality of this seemingly timeless room matches the characters' philosophical musings on memory, which is described as an evolving story that shapes our view of the world, and ourselves. Smith and Hamm's interactions, in particular, have a haunting, melancholic beauty. Other characters remain thinly drawn, limited by the clunkily theatrical script. This sense of artifice highlights awkward contrivances and melodramatic plot developments. But Marjorie Prime still feels like an important addition to the canon of movies that grapple with intimacy and technology.

6/10
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