In what opens like a scene from Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1942), a man in the face of death takes the time to ask what his life is all about. By peering through the Super 8 footage, he sees the aspects of his existence that challenged, shaped and surprised him, complete with naked bodies. Throughout the film, the character and the audience have to ask, where does memory end and mythology begin? And why is a memoir more potent than a dream?

Curated from a collection of archived work, directors Charles Lum and Todd Verow have patched a story based on hidden truths, and carnal desires. As it comprises decades of Super 8 work, Memorabilia is effectively a tapestry of thought and journey. In terms of explicit sex, the work is as provocative as Bruce La Bruce’s The Visitor, as a montage of bodies pile towards the camera, erect and ready for action.

Lum died in 2021, and Verow finished the work in his absence. Interestingly, this adds another dimension to the dreamscapes that cascade before the viewer, as yet another hidden angle posits another possible reading into the chasms between reality and fantasy. Deeply colourful, the screen is decorated with rippling red and dense, dark black. The shadows of the director’s life and experiences loom over the imagery. A baby-faced man sunk in a bath latches onto the eye, because it combines cherub like innocence and danger in one single setting. The eyes leer into the soul, summoning a dialogue between the protagonist and his lover. Some of it spills out into the movie, while much of it simmers beneath the eyes, lustful and tinged with agitation.

Much of the photography is based on true events, allowing the individual to interpret what it is that they see. In the back there’s a droning sound, like a hair-drying blowing in and out, suggesting unease in a place of comfort. Sound typically elevates dream cinema, gifting this particular drama another jagged edge it might not have otherwise. During one emotive sequence, an egg is tossed as if imagining the struggles every homosexual experiences as he falls from one side of normality to another.

As an artwork, this exploration of reality and meta-physicality is a brave one. In this sense, it serves as a conversation of sorts: what is art? What is it that fuels the memories that creates our stories? How do we mythologise ourselves in the wake of maturity? At 70 minutes, the work is long enough to browse through the pornograhic memorabilia, without becoming exploitative. Tasteful, with the right degree of incitement.

Like the man in the film, the theatre-goers experiences the archive in real time, summoning the feelings and fractures in minute detail. Where it becomes consuming for the old man, it is a facet shared with the people digesting the feature. In that sense, what the late Lum and Verow have created is pure in outlook and execution. An eventful film indeed.

Memorabilia premiered at BFI Flare: