“Who Am I Again?”: The Gloriously Ridiculous Film Trope of Amnesia

In the land of movie magic, few plot devices are more abused, more melodramatic, or more scientifically laughable than amnesia. It’s the Swiss Army knife of screenwriting: need your protagonist to start over? Give them amnesia. Want your villain to reform? Amnesia. Trying to explain why a woman woke up in a mansion, married to a man she doesn’t recognize, wearing a full face of makeup and heels? Yep, amnesia again.
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But here’s the thing: while real-life amnesia is rare, nuanced, and usually linked to trauma or illness, movie amnesia is an all-purpose narrative bludgeon, wielded with the subtlety of a telenovela slap. Let’s dive into the trope that refuses to die, even if the character forgets everything else.

A Convenient Case of “Whoops, I Forgot My Entire Identity”

Let’s begin with The Bourne Identity, or, as it should be called, Amnesia: But Make It Sexy and Violent. Jason Bourne wakes up on a fishing boat with no memory of who he is, yet somehow retains fluency in multiple languages, the ability to perform Krav Maga, and a profound knowledge of espionage. He forgets his name, sure, but he remembers how to kill a man with a ballpoint pen. The brain works in mysterious ways.

The Bourne franchise commits one of Hollywood’s most beloved sins: selective amnesia. The character forgets everything that is inconvenient to the plot. Still, it retains just enough skills and instincts to ensure a high body count and a brisk box office return.

Retrograde, Anterograde, and the Hollywood Combo Platter

There are two basic types of real amnesia:

• Retrograde: You forget things that happened before the trauma.
• Anterograde: You can’t form new memories after the trauma.

In Hollywood, these categories are tossed into a blender, sprinkled with absurdity, and served up like a sad smoothie. Take 50 First Dates. Drew Barrymore’s character has a brain injury that resets her memory every day. But rather than consult a neurologist, her family replays a VHS tape for her each morning like a deranged version of Groundhog Day. It’s sweet. It’s romantic. It’s medically horrifying.

To be clear: this specific kind of memory reset, where you live the same day over and over again without forming long-term memory, is almost entirely fictional. But it allows for Adam Sandler to sing and cry in Hawaii, so… science can take a backseat.

Soap Operas: The Hall of Fame for Plot-Driven Amnesia

Amnesia in soap operas isn’t a diagnosis, it’s a lifestyle. On shows like Days of Our Lives or The Bold and the Beautiful, memory loss strikes with alarming regularity. Bump your head? Congratulations, you’ve forgotten your spouse and are now in love with their evil twin.

It’s not uncommon for a character to get amnesia, recover, get amnesia again, and then develop a rare form of reverse amnesia where they only remember things that never actually happened. In the world of soaps, memory is less of a biological process and more of a poorly secured Word document, vulnerable to spontaneous deletion.

“Wait—Who Are You?”: Amnesia for Comic Relief

While some films use amnesia to build tension or pathos, others use it as the setup for a laugh riot. Take Overboard (1987), a cinematic fever dream where Goldie Hawn falls off a yacht, gets amnesia, and is gaslit by a working-class carpenter into thinking she’s his wife so she can do his laundry and raise his kids. Ha ha! What a delightful crime!

The 2000s remake, starring Anna Faris, gender-flipped the premise. Still, it kept the core message: amnesia is hilarious if you don’t think about ethics or legality for even one second.

Then there’s The Majestic (2001), where Jim Carrey gets amnesia, is mistaken for a war hero, and proceeds to rebuild an entire town. No one ever seems to call a doctor or ask for a second opinion. In movie logic, if you say, “I don’t know who I am,” people just hand you a new life and hope for the best.

Real Amnesia: Slightly Less Convenient

Now that we’ve laughed at Hollywood’s nonsense, let’s briefly get in touch with reality.
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True amnesia is extremely rare. According to neurologists, most cases are caused by:

• Traumatic brain injury
• Stroke
• Severe psychological trauma (in very rare cases)
• Certain infections or alcohol abuse (like Wernicke-Korsakoff syndrome)

And crucially, complete memory loss of identity is rarely permanent. The brain is resilient and, outside of soap operas and beachside rom-coms, it doesn’t usually wipe your entire personality after a bonk on the head.

​Also, people don’t forget just their name and address, but remember how to play the piano blindfolded.

​That kind of neat, modular compartmentalization of memory doesn’t exist in the way movies love to pretend it does. In reality, memory loss is messy, frustrating, and not especially photogenic.

The Mystery Magnet: Why Writers Love Amnesia Anyway

Despite its total lack of realism, amnesia remains a screenwriter’s best friend. Why?

1. It resets the story without killing off the character.
2. It creates instant mystery: Who is this person? What did they do?
3. It allows for dual identity drama, which is gold for conflict.

And sometimes, it’s just lazy writing. Instead of figuring out how to build a character arc, you whack them with a plot rock and make them forget everything.

But when used cleverly, it can still pack a punch. Memento (2000), Christopher Nolan’s mind-bending thriller, explores anterograde amnesia with rare psychological depth and innovation. The narrative structure itself reflects the protagonist’s disorder, forcing the audience to experience his disorientation firsthand.

Compare that to The Vow (2012), in which Rachel McAdams gets into a car accident, forgets her marriage, and ends up being wooed again by Channing Tatum in various soft-lit cafes. Heartwarming? Sure. Medically plausible? Only if you believe head trauma can selectively erase your wedding night but not your appreciation for indie acoustic music.

Closing Thoughts (Unless I Forget Them)

Ultimately, movie amnesia is less about neurology and more about emotional reboot. It lets characters reinvent themselves, dodge accountability, or fall in love with the same person twice. It’s memory loss as fantasy, not tragedy. It’s neuroscience as glitter.

So next time you see someone wake up in a hospital bed, gaze at a mirror, and whisper, “Who am I?” don’t panic. You’re not in a medical emergency. You’re just watching another gloriously silly entry in Hollywood’s amnesia-industrial complex.
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And if this article made you forget every real thing you knew about memory disorders, well, Hollywood would call that poetic. The rest of us might call a neurologist.