Don't Forget To Remember. It is an intriguing title.

In trans theorist Jack Halberstam’s book The Queer Art Of Failure, he explores the nature of forgetting as a form of social power and critique. Forgetfulness can be weaponised, as oppressors refuse to acknowledge the violence that underscores their power – but forgetfulness, Halberstam also claims, can also be a form of social resistance. It can allow “for a release from the weight of the past and the menace of the future” – an idea that could be vital in imagining a future free from historical and received knowledge, paradigms and forms of social organising like heteronormativity.

Halberstam’s ideas are important and complex, but his explorations are often playful and whimsical, using the absent-minded character of Dory from Finding Nemo to explore the power of forgetting. Dory and her constantly resetting short term memory, Halberstam notes, possesses a unique proclivity for resisting negative social forces. Through forgetting, Dory releases herself from negative memories, cynicism, worry – and the trap of self-identity. She lives in the present, experiencing the world anew, seeing its beauty, and constantly forging improvised relationships and communities. Dory’s forgetfulness means she can’t hold a grudge, she can’t worry about the future, and she can’t hold onto outdated ideas of those she loves. Dory meets everyone as they are, right now, appreciating every moment, no matter how fleeting.

The pain, power and possibility of forgetting is explored in Irish director Ross Killeen’s beautiful new film, Don’t Forget To Remember, which casts an eye over the relationship between artist Abestos and his mother Helena, who has Alzheimer’s. Ross is likely best known to Hot Press readers as the director of Love Yourself Today, the acclaimed, highly emotional documentary centred around Damien Dempsey's Vicar Street concerts – but which also examines the lives of three recovering addicts who are part of the community of Damo fans.

“One of the songs is about suicide and missing people," Ross told Hot Press about going to his first Damien Dempsey gig, "and my mother was very sick at the time with dementia. So the song just resonated with me, and suddenly I found myself in floods of tears."

We are in related territory here.

Helena is cared for with love and patience by her husband, who admits that the 24/7 job increasingly feels like he’s speaking to his wife, but not with her. Nevertheless, he talks to her, every day trying to gently coax her to find a word for their daily crossword puzzles. Helena can rarely help, and the scenes alternate between feeling tragic and tender, showing Helena’s struggles alongide her husband’s determination to bring routine, interaction and laughter to her day.

Helena’s son, the multi-talented street artist Abestos, admits that his role as a creative means he both experiences his mother’s forgetting while also observing it, processing his mother’s condition and their switched role of carer/cared for through his art – which, thankfully, is still a source of connection for the mother and son. Helena can remember Abestos’ early creative spark and laughs with joy whenever she sees photos or drawings of her son at a young age.

These moments of connection and memory make Helena’s confusion and blankness more painful to observe, but Abestos also complicates our understanding of her forgetting by noting its small, strange beauty at times. Helena was always a worrier, left anxious and even traumatised by her own childhood, and Abestos notes that she now doesn’t worry. This isn’t presented as or expected to be a consolation, of course, but highlights his ability to see both the mother he always knew and her new way of existing, and the difference in those identities.

Abestos’ art evokes these ideas, as the artist creates intricate collages layering on memories, associations and meanings in fragmented ways to show the true nature of memory. He then uses old blackboards and chalk to reinterpret old family photographs, displaying them publicly and allowing them to dissolve and disintegrate over time. Killeen brings this visual metaphor into his direction, often erasing, concealing or scribbling over footage to capture the elusive quality of memory and identity.

This style never overtakes the emotion of the piece but heightens it, the love and care always clear even when the memories become smudged.

Don't Forget To Remember is a stunning film. Go. Watch. Call your Mam.