Griffiths plays Pamela Drury (a name that sounds an awful lot like "dreary"), a single, well-respected magazine writer whose latest birthday, and the evenings of booze and porn that accompany it, occasions a stroll down memory lane, back to the days of Robert Dickson, the proverbial one who got away. What if she had accepted his proposal? After a half-hearted suicide attempt, Pamela finds herself living the speculation: she has supplanted an alternative universe version of herself (who steals away when our Pamela isn't looking) to become Mrs. Dickson, homemaker and mother of three. And, despite having to wipe bottoms and cook proper meals, she settles into the role quite comfortably.

Demi Moore's heroine has issues far removed from Pamela's in Passion of Mind: her well-to-do New York literary agent Marty becomes a widowed mother living in France named Marie every time she goes to bed at night--or is it the other way around? Fully conscious, like Pamela, of this dual existence, she seeks psychiatric counsel on opposite coasts; the New York shrink believes Marie's to be the dream world, a matter of a busy woman devising a simpler getaway for herself. Dr. Langer from France has an equally strong argument: doesn't everybody imagine being wealthy and successful?

That's about as wily as Ron Bass and David Field's screenplay gets. It avoids asking crucial questions that can't be answered with a minimum of fuss, such as, What would happen if Marty/Marie took an afternoon nap? Or, What would happen if a loud noise woke her suddenly? If I were the boyfriend of either personality, I would grill her about such things; Aaron (William Fichtner) and William (Stellan Skarsgard), however, are satisfied with the information she has distributed to them. Instead, these two men choose to spend precious dialogue carping about their jealousy of the other, even though Aaron considers William only a figment and vice versa.

I don't necessarily harbour any ideological grudges against the glacially paced Passion of Mind, but I definitely have issues with Me Myself I, the livelier, funnier entry of the two that nevertheless leaves a sourer aftertaste. Passion of Mind waxes philosophically and at a distance about women not being able to have the best of both identities--this negotiating between corporate affairs and housewifery is impractical in the long run, society (i.e. Marty/Marie's confidants) says. A project conceived and executed entirely by men, it is, ironically, more sensitive to the role of today's women than the female-helmed Me Myself I; Bass and Field leave their protagonist on better terms. To be fair, they arrive on those terms in an annoyingly Hollywood manner that insists on leaving nothing to ambiguity.

Me Myself I confirms Pamela's worst suspicions by story's close: that the key to happiness is finding a man--and wiping bottoms and preparing meals. Yes, Pamela's nuptial alter ego works for a periodical as well, but the computer station where she writes her articles is introduced to us covered in a blanket, a dirty little secret in a backroom that's complemented by a pair of earmuffs, which she is apparently content to wear as she types to blot out household racket. This should bother a multi-award-winning journalist on so many levels, yet all that irks her is the computer's tendency to malfunction.

When Pamela II returns to her family, she tells her temporary replacement, "I had to know." Evidently, a taste of free will has driven her back to a complacent partner and obnoxious offspring; circuitously, a sampling of the ball-and-chain lifestyle will push our Pamela desperately onto the husband-hunting scene. Since when did career ambition turn unfashionable again? And why is a woman telling this regressive tale? It would be nice to meet a motion picture within said category that relaxes, as opposed to inciting, biological clock hysteria. Me Myself I smugly and pathetically positions independence as the step between school and holy vows, not to be considered a goal in and of itself. Pamela's journey is one of repentance for being exceptional, and that's dreary, indeed.

As I mentioned, Me Myself I and Passion of Mind arrived simultaneously on DVD, and their audio-video presentations are comparable. Me Myself I is anamorphically letterboxed at 1.85:1, and the transfer is solid but short of stunning--there is too much artificial edge enhancement, leading to pronounced grain and jagged edges. Colours grow more naturalistic as the movie progresses--by design, I'm sure: pre-switchover, Pamela and her surroundings have a sickly blue tinge to them. The Dolby Digital 5.1 mix, however, is excellent, showing loud, clear, deep songs and detailed sound-scapes.

Passion of Mind warrants opposite praise. Its anamorphic, 2.35:1 image goes above and beyond the call of duty to offer an accurate representation of Eduardo Serra's handsome cinematography. Bold colours never veer towards oversaturation, and near-perfect contrast leads to consistently high shadow detail. However, the disc's DD 5.1 soundtrack is standard issue for a melodrama, meaning that very few effects find their way into the rears. Although neither the surrounds nor the LFE channel get a chance to work up a sweat, there is some nice, full-bodied bass towards the end of the film.

Me Myself I includes an informative commentary by writer-director Pip Karmel that barely holds our attention due to her sleepy delivery. To be honest, I had to listen to it in pieces, and was put off early on by Karmel's vehement statement that Pamela is not watching triple-X material during a pivotal sequence. (Hmm, a buck-naked woman bouncing up and down and screaming orgasmically--Ms. Karmel, if it walks like a duck...) Trailers for Me Myself I, Mifune, 28 Days, Crazy in Alabama, Hanging Up, and Girl, Interrupted can also be accessed from exceedingly silly menu screens. The Passion of Mind DVD features only the title trailer.-Bill Chambers