Alice Howland knows that she’s living on borrowed time. She’s well aware of what fate awaits her
having been diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s disease and seeing those
whose minds have been ravaged by it, their vacant eyes disconnected from the
past and unable to interpret the present.
She jogs and watches what she eats, the care she’s devoted to her
physical health now a cruel joke as she will no longer be able to consciously
enjoy her later years, instead imprisoned by them, fated to be a burden to her
family. Alice is fully aware that she
will soon become a member of the living dead and despite precautions she may
take to prevent this, she knows there’s nothing see can do about it.
Richard Glatzer and Wash Westmoreland’s adaptation of Lisa
Genova’s novel Still Alice is a horror story of a different sort, an
unflinching look at a disease that robs those afflicted of their identity, of
all they ever were and all they ever will be.
That the film avoids becoming a melodramatic disease-of-the-week TV
movie is due in large part to the efforts of Julianne Moore, as the actress
manages to create a fully drawn character during a few scenes in the film’s
first half-hour so that we might witness her tragically slip away, piece by heartbreaking
piece. Her transition from being a
vibrant, engaged, happy woman to that of a listless, distant, shell of a human
being is a calculated exercise but it never feels so in the actress’ hands as
her willingness to inhabit the darkness and confusion of her character makes
for a harrowing and tragic journey that is ultimately a cry for action against
this disease.
Living an upper middle class lifestyle in New York City as a
professor at Columbia University where her husband John (Alec Baldwin) also
teaches, the film effectively drives home that Alzheimer’s does not recognize
social status as a barrier. It can reach
and destroy anyone at anytime though there is a genetic predisposition to it, a
revelation that adds the burden of guilt to Alice’s woes as she becomes
concerned about the fate of her daughters Anna and Lydia (Kate Bosworth and
Kristin Stewart) and son Tom (Hunter Parrish).
All three undergo genetic mapping tests to determine if they’re likely
to follow in their mother’s footsteps and what they find is hardly any solace
as they watch her disappear before their eyes.
Preventing the film from being fully successful is that
Alice is the only fully drawn character in the movie. Despite the efforts of the talented cast,
they’re unable to truly bring much to the table. However, it it isn’t necessarily their fault
as the script is lacking in details and moments in which they can inject any
life into their characters. Baldwin is
handcuffed and can do little but render John as the worried spouse, while
Bosworth is particularly one-note as the constantly disapproving Anna. Surprisingly, Stewart is able to create a
sympathetic ear as Lydia proves to be the only one able to connect and find the
patience to be with her mother while still being able to see her as she once
was.
Perhaps the most haunting moment is the one that
showcases Moore’s ability in the best light.
Well aware of what lies ahead of her, Alice records a short movie on her
computer, leaving simple instructions for her future self to follow if the
direst of circumstances occur. Months
later, she does find it and at this moment, Moore’s skill is on full display as
we see Alice, addled and confused, gazing at her past self, fully lucid on the
computer screen. How far the character
has fallen is driven home in an instant as Moore creates an indelible moment
that fully captures the tragedy of Alice and the millions of others that fall
victim to horrors of Alzheimer’s.
This article appears in Feb 19-25, 2015.
