'Still Alice' is based on a novel, presumably fiction, but the premise is so detailed and precise that there doesn't seem to be doubt that countless people have lived through nearly identical situations. We meet our heroine, Alice Howland, a doctor of linguistics and a professor at Columbia University. She is introduced before a lecture as being a world expert on language and development skills. On stage, she begins presenting her research on pronouns in regards to early child development. She loses her train of thought... There is a hesitation, and she laughs awkwardly as she tried to rediscover her ideas. "I guess I shouldn't have had that champagne," she said to the audience's laughter.
She returns home, a gorgeous brownstone that she shares with her us and (Alec Baldwin). On the outside, their life is everything we could dream of: Dream jobs, three grown kids, a solid marriage. Early in the film, Alice visits her youngest daughter, Lydia (Kristen Stewart), and like most moms would, tries to convince her to go to college in lieu of her acting dreams. Unlike her two other children, Alice sees Lydia throwing away all her potential in search of something that may not come to fruition. Why can't she be more like her siblings?
The buildup to inciting actions are slight. Alice goes jogging and gets lost on her school's campus. She meets her son's girlfriend and introduces herself twice during the course of one evening. In another movie we might see the husband take notice and contact a doctor. Not so, Alice is resourceful and aware of her problems, and she begins seeing a neurologist to form a diagnosis: early-onset Alzheimer's. Yes she is younger than most sufferers of the disease, but it is possible. The condition also has a more rapid deterioration, and Alice becomes more prone to forgetfulness.
Her husband deals with it in stride. Her children, not so much. It is discovered that the disease is genetic and has potential to carry down child to child. Alice's oldest daughter shies away from discussion, and becomes defensive when Lydia tries talking to her mom about how she feels. Amongst her children, Lydia becomes the source of sanity as she and Alice have healthy conversations about side effects and how terrible it must be. Her other children back away into the shadows to become mere caricatures of what ones family shouldn't do in such a situation. For support, Lydia becomes Alice's go to companion. As her memories slip, it doesn't cause Alice to reconsider her daughter's acting choices, but as an audience member it sure does. If all we have are the moments we live, then why not do the things we love most?
Julianne Moore, of course, is our Alice, and her performance doesn't follow the typical course of dramatic performances. At the news of diagnosis, she is scared, nearly humiliated at having to tell her family and job about her problem. "I wish I had cancer," she says flatly in one scene, since those who suffer cancer are supported with pink ribbons and walks to the cure. Alzheimer's is simply a burden. Little by little, she disappears, and through good days and bad, she continues to deteriorate. Her performance is a revelation. What could have been a little-seen film is something that is nearly sure to win Moore her first (and well-earned) Oscar. She creates a real woman who by the end of the film can barely mumble, sits in a chair all day and stares at a blank TV. At her first diagnosis, she makes a list of questions (oldest child's name, home address, etc), questions that if she cannot answer would justify her ending her life. She continues checking her phone daily to make sure she knows the answers, but what she doesn't realize is that by the end, she will have forgotten what a phone is at all, let alone a question.
The deterioration of her mind is key, and the film chooses cinematic ways to portray her illness, from a literal lack of focus in the camera lens to jump cuts that span months. In that regard, we oftentimes are sympathetic to Alice's situation when she, for instance, wakes up in a new house wearing a bracelet marked "memory impaired." It takes a few minutes to realize she it simply vacationing at their beach house. At the films ending Alice recalls her mother and sister, both dead in a car crash from years ago. It's a rough, out of focus memory, and the film suddenly cuts to white. In a movie so full of emotional moments (having to wait while her daughter decides if it's okay for her to hold a newborn baby, or being unable to find her bathroom in her own home), the ending is all the sadder. In a life built on family and wealth and memories, the pain isn't seeing it come to an end, it is not having any resolution or closure before it is gone forever.
(Awards potential: Best Actress (Moore), Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Original Score)
