The awards season is upon us—so, we’re launching our Oscar Watch series this week, to help film buffs winnow down 2014’s hefty list of exceptional cinematic achievers:
One of the frontrunners in the Best Actress race is Julianne Moore, who delivers an indelible portrayal in Richard Glatzer and Wash Westmoreland’s “Still Alice”—a role turned down by Julia Roberts, Michelle Pfeiffer and Nicole Kidman before it landed in Moore’s lap!
Moore. Award-worthy portrayal in “Still Alice.”
Moore plays Dr. Alice Howland, a linguistics expert whose ideal life falls apart when she is diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s disease—at age 50! With an attention-calling role like this, it’s easy to succumb to the film’s schmaltzy possibilities—but Moore takes the road less traveled and gives her character the dignity she deserves.
Her illness starts out with sporadic memory lapses—Alice’s inability to articulate the exact words to use in her lectures (a huge irony in her line of work), the familiar names she can’t remember and the dinner dates she forgets. But, the impairment soon becomes alarming when she finds herself inexplicably “lost” in the campus she knows so well!
Heartbreaking decline
The film doesn’t spoil Alice’s story by resisting the urge to overdramatize her truly heartbreaking decline with ululations of grief and histrionic emotionalizing, especially in scenes that show Moore “silently” panicking about her condition’s quick deterioration.
In one scene, she congratulates a theater actress (Kristen Stewart) for her moving performance, and is visibly shaken when she is reminded that the talented thespian is—her beloved daughter!
The illness is tragic for a strong, independent woman whose most precious possessions are her intellect and sharp memory—a condition that reduces her to a scared and confused woman who relies on the kindness and pity of the faces she can’t recognize!
In another scene, Moore empathetically mirrors Alice’s broken confidence when she can’t find the toilet in her house! The scene that follows will tear your heart apart.
Alice sees herself “slowly vanishing” as she valiantly struggles to “stay connected.” She shares, “I rail against myself for forgetting—and for allowing myself to become so far from who I once was!”
As Alice bravely plunges into the abyss, she learns to hate the disease, but loves herself even more—and realizes that the memories she will leave behind will not be gone forever!