Film Review: ‘Still Alice’ – Heartbreaking and Poignant; Julianne Moore is Unforgettable

By: Anthony Hernandez 

In all likelihood, you will not see a better performance from any actress on film this year than Julianne Moore as a linguistics professor and loving mother desperately trying to hold on to her memories and her personality after being diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s. 

Still Alice poises a terrifying question: What would you do if everything you have worked for – every memory, every idea, every thought – was slowly taken from you, cast away and gone forever? Still Alice shines the light on a disease affecting millions – a disease that is misunderstood and frightening to those experiencing it, and those witnessing it.

The film follows Alice Howland – a 50-year-old Columbia professor – whose world slowly becomes unfamiliar to her. She finds herself lost in places she’s been a hundred times and stumbles over words (a major punch to the gut for someone who has spent her entire adult life learning and teaching about words and language). Shortly after the first symptoms, she is diagnosed with a very rare hereditary form of Alzheimer’s. 

At times the movie can seem very clinical in its presentation of the disease – but once the medical jargon sinks in, you become absorbed in the emotional aspect of it. And that’s where the movie shines, when it focuses on the human element – and in its honesty and delicate handling of the subject matter.

Overall, Still Alice is aptly directed and a superbly adapted from the source material. Though there are elements in the plot that feel like the makings of a Hallmark movie, these minor missteps are elevated through the performances and sheer horror that is presented as Alice loses herself. It’s far more frightening to watch than most horror films.

Alec Baldwin plays her husband John – who responds in unexpected ways as his wife begins to slip away. He plays the role of the tether – not just for Alice, but for the audience as well. We feel what he feels, and it is terrifying. There are some contrivances that can be forgiven, and some of the other minor supporting roles feel just that – minor, and lost under the wake of Moore’s achievements here. 

Moore’s facial expressions and “less is more” approach to line reading – combined with the film’s deftly captured progression and acceleration of the disease – will break your heart. I haven’t been so moved by a performance in a long time. It is one of the best performances of Moore’s career, and that’s saying something. She’s already way over-due for her Oscar, and this is her year. You can bet on that. 

And credit must be given to Kristen Stewart, who plays Alice’s youngest daughter (and the artsy black-sheep of the family) Lydia. I’m not a fan of her work, but this is her best performance since Panic Room. She is so sincere and at times, even wonderful, as her character evolves from a self-absorbed young adult with a chip on her shoulder, to the most loving and caring of all of Alice’s children.