Still Alice: Profoundly moving

Still Alice (2014) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity and brief profanity
By Derrick Bang

Rare performances transcend acting; we cease being aware of the celebrity star, or the idiosyncrasies of craft and talent, and instead unreservedly accept the character being portrayed.

As her mother (Julianne Moore, right) slides ever further into the helplessness of
Alzheimer's, Lydia (Kristen Stewart) finds that the minor issues that prompted a partial
estrangement no longer matter, and she subsequently becomes her Mom's constant
companion and most sympathetic friend.

Such is the case with Julianne Moore’s riveting, persuasive and heartbreaking work in Still Alice, directed and scripted by Richard Glatzer and Wash Westmoreland, from neuroscientist Lisa Genova’s 2009 debut novel of the same title. Calling the film a vital document of our time seems both pretentious and insufficient, and yet the label is accurate; thoughtful, gracefully constructed dramas of this nature do more to enhance the national (perhaps global?) consciousness than a wealth of news stories or TV documentaries.

And if Moore wins the Academy Award for Best Actress — which she certainly deserves — then this little indie film may get the additional exposure that it also deserves.

She stars here as Alice Howland, a respected university linguistics professor who enjoys a loving and comfortable life with her husband, John (Alec Baldwin). They’re at the peak of their respective careers, and have raised three children: Anna (Kate Bosworth), Tom (Hunter Parrish) and Lydia (Kristen Stewart). Life seems ideal.

And then, gradually, Alice realizes that she’s misplacing things to a degree that feels somewhere north of “normal.”

Her mild concern erupts into full-blown terror when, during a routine morning jog across campus, she suddenly doesn’t know where she is, and has no idea where she’s going.

She immediately seeks medical consultation; the eventual diagnosis is Early-Onset Alzheimer’s Disease. Knowing full well what that involves, Alice faces the certainty of slowly losing all her memories and perception: everything revolving around her professional work, and ultimately even the basic recognition of best friends and family members.

What follows is not easy to watch, to say the least. Glatzer and Westmoreland carefully (and wisely) eschew any sort of “movie-making” technique, preferring instead to depict Alice’s increasing disorientation in a quiet, cinema-verité manner that is shattering, even as she fights heroically to salvage ever-smaller pieces of herself.

The title is significant, because it speaks to this struggle: More than anything else, Alice wants her family, friends and colleagues to understand that she’s still herself. But there can be no last-minute reprieves: no deus ex machina medical miracles that will pull her back from the brink. Although Glatzer and Westmoreland conclude their film with what could be termed one of Alice’s “last best days,” we understand what is to come.

21: Flawed count

21 (2008) • View trailer for 21
3.5 stars (out of five). Rating: PG-13, for violence, profanity and brief sensuality
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.27.08
Buy DVD: 21 • Buy Blu-Ray: 21 (+ BD Live) [Blu-ray]

This film is as slick, dazzling and superficial as its Las Vegas setting.

Although ostensibly based on the events reported in Ben Mezrich's fascinating book, Bringing Down the House, credulous viewers should be advised that the film's press notes more accurately acknowledge that 21 is inspired by a true story.

When Ben (Jim Sturgess, far left) accepts an invitation for some extracurricular
activities organized by math professor Micky Rosa (Kevin Spacey, far right),
he's astonished to find a blackjack training session already occupied by Vegas
veterans: from left, Fisher (Jacob Pitts), Kianna (Liza Lapira) and Jill (Kate
Bosworth). The goal? Take the casinos for a bundle, thanks to a clever
card-counting scheme.

Which would explain why Peter Steinfeld and Allan Loeb's script eventually devolves into a Hollywood fairy tale, complete with a ludicrous tag scene that certainly gets the intended laugh, even if it couldn't possibly exist in the real world.

(I suspect Steinfeld and Loeb greatly admire 1983's Risky Business, since I detect an echo of Tom Cruise's concluding speech in their protagonist's final words.)

All of which is a shame, because the first act of director Robert Luketic's captivating little drama feels very real-world. Star Jim Sturgess is spot-on as Ben Campbell, a shy, geeky and quite brilliant MIT student whose acceptance to Harvard Medical School — absolutely his, on the basis of academic merit — is in danger of being derailed because he lacks the money to attend. Sturgess is completely persuasive as an honorable individual with his eye on the prize, who simply cannot understand why years of hard work haven't been enough.

Scenes with his mother (Helen Carey) are heartfelt and sweet; companionable exchanges with his two similarly nerdy best friends (Josh Gad and Sam Golzari) are appropriately outcast-ish. The three bookworms — they've been designing a robotic vehicle for the past year, in anticipation of an annual contest — look yearningly at the cooler guys and hot chicks when enjoying a beer or two at the local watering hole, which is as close to being part of the "in crowd" as they're likely to get.

Then Ben catches the attention of charismatic math professor Micky Rosa (Kevin Spacey), who recruits the young man to join his rather unorthodox team of similarly gifted numbers crunchers. Micky and his crew have been taking trips to Vegas for an unspecified amount of time — vague and sloppy details often plague this script — and winning big bucks while playing blackjack with a card-counting scheme.

They're currently short one member, and Micky offers the empty slot to Ben.