Film Review: Still Alice

Still Alice is a film based on a novel of the same title by Lisa Genova. According to her Amazon page:

Lisa Genova is the author of the New York Times bestsellers Still Alice, Left Neglected, Love Anthony, and Inside the O'Briens. Lisa graduated valedictorian from Bates College with a degree in biopsychology and holds a PhD in neuroscience from Harvard University. She travels worldwide speaking about Alzheimer's Disease, traumatic brain injury, and autism. She lives with her family in Massachusetts.

At least from the professional point of view, the book and subsequently the film, seem to have an element of autobiography. I have not yet had the opportunity to read the novel, so cannot really consider the film in the light of the book.

If you haven't seen the film yet, beware - the review that follows includes some key plot spoilers.

When Zero and I saw it yesterday, representatives of the film makers were asking viewers of the film to fill out response questionnaires after the film. I do not know if this is a common practice, but it is the first time I have encountered it. So far as I could tell, the response rate was very high, and cinema goers seemed to be taking considerable care over their responses. The film review at SIGNIS captures something of the kind of sense as you see this film (and I do think it is a film to see at the cinema rather than at home):

It was extraordinary the silence in the cinema as people, we together, watched Still Alice. What were we thinking, what were we feeling? Were we identifying with Alice personally, the early onset of Alzheimer’s disease, the fact that she was only 50, that she was a world-class academic and expert on linguistics and was suffering deterioration in her deepest talent? Were we thinking about relatives or friends with Alzheimer’s, trying to appreciate the condition, their feelings? Had we had some experience of care for a person with Alzheimer’s or was this a prospect to come? Watching the film was certainly a personal, sad, even draining experience.   

There is an aspect of the experience of Alzheimer's shown in the film that it is easy to miss. The experience being portrayed is not that of someone now in their 80's or 90's, whose early life memories would reach back to the 1930's and 1940's, when the lap top computer would have been beyond imagination. Instead, it is the experience of someone who has been young in our own lifetimes, an experience likely to be ours of the future, rather than the experience of the older generation of today. It would be interesting, too, to reflect on whether a similar film made in an attempt to portray the experience of a man would show a significantly different experience. I suspect that it might.

I may have missed them, but I was struck by the way in which the film did not seem to portray the strategies that a family or friends might use when living with and helping to support an Alzheimer's sufferer.

In focussing on the figure of Alice, one can lose sight of the experience of family members and professional colleagues that is shown in the film. A scene where Alice's department head reads the negative feedback from students who have been attending her lectures, and only then learns of her Alzheimer's, though the students have been adversely affected by it for all of the preceding semester, is telling in this regard. The impact on family members is portrayed at different points throughout the film, though it is useful to consciously notice it rather than just seeing it as part of the narrative of Alice's experience. At the level of the acting performances, a similar comment can be made. Julianne Moore's Oscar winning performance as Alice is framed by outstanding performances from Kristen Steward, Alex Baldwin and Kate Bosworth.

Still Alice is full of moving moments. The scene where Alice and John tell their children that Alice has Alzheimer's, and that it is a hereditary form comes first. Both within the narrative of the film and in the mind of the viewer, it is a scene that asks the question: how do we cope with looking forward to possibly struggling with Alzheimer's later in our lives? This foreknowledge is perhaps part of the experience of our generation in a way that was not true for earlier generations.

A second key scene is where Alice speaks to a conference of Alzheimer's care givers. The speech in this section of the film represents a kind of manifesto in favour of those who struggle with Alzheimer's - "struggle" being the word chosen rather than "suffer". Part of that speech features in the end of the trailer that can be found embedded in the Telegraph online review. I was particularly struck by Alice's choice to talk about struggling with slowly losing everything that had previously been part of her life and of her connection to life around her (this is why I think this is a film to see with others in a cinema rather than in isolation on a small screen).

Next is the scene where Alice's daughter asks her to describe what it feels like and Alice, in a moment of lucidity, does so.

And the final scene where, after her daughter has read to her a long passage, Alice responds to the daughter's asking that "It's about love" (it wasn't). Since this comes after the daughter has returned home to care for her mother, it is very poignant.

Without giving an answer either way, the film asks whether it would be better for someone to die rather than struggle with Alzheimer's. At a relatively early point in the film, Alice says to her husband that she would rather have cancer than Alzheimer's, with the husband replying "Don't say that". Alice also records a movie on her laptop giving instructions about how to take an overdose once she has reached the point where she cannot remember her family. In an intensely dramatic moment, she later accidentally opens this movie and starts to follow its instructions (her memory is so impaired that she has to take the laptop upstairs to the bedroom cabinet in order to follow the instructions one at a time). The arrival of her carer at the last minute saves Alice's life. And shortly before the end of the film, Alice is asked by her husband in an ice cream parlour whether or not she still wants to be here. At this point, Alice can only understand the question in terms of the ice cream parlour, and the fact that she has not yet finished her ice cream - very sad but also very informative of the possibility of consent to assisted suicide at that point in the disease.

It is a film to see, but do take tissues.

Immigration, Human Rights and the General Election

In their letter to Catholics ahead of the General Election, the Bishops Conference of England and Wales observe that:

We support policies which fairly regulate immigration and uphold the human rights of all, recognising the rights, dignity and protection of refugees and migrants.

Speaking today on BBC television, Cardinal Vincent Nichols has urged that the people who are at the centre of the debate about migration - those seeking to cross the Mediterranean to enter Europe, those desperate to cross the Channel from Calais into the UK - be recognised and treated as persons:

"But what I want to say is these are people we're talking about - the people who drown in the Mediterranean trying to get into Europe, the people caged in Calais because they're desperate. We have to somehow keep the human person at the front of all these issues..."

It is well that we remind ourselves of the obligations that Britain has, not only arising from its membership of the European Union, but arising from its commitment to United Nations protocols. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights, for example, expresses a right for all people to be recognised everywhere as a person before the law and as having a right to seek asylum in a country other than their own to escape persecution. The UN Convention and Protocol relating to the Status of Refugees also specifies the different aspects of a general obligation that refugees should be treated equally with nationals or with other foreign persons living in a country of refuge.

It is true to say that these obligations arise under the condition that a refugee resides legally in their host country. But equally one can ask whether the nations of the European Union, collectively and individually, are really willing to recognise that those seeking to enter their countries have a right to be recognised as refugees. Are these countries preventing people who should rightfully be allowed legal residence as refugees from entry, and therefore giving rise to their illegal entry? Are they, in effect, being denied any recognition as persons before the law, whose access as refugees to a country should be given full consideration?

As Cardinal Nichols observed, we have to somehow keep the human person at the forefront of these issues.

The Year of Consecrated Life (5): consecrated life "in the world"?

Fr Christian de Cherge was the prior of the Cistercian monastery at Tibhirine in the Atlas Mountains of Algeria, whose community were martyred by people who would now be known as "Islamist extremists". The monks had remained in Algeria at a time when it was dangerous for them to do so. Within the village of Tibhirine, they enjoyed good relations with their Muslim neighbours, among other actions providing a pharmacy/clinic at which one of the monks provided medical care to all comers. A brief account of the aspect of inter-religious dialogue in Fr de Cherge's life can be found here; and the Testament that he wrote, in view of his death, and which was opened only after his death, can be downloaded from this page. In Christian Salenson's study of the thought of Fr de Cherge - Christian de Cherge: Une theologie de L'Esperance - there is a chapter which considers prayer in the context of inter-religious dialogue, particularly dialogue between Christians and Muslims, and in the context of the life of the particular community at Tibhirine. The chapter is entitled "Priants parmi d'autres priants" - "Those who pray among others who pray" - referring to a monastic life lived in a Muslim milieu. At a time when the community was at considerable risk, this term came to define for the monks the specificity of their vocation in the particular location of Tibhirine, and part of their reason for staying rather than leaving. One cannot fail to see a parallel between the liturgical times of prayer in the monastery and the times of prayer among the Muslim community living "in the world" around the monastery.

In a not dissimilar vein, I have for some time been attracted by an observation made in the opening sentences of the Preface to Louis Bouyer's book The Meaning of the Monastic Life:

The purpose of this book is primarily to point out to monks that their vocation in the Church is not, and never has been, a special vocation. The vocation of the monk is, but is no more than, the vocation of the baptized man. But it is the vocation of the baptized man carried, I would say, to the farthest limits of its irresistible demands.

Fr Bouyer was writing at the request of a community of monks - hence his non-inclusive language - so I think we can safely extend the intention of his words to nuns and lay women, too. If his observation is correct, then it indicates, not so much the monastic life as such, but at least a form of consecrated life akin to it, as a way in which the lay person might live the vocation of their baptism "to the farthest limits of its irresistible demands".

The lesson that we might take from the experience of Fr de Cherge and the monks of Tibhirine is that, just as the monastery at Tibherine existed as a place of prayer among a people of prayer in a Muslim milieu, so, in a Christian milieu, a monastery should exist among a people who pray. In the context of the Year for Consecrated Life, it suggests that we should look for consecrated life to be lived, not only in the seclusion of the monastery, but also out and about in the life of Christians "in the world".

And from Fr Bouyer we might take the lesson that the living of a Christian life "in the world" should carry with it the same radicalness of response to the demands represented by the call of the Lord as does the response of the monk, a radicalness represented by the vows characteristic of consecrated life.

The Barque of St Peter

..... doesn't have any lifeboats.

 

Just a thought....

.... for the "faithful Catholics"....

.... for the fierce "defenders of the faith" .... 

.... for those who know better than Pope Francis (and Pope Benedict and Pope John Paul II and Pope ... you get the idea...), and cannot stop from telling us so ....

.... and who are in danger of falling overboard as a result of their own pig-headedness.

There is more than one way to climb aboard, though ....

 

 

 

.... and we might all have need of one or other of them at some point.

Pope Francis and Ecumenism of Blood

I have been very interested in Pope Francis' recent use of the term "ecumenism of blood".

When he spoke to leaders of Christian communities during his visit to Cologne for World Youth Day in 2005, it was Pope Benedict's suggestion that we should not take so much for granted the commonality of witness, founded in Baptism, that struck me:

I feel the fact that we consider one another brothers and sisters, that we love one another, that together we are witnesses of Jesus Christ, should not be taken so much for granted. I believe that this brotherhood is in itself a very important fruit of dialogue that we must rejoice in, continue to foster and to practice.

Among Christians, fraternity is not just a vague sentiment, nor is it a sign of indifference to truth. As you just said, Bishop, it is grounded in the supernatural reality of the one Baptism which makes us all members of the one Body of Christ (cf. I Cor 12: 13; Gal 3: 28; Col 2: 12).

Together we confess that Jesus Christ is God and Lord; together we acknowledge him as the one mediator between God and man (cf. I Tm 2: 5), and we emphasize that together we are members of his Body (cf. Unitatis Redintegratio, n. 22; Ut Unum Sint, n. 42).

Based on this essential foundation of Baptism, a reality comes from him which is a way of being, then of professing, believing and acting. Based on this crucial foundation, dialogue has borne its fruits and will continue to do so.

And I have long been struck by a perhaps little known passage from Pope John Paul II's Encyclical Ut Unum sint (n.84). That passage suggests that, at the moment of martyrdom, Christian unity is lived in its fullness. It has opened up, to my thinking at least, the possibility that Christian martyrs from communities other than the Catholic Church can be recognised as saints by the Catholic Church:

I have already remarked, and with deep joy, how an imperfect but real communion is preserved and is growing at many levels of ecclesial life. I now add that this communion is already perfect in what we all consider the highest point of the life of grace, martyria unto death, the truest communion possible with Christ who shed his Blood, and by that sacrifice brings near those who once were far off (cf. Eph 2:13).

So when Pope Francis speaks of an "ecumenism of blood", as he has done again today, he draws our attention to the profoundly ecumenical implication of the martyrdoms that have been experienced in recent days and months. All Christians, irrespective of denomination or Church adherence, are living these martyrdoms as a shared, a common experience. Pope Francis' words remind those of us who are at a physical distance from these events that we too should live them in the same way. They also say to the Christian communities most immediately affected that we too share in their suffering.

Today I have read about the execution of those twenty-one or twenty-two Coptic Christians. They said only: 'Jesus, help me'. They were assassinated for the mere fact of being Christians. You, Brother, in your discourse, referred to what is happening in Jesus' land. The blood of our Christian brothers is a testimony that calls to us. Regardless of whether they are Catholic, Orthodox, Coptic, Lutherans – this does not matter, they are Christians. And blood is the same. Their blood confesses Christ. In remembrance of these brothers of ours who have died for the mere fact of confessing Christ, I ask that we encourage each other to go ahead with this ecumenism, that is giving us strength, this ecumenism of blood. The martyrs are all Christians. Let us all pray for each other”.

To suggest that Pope Francis' words "hijack people's deaths for [an agenda]" misrepresents the Holy Father's words entirely, and does so in a most crass and ill-informed way.

A sacrament for everyone?

Many of the Catholic faithful - certainly if my experience of Catholic life in England and Wales is anything to go by - could be forgiven for thinking that the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick is a sacrament intended to be received by any Catholic whatever their circumstances. This misunderstanding is driven by the practice that will no doubt be seen in many parishes tomorrow of Father inviting anyone who wishes to receive the sacrament to do so, without any discernment as to their individual situations.

The Feast of Our Lady of Lourdes, the annual World Day of Prayer for the Sick, is certainly an appropriate occasion to administer the sacrament - for those for whom it is appropriate.

So, who is the sacrament of Anointing intended for? According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church n.1514:

The Anointing of the Sick "is not a sacrament for those only who are at the point of death. Hence, as soon as anyone of the faithful begins to be in danger of death from sickness or old age, the fitting time for him to receive this sacrament has certainly already arrived."

This is qualified in the Code of Canon Law c.1005 by the indication that, in case of doubt, the sacrament should be conferred:

This sacrament is to be administered in a case of doubt whether the sick person has attained the use of reason, is dangerously ill, or is dead.

The Catechism also indicates that it is appropriate to repeat the sacrament if, during an illness a person's condition becomes more serious, or in the case of frailty due to old age that frailty becomes more pronounced, or a person is about to undergo a serious operation.

All of this certainly indicates that a priest should be generous in his interpretation as to when the conditions for receiving the sacrament are met; and for those who suffer a chronic or long lasting illness, that occasions such as the World Day of Prayer for the Sick are an appropriate moment for them to receive the sacrament again.

But it does not justify the practice of anointing all and sundry (and justifying that practice, when justification is offered, on the grounds that "everyone is spiritually sick if they are not physically sick" - a superficial argument if ever there was one).

Pastorally, this question does matter. How can we expect those who are dangerously ill to truly value the sacrament at the point of their serious illness if they have passed a life time of Catholic practice seeing the sacrament being offered to everyone regardless of their being sick or not?

It is interesting, by way of conclusion, to read what the Catechism has to say about the effects of the celebration of the sacrament (Catechism of the Catholic Church nn.1250 - 1523). These effects are offered under three headings:

A particular gift of the Holy Spirit..... This assistance from the Lord by the power of his Spirit is meant to lead the sick person to healing of the soul, but also of the body if such is God's will.¹³⁵ Furthermore, "if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven".

An ecclesial grace. The sick who receive this sacrament, "by freely uniting themselves to the passion and death of Christ," "contribute to the good of the People of God".... 

A preparation for the final journey. If the sacrament of anointing of the sick is given to all who suffer from serious illness and infirmity, even more rightly is it given to those at the point of departing this life; so it is also called sacramentum exeuntium (the sacrament of those departing). The Anointing of the Sick completes our conformity to the death and Resurrection of Christ, just as Baptism began it. It completes the holy anointings that mark the whole Christian life: that of Baptism which sealed the new life in us, and that of Confirmation which strengthened us for the combat of this life. This last anointing fortifies the end of our earthly life like a solid rampart for the final struggles before entering the Father's house. 

Though it is less relevant to the circumstances in which the sacrament of Anointing of the Sick will be conferred tomorrow, this last consideration is perhaps somewhat neglected in our present practice of the sacrament. It offers a certain "hermeneutic of continuity" with the earlier understanding of the sacrament as described here by Fr Tim: The wonderful sacrament of anointing the sick:

So it is a wonderful thing to be called out to visit people who may have neglected the practice of their faith, yet have identified themselves as Catholic and can be assumed to have at least some habitual desire for the sacraments, and as a priest, to minister the sacrament of anointing and the Apostolic blessing with the plenary indulgence, and know that they have been helped on a fast track to heaven.

Or, at a time when I was a lay pastoral visitor in a hospital, to offer a referral for a visit from a Catholic priest that would have provided the occasion for such a "wonderful thing".

Mitochondrial DNA transfer

As I drove home yesterday with the radio on in the car, I heard Andrew Miller, the Labour MP who chairs the Parliamentary Select Committee on Science and Technology and who has a well known parliamentary engagement with questions of science and technology, observe that, in respect of the vote in favour of three-parent IVF by the House of Commons:

"Scientific evidence triumphed over belief".

That comment gains some context from part of  his contribution during the Parliamentary debate itself:

The ethical basis on which science is conducted in this country is world leading. The hon. Gentleman is right to say that we should be immensely proud of the successes—again—of our scientific community in a range of life science disciplines....

We are in a society where people are entitled to have their beliefs, and I respect those beliefs; everyone should be entitled to express their opinion. But this is about focusing on the needs of that small part of the population that I mentioned. I urge the House, in coming to a conclusion this afternoon, to think about those families, to focus on their needs and to set aside general beliefs in the overwhelming interest of that small part of the population who have suffered immensely and who have an opportunity at their disposal because of the extraordinary science that has been advanced. 

[In parentheses, The BBC News website also reports, under the headline MPs say yes to three person babies views like the following:

Proponents said the backing was "good news for progressive medicine".

"This is world leading science within a highly respected regulatory regime." (Public Health Minister Jane Ellison )] 

I am clearly citing only two dimensions within yesterday's debate in Parliament, but they do strike me as being a very worrying dimensions. The first represents what one might call a "scientific ambition", in which, for some at least, the wish to go ahead with the techniques of mitochondrial DNA transfer is informed and/or motivated by a sense of pride in UK science. That references are made by two  Parliamentarians with particular prominence in the field of health and science to "world leading science" and "extraordinary science" when, for the families involved, the question at stake is not the status of the science as science but rather the efficacy of the science as a treatment, seems to me to have been exceptionally misguided.

The second dimension is the way in which Andrew Miller refers to "beliefs" as if they should be of no account in the debate. He indicates his respect for the beliefs that others hold, but then goes on to say that those "general beliefs" should be set aside. "Beliefs" can be respected; but they should not be allowed to influence the outcome of the debate or of the practice of science and medicine that will be consequent upon that outcome. It is, of course, an exaltation of the knowledge that is gained by scientific study over and above that knowledge that is gained through other fields of study - scientism. In so far as Andrew Miller's position has any ethical content, it is simply that of consequences that are expected to be positive in the respect of offspring born to the families affected - consequentialism. That in itself represents an ethical "belief"; but other ethical methodologies that examine what is right or wrong from an understanding of persons and the good of persons and might come to a different conclusion than a consequentialist approach are to be set aside.

Just as Andrew Miller believes his own belief - in scientific evidence - should be allowed a play in society, so should the different belief of others also be allowed a play. That is the quintessential British value of democracy (though I would suggest that its value does not arise from anything British but from the nature of democracy itself). And to play off scientific evidence against ethical or religious belief as if they conflict is also wrong. Reason, of which scientific endeavour forms a dimension, and what Andrew Miller denotes by the word "belief" should go alongside each other in the search for what is morally right.

When Pope Benedict XVI spoke in Westminster Hall, within the same precincts in which yesterday's debate took place, he observed:

The central question at issue, then, is this: where is the ethical foundation for political choices to be found? The Catholic tradition maintains that the objective norms governing right action are accessible to reason, prescinding from the content of revelation. According to this understanding, the role of religion in political debate is not so much to supply these norms, as if they could not be known by non-believers – still less to propose concrete political solutions, which would lie altogether outside the competence of religion – but rather to help purify and shed light upon the application of reason to the discovery of objective moral principles....

Religion (is) .... a vital contributor to the national conversation....

I would invite all of you, therefore, within your respective spheres of influence, to seek ways of promoting and encouraging dialogue between faith and reason at every level of national life. 

Perhaps Andrew Miller might like to take note.