tag:theconversation.com,2011:/uk/topics/still-alice-film-14624/articlesStill Alice (film) – The Conversation2015-03-12T06:16:50Ztag:theconversation.com,2011:article/386752015-03-12T06:16:50Z2015-03-12T06:16:50ZFilms like Still Alice are crucial to keeping debate about dementia alive<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/74487/original/image-20150311-24212-14v7wc9.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Lost for words. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Icon Film</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>In the week following the release of Still Alice, the Oscar-winning film about early onset Alzheimer’s, the disease has again made <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-31824055">headlines</a> with the story of Chris Graham, a former soldier who has the disease and is already showing symptoms age 39. He is planning a year long 16,000 mile cycle ride to raise money for Alzheimer’s Research UK. June Andrews <a href="https://theconversation.com/still-alice-is-far-from-a-good-thing-for-dementia-awareness-38007">recently argued in The Conversation</a> that the film is far from a good thing for raising dementia awareness. But in the context of stories like that of Graham, I believe that for all its flaws, Still Alice is commendable: it tells a story that is worth telling.</p>
<p>The film is the fictional tale of Alice Howland, an esteemed 50-year-old US linguistics professor, long and happily married to a senior research physician. They have three adult children; a medic, lawyer and a struggling thespian. When giving a lecture, the word “lexicon”, a linguist’s cornerstone, eludes Alice; later a familiar run becomes a nightmarish fog of formless space, shapes and shadows. A rare hereditary type of Alzheimer’s disease is diagnosed and testing reveals a genetic passing on to the elder, pregnant daughter. </p>
<p>An aggressive disease trajectory then robs Alice of her own metaphorical “lexicon”, her inventory of herself in relation to people, places, objects and happenings. Technology helps for a while; lists, reminders and word games, the setting up of a doomed, future suicide plot. At an Alzheimer’s conference Alice speaks of struggling, not suffering. She asks how others can now take her seriously when she is so far removed from who she used to be, the Alice who “was” an articulate, intelligent wordsmith. She says cancer would be better than being the Alice she has become, a shameful, erratic, comic version of herself. She emphatically declares: “This is not Alice … This is the disease.”</p>
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<p>Julianne Moore’s performance as this arresting, fading and faded Alice deeply unsettles our notions of biography, of our past and future selves. But despite this degeneration, this constant change of sense of self, life is still lived. This is humorously illustrated by younger daughter Lydia who forgives Alice’s intrusive reading of a personal journal because the Alice of the following day will have no memory of yesterday’s transgressive Alice. And this irony of “gone” selves is a shared joke between the two that’s not lost on Alice, for that moment at least. </p>
<p>Articulating these little ironies and quiet moments for the cinema is a real feat. And so despite being a little irritated by the shine and prettiness of this film, it has a place in increasing awareness of the disease. Yes, it’s true that the film fails to engage with much more common tales of living with less rare, wide ranging, dementias in our 70s, 80s and beyond, but we need both of these and more to be explored, and in any way that people will engage with it. </p>
<h2>The wider picture</h2>
<p>In the UK some <a href="http://www.alzheimers.org.uk/site/scripts/documents_info.php?documentID=164">40,000 people under 65</a> have early onset dementia, 5% of all diagnosed cases. So the dementias, including Alzheimer’s disease, are largely diseases of older people. But equally, early onset dementia and its impact on paid work, dependents and others, can be hidden, misunderstood and ill served. Still Alice gets us talking, about this form of the disease, and others. We need the arts and media to open up such public conversations – it is a role they have long played and must continue to do so.</p>
<p>Of course we need to think carefully how this is achieved. As Andrews says, artists and the media in general may feed off current anxieties about dementia. A <a href="http://www.worcester.ac.uk/discover/media-portrayal-of-dementia-could-be-impacting-those-living-with-the-illness-professor-psychology.html">recent study</a> of media reporting of the disease condemns the catastrophic language often used, such as “ticking time bomb”.</p>
<p>Yet the media and arts have also given us rich history of intelligent documentary and fictionalised film on early onset dementia. There was the 1996 short documentary <a href="https://www.academicvideostore.com/video/forget-me-never">Forget Me Never</a>. And Rachel Stace and Rebecca Mellor’s 2002 film <a href="https://www.academicvideostore.com/video/stolen-memories-alzheimers-disease">Stolen Memories</a>, documented ten months in the lives of three people in their 50s living with Alzheimer’s disease. The 2006 Japanese film <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0494640/">Memories of Tomorrow</a>, about a 49-year-old man with Alzheimer’s disease. And Paul Watson’s <a href="http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/releases/78335.php">film</a> won a BAFTA award for documenting 14 years of a couple’s life after one of them was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s at 51.</p>
<p>All these and more have contributed to a growing conversation about the disease, which Still Alice is perhaps the first really public airing of. You need debate, good and bad, to keep the conversation alive.</p>
<p>I am not an expert in dementia but I am a profound believer in the potential good of the arts and media to keep us talking, questioning, challenging. With colleagues I have worked with talented companies such as <a href="http://skimstone.org.uk/">Skimstone Arts</a>, and artists like <a href="http://www.northernwritersawards.com/winner-romi-cat-108.html">Romi Jones</a> and others, to use theatre, film and creative writing to <a href="http://www.artsprofessional.co.uk/magazine/273/case-study/understanding-dementia-through-drama">share research findings</a> about living with dementia.</p>
<p>So Still Alice adds to what has gone before it. I found myself thinking anew about separating out the disease from the person. Ultimately, Alice is still Alice. And that’s worth another conversation.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/38675/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Catherine Bailey does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Still Alice tells a story that is worth telling: any debate is better than none.Catherine Bailey, Senior Research Fellow in Public Health and Wellbeing, Northumbria University, NewcastleLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/380072015-03-09T15:01:40Z2015-03-09T15:01:40ZStill Alice is far from a good thing for dementia awareness<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/74168/original/image-20150309-13546-1w8lh8k.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Julianne Moore won an Oscar for her performance in the film.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Artificial Eye</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3316960/">Still Alice</a> tells the story of a university professor who is diagnosed with an aggressive early-onset dementia. Her intellectual and physical capacity declines cruelly, and it’s certain that she has passed the genetic mutation she inherited on to at least one of her children. Such things happen. I recently met a lawyer like this. All her siblings were affected. Her own children, who were born before anyone knew about the family problem, also tested positive. The children in the movie are almost saintly. Such a reaction might be hoped for, but it’s of course not often the case. The lawyer’s children, for example, were not so well adjusted.</p>
<p>In a routine film review, I’d point out that Julianne Moore gives an exceptional performance and her supporting actors are excellent. The representation of her decline is faultless and sensitive. Touching on genetic testing and the response of descendants in affected families is inspired, the scene in which she addresses an Alzheimer’s conference terrific. </p>
<p>But this is not a normal film, as it’s being widely championed for <a href="http://www.alzheimers.net/2-18-15-still-alice-film-review">raising awareness</a> of this horrible disease. And yes, it could be a great public information film – but only after some key editing. </p>
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<h2>What’s missing?</h2>
<p>You’d need more context, an additional film perhaps about the much more common and familiar population that doesn’t get affected until at least 20 years later than Moore’s character. Dementia is a disease of older people. Old women may not be so photogenic, but at 90 they have more than a <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2235360/Women-over-90-more-likely-to-suffer-dementia-than-men.html">45% chance</a> of having dementia, and a film about that might not be so easy to sell. You’d need a scene explaining the meanings of “dementia” and “Alzheimer’s” which most film makers and journalists wrongly use interchangeably. As it stands, the film only raises awareness of this particularly rare type of Alzheimer’s dementia.</p>
<p>I fully intended to be cynical about Still Alice, but I did cry. But I could tell I was weeping at different points and for different reasons from the rest of the audience in the cinema. </p>
<p>I cried at the banality of the neurologist asking the simple questions to confirm that his patient has dementia. Many patients tell me that it is like being set an exam, which, if you fail, you lose everything – your freedom, your home, your life. It’s not a dignified process when you fail to identify a duck and remember an address. It’s humiliating and though I saw that, I don’t know if others did.</p>
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<h2>Depicting dementia</h2>
<p>A major ethical issue to be addressed is the framing of dementia by writers, artists, the media and even film makers. Does a popular movie about a health issue have moral worth or is it a just another source of cinematic thrill?</p>
<p>Many have argued that the film is a good thing in itself but there is a long tradition of exploiting sickness for dramatic rather than moral purpose. Younger audiences may have missed <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0066011/">Love Story</a>, a film from 1970 where an attractive talented young wife dies tragically of leukaemia. This was a similar plot to the successful and often remade <a href="http://sfopera.com/SanFranciscoOpera/media/SiteAssets/6_Learn/Camille-Synopsis.pdf">The Lady of the Camellias</a>, a 19th century play by Dumas. The untimely death of a lovely woman is inevitably a hit at the box office. </p>
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<p>There are films that get around this sticky issue. Cortex, a 2008 film about ageing and dementia from the point of view of the protagonist who may have dementia, is one such example. <a href="http://dementia.stir.ac.uk/blogs/diametric/2014-08-31/murder-he-thought-investigating-nicolas-boukhriefs-cortex">Tom Christie’s review</a> of the film saw it as able to shake the audience through its evocation of “insecurity, anger and fear”. This intriguing mystery presents a marked contrast to the emotional wringer that Still Alice puts one through. </p>
<p><a href="http://dementia.stir.ac.uk/blogs/diametric/2014-12-07/dementia-media-trends-2014">The DIAMetric blog</a> does regular reviews of how dementia is framed in the news media, showing how misleading most of the frames are, and how manipulative. The <a href="http://festivalofideas.org.uk">Dementia Festival of Ideas</a> is exploring what difference arts and media actually make to the public perception of dementia and whether an active role in that is even appropriate. In 2012 a <a href="http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0277953612001037">paper</a> from Belgium precipitated much of this discussion of how controllers of media reinforce the stigmatisation of dementia. So these questions are prevalent, but have failed to enter the Still Alice debate.</p>
<p>There are questions about extent to which the artists are cynically feeding off current anxieties about dementia. We need to ask if it has a proper role in “raising awareness” and how that’s monitored. Who said that working age dementia should be the big-ticket topic for this year? Or was it just a cynical reworking of an old story, with a modern twist now that we better manage TB and leukaemia? </p>
<p>There was a time in dementia care where any move to raise awareness was better than nothing. But now, rather than being grateful for public awareness, we need to be more questioning of the effect of random publicity and fiction. There is great potential for unintended negative consequences. It is only a matter of time before the circus moves on and compassion fatigue about dementia takes over.</p>
<p><a href="http://juneandrews.net/the-book.php">Sensible information</a> in plain language is increasingly available, subsidised by charities and donations. We can’t afford to be muddled by Hollywood about what the big problem really is, although personal tragedy always wins more artistic prizes.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/38007/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>June Andrews does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The film, widely championed for raising awareness about the disease, misses some key elements.June Andrews, Professor of Dementia Studies, University of StirlingLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/367572015-01-28T19:23:39Z2015-01-28T19:23:39ZStill Alice, and the advocacy for Alzheimer’s in fiction<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/70247/original/image-20150128-22322-fst1dy.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Julianne Moore's star turn in Still Alice provides a lesson in understanding neurodegenerative diseases.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Icon Film</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Still Alice – starring Julianne Moore – tells the story of Alice Howland, a linguistics professor diagnosed with a form of early-onset Alzheimer’s Disease. Moore has already netted a Golden Globe and is clear favourite for a well-deserved Best Actress Oscar next month. </p>
<p>The novel on which the film is based is one of a clutch of debuts in recent years to explore forms of neurodegenerative disease. So what role does fiction play in our understanding, and acceptance, of dementia?</p>
<p>Still Alice is a close adaptation of <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2153405.Still_Alice?from_search=true">Lisa Genova’s debut novel</a>. A Harvard trained neuroscientist, Genova initially self-published Still Alice in 2007 after <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/28/books/28selfpub.html?pagewanted=2&_r=0&ref=business">failing to pique the interest</a> of agents and publishers. But within two years word-of-mouth sales led to republication and New York Times bestseller status. </p>
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<p>The film has received wide praise, although <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2014/oct/14/still-alice-alzheimers-julianne-moore">some critics have grumbled</a> over the heavy-handed tragic irony. An early scene features Alice forgetting the word “lexicon” during a lecture, an implication that arguably “perpetuates the notion that dementia is more tragic when it affects the intellectual”. </p>
<p>Others suggest the film may be overly “<a href="http://www.bbc.com/culture/story/20150123-still-alice-truly-oscar-worthy">pristine</a>” and “<a href="http://www.thestar.com/entertainment/movies/2015/01/22/still-alices-julianne-moore-is-exceptional-as-woman-with-alzheimers-review.html">shies away from taking risks</a>”, while also not being plausibly representative of the typical experience of dementia in choosing to focus on an “<a href="http://www.salon.com/2015/01/14/still_alice_julianne_moores_brilliant_if_bogus_oscar_vehicle/">almost perfect … privileged family</a>”. </p>
<p>However the novel and film steer clear of subtlety, and for good reasons. The narrative is infused with an earnest urgency in looking to advocate for those living with dementia – and the Alzheimer’s Association is <a href="https://mybrain.alz.org/still-alice.asp">most certainly on board</a>. </p>
<p>Typical popular accounts of neurodegenerative disease focus overwhelmingly on the latter stages, along with the burdens placed on families and carers. </p>
<p>Of course these are incredibly important issues that rightly deserve wide coverage and public discussion; to suggest otherwise would be abhorrent. But advocates have <a href="http://www.alz.org/i-have-alz/overcoming-stigma.asp">noted</a> that this popular focus – well-intentioned though it may be – may inadvertently colour our understandings and subsequent interactions with those in early to mid stages of disease progression. </p>
<p>This can tragically and needlessly impose stigmas that hasten alienation and loss of social engagement. </p>
<p>Genova has stated in a post-script to a later edition of the book that her overarching purpose was to provide an unsentimental presentation of early onset Alzheimer’s Disease but also to complement this with an ideal diagnosis and support process. Genova aimed to demonstrate by way of fiction that there is much more we can do as a collective to help those living with dementia.</p>
<p>The film, especially, stresses that societal attitude to those living with dementia needs adjustment. Alice states soon after her symptoms become pronounced: “I wish I had cancer … then I wouldn’t feel so ashamed.” Later the film’s call-to-arms is a speech given by Alice to a gathering of the Alzheimer’s Association where she rails against perceptions of being “incapable, ridiculous, comic”.</p>
<p>The call for more dementia-friendly communities has been a significant focus of recent advocacy campaigns. Though research into clinical interventions continues, breakthroughs remain elusive while rates of prevalence are<a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/19595937"> set to grow</a> rapidly across the globe.</p>
<p>Advocacy groups have sought to make communities more amenable to those living with dementia, in part through awareness campaigns like this powerful one from Alzheimer’s Australia:</p>
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<p>If Still Alice is a quite direct take on living with dementia, Fiona McFarlane’s <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17332361-the-night-guest">The Night Guest</a> (2013) and Emma Healey’s <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18635113-elizabeth-is-missing?from_search=true">Elizabeth is Missing</a> (2014) are two stunning examples of richly rendered explorations of dementia.</p>
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<p>Promotional buzz around those two novels has played up their twists on genre: Elizabeth is Missing as mystery and The Night Guest as psychological thriller. Understandably this may raise concerns regarding the potential for exploiting serious conditions to enliven matters of less import. </p>
<p>Fiction-as-advocacy can be counterproductive if sensitive and complex issues are not addressed with due care but are instead used as convenient plot devices.</p>
<p>Fortunately this is not the case in either novel as the broad genre forms are deployed cautiously in the service of thoughtfully illuminating the subjectivity of dementia. Like Still Alice, these two novels adopt a point of view rooted almost exclusively to the person living with dementia, a perspective relatively rare in such accounts, fictional or otherwise.</p>
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<p>Both books have a sometimes light humour, albeit carefully directed. This humour is often found where mutual good intentions go comically awry, such as when Healey’s protagonist Maud attempts to place a classifieds advertisement in order to help find her “missing” friend Elizabeth, whom the receptionist initially assumes is a cat. </p>
<p>This comic relief comes through in witnessing both characters striving to do the right thing and exhibiting patience and kindness despite mutual confusion. </p>
<p>Matthew Thomas’ <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17830123-we-are-not-ourselves?from_search=true">We Are Not Ourselves</a> (2014) adopts a more conventional route in (mostly) taking the perspective of the primary caregiver (Eileen) rather than the character living with dementia (Ed). It is by far the most harrowing of the novels mentioned here, following the progression of Ed’s disease in its entirety. </p>
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<p>Thomas’ approach is one of unsparing sincerity, and in contrast to Still Alice glosses over nothing. Several scenes are devastating, particularly those that explore the intimate aspects of married life while living with dementia. </p>
<p>Nevertheless, like the aforementioned works, Thomas wants to emphasise the affective capacities that are retained. Ed’s scenes with his son are life-affirming in their urgency to communicate deep-feeling. </p>
<p>All these debuts are remarkably different, all are critically acclaimed. For those looking for a shorter but no less compelling entry into fiction that explores dementia one place to start is with <a href="http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2013/10/21/the-bear-came-over-the-mountain-2">Alice Munro’s short story</a> The Bear Came Over the Mountain. </p>
<p>While we hope for clinical breakthroughs, thoughtful and considered fiction can serve as one (of many) forms of advocacy to help those living with dementia.</p>
<p><br>
<em>Still Alice is released in Australian cinemas today.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/36757/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Matthew Wade does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Still Alice – starring Julianne Moore – tells the story of Alice Howland, a linguistics professor diagnosed with a form of early-onset Alzheimer’s Disease. Moore has already netted a Golden Globe and is…Matthew Wade, PhD Student in Sociology, Australian National UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/364212015-01-28T19:23:32Z2015-01-28T19:23:32ZStill Alice: a rare look at how dementia steals memories from millions<p>For many of us, memories are our most precious possessions; they makes us the people we are. Consider how you would feel then if your memories were stripped from you, as they are from people diagnosed with dementia. This is exactly what happens to the central character of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3316960/">Still Alice</a>, a film opening today nationally.</p>
<p>Directed by Wash Westmoreland and Richard Glatzer, the film is based on the <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2153405.Still_Alice">eponymous novel by Lisa Genova</a>. Julianne Moore has been tipped to win the Best Actress Oscar for her portrayal of Alice Howland, a distinguished linguistics professor at Columbia University.</p>
<p>Still Alice captures the emotional upheaval that results from a diagnosis of dementia and provides a compelling insight into the world of people living with the condition. </p>
<h2>The shock of diagnosis</h2>
<p>When the film opens, Alice Howland appears to have it all. At 50 years of age, she is the picture of elegance and good health, exercising frequently, cooking elaborate meals and maintaining a world-class academic career as well as a happy family life.</p>
<p>But it quickly becomes clear that Alice’s memory is failing. Fleeting moments of disorientation and confusion begin to punctuate her life. Wondering if she has a brain tumour, Alice consults a neurologist only to find she is in the early stages of Alzheimer’s disease.</p>
<p>Current estimates suggest approximately 7.7 million new cases of dementia are diagnosed worldwide each year. The disease typically evokes images of the frail elderly, but younger-onset dementia, which is what affects Alice, strikes people under the age of 65. </p>
<p>Estimates suggest younger-onset dementia affects <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2947856/">approximately 54 in every 100,000 people</a> aged between 30 and 65 across the population. There are now even calls for care facilities to adapt so they can cater for these often physically healthy people. </p>
<p>The diagnosis of dementia affects Alice and her family in profound and different ways. The implications of Alice’s condition dawn on her husband as he begins to comprehend the care she will need. Her children move from shock to sadness and, ultimately, fear as they grapple with the decision to undergo genetic testing for Alzheimer’s disease.</p>
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<p>A fifth of <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK1236/">younger-onset Alzheimer’s disease</a> is familial, meaning there is a genetic cause for the condition. Currently, we have genetic tests for three causative genes – presenilin 1 and 2 and amyloid precursor protein (APP). If someone has one of these genetic mutations, they will usually show clinical signs of dementia before the age of 65 years, and have a 50% risk of passing the gene on to their children. </p>
<h2>A rare glimpse</h2>
<p>Alzheimer’s disease was first described and named in the early 1900s; its causative proteins (amyloid and tau) were described in the 1980s. There’s no cure for the disease, but there are a few treatments that slow disease progression. And diagnosis is often met with stigma and embarrassment. </p>
<p>The film provides a glimpse of the daily struggles of people living with younger-onset Alzheimer’s disease. In a poignant scene, Alice says she wishes she had been diagnosed with cancer, as there would be less stigma and more support for her and her family. </p>
<p>Until recently, most research (and funding) was focused on medical conditions, such as cancer, which cause many deaths. But with the growing awareness of our ageing population, research money is now targeting Alzheimer’s disease and other neurodegenerative conditions.</p>
<p>The idea of suicide is also raised as Alice plans to end her life when she can no longer answer basic questions about herself. <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/12145457">Research shows</a> that suicide attempts are not uncommon among people with Alzheimer’s disease.</p>
<p>Alice remains eloquent and insightful throughout her struggles, most notably when she delivers a powerful speech at the Alzheimer’s Association carers’ meeting. The scene is particularly moving as the thoughts, feelings and wishes of individuals living with dementia are rarely articulated in this manner. It is a powerful reminder that people with dementia still retain hopes, dreams and wishes for the future. </p>
<p>Still Alice is a poignant window on the world of the millions of people living with Alzheimer’s disease. It’s an important reminder for society as a whole of our responsibility to plan for and manage this rapidly growing condition.</p>
<p>For those of us working in the field of dementia research, the film is a sobering reminder of why we entered this speciality area, and serves as powerful motivation in our quest for an eventual cure.</p>
<p><em>Still Alice opens in Australian cinemas nationally on January 29.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/36421/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Muireann Irish receives funding from the Australian Research Council and is a previous grant recipient from Alzheimer's Australia. She is an Associate Investigator in the Australian Research Council Centre of Excellence in Cognition and its Disorders.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Rebekah Ahmed receives funding from the Royal Australian College of Physicians and MND Research Australia.</span></em></p>For many of us, memories are our most precious possessions; they makes us the people we are. Consider how you would feel then if your memories were stripped from you, as they are from people diagnosed…Muireann Irish, Senior Research Officer, Neuroscience Research AustraliaRebekah Ahmed, Consultant neurologist & PhD student, Neuroscience Research AustraliaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.