IRIS (***½)
If there is one thing I fear more than the loss of my life, it's the loss of my mind. Death is inevitable, but when one loses the very thing that makes him/her alive and human, yet continuing to breathe, it must be pure torture, both for those going through the pain, and those closest to them. I fear Alzheimer's Disease more than any other. It not only causes the loss of memory, but of logic, reason, and perception. It must be like being trapped in a labyrinth of your thoughts, not knowing how to tie things together. For me, there is no more frightening aspect.
IRIS is the story of the last days of Iris Murdoch (Judi Dench of SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE), who is considered one of the world's most exceptional of contemporary writers and thinkers. Though I have never read her work, her name rings prominently in literary circles. The film is based on the book "A Memoir and Elegy for Iris" by her husband, John Bayley (Jim Broadbent of MOULIN ROUGE), one of the world's foremost literary critics. It contrasts her last days with her first moments with the young John (Hugh Bonneville of NOTTING HILL) and shows the immense disparity in her vibrant, non-conformist (almost decadent), and strong youth (played by Kate Winslet of TITANIC), with her fragile, despondent, and yet somewhat mirthful decline with Alzheimer's.
To call this film sad would be an understatement. It is absolutely heartbreaking. I tried to recall since when I had left a theatre with such a heavy heart, and I remembered Isao Takahata's GRAVE OF THE FIREFLIES and Wayne Wang's THE JOY LUCK CLUB. Watching Iris go through Alzheimer's progression draws so much pity and sorrow, that it becomes, in a way, cruel. But we must realize that this is a husband's story about the loss of his beloved, as seeing a favorite flower steadily wilt away the seasons pass (how aptly titled the film is). It's a work where someone wants to share his grief with us, to see how beautiful his Iris is in his eyes.
Rarely will you see a film so beautifully layered in terms of its scope. It is one of the best love stories I have ever seen. A lot of romantic films we see today give us young beautiful couples who try and overcome silly circumstances to stay together, as they say... forever. I'm sure all of us would like to be involved with an attractive partner. But when rough times come (and I mean really rough times), would we be able to persevere? In Iris, the young John Bayley worships his dearest for her mind and spirit, even in old age. But when she starts to fade, he is desperate for her to hold on to her "self". In their life together, he has looked up to her, but when it comes time for her to depend on him for dear to survive, he struggles in denial and helplessness. In one of the film's most heartrending scenes, he screams at her for her condition in frustration ("I'm left with you! I hate you!"), even when she can barely understand what is going on.
On another level, IRIS is also one of the most thoughtful and insightful films on sickness that I have ever seen. Watching Judi Dench portray Iris, I was reminded of Tom Hanks in PHILADELPHIA, Robert De Niro in AWAKENINGS, and Aaron Jackson in LORENZO'S OIL. All of these movies have two things in common. One is an unmistakable clarity in how their subject diseases work. And more importantly, a character who plays a patient who we can completely understand and understand, through their situations and performances. Until I saw this picture, I didn't really realize that Alzheimer's could affect thought-processes beyond that of memory (even extending to bodily functions). At it's first stages, Iris cannot even pronounce simple words, or correlate images with ideas. Soon she cannot write and begins to wander aimlessly in the streets.
If you noticed my mentioning of Jim Broadbent in MOULIN ROUGE and can't seem to place him in that movie, he played the Moulin Rouge's master of ceremonies in Harold Zidler. His work here is evidence of his immense talent. There, he displayed a manic pomposity, while here in seems so meek and delicate, almost like an old fool. Both these performances are at opposite ends of the spectrum, yet he plays both with such depth. I didn't think he should've won the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor (Ben Kingsley of SEXY BEAST was robbed), but after seeing IRIS, I have no complaints (maybe he won for both performances?). You can't help but feel sorry for his character's loss and despair.
She didn't have the wittiest script, the emotional outbursts, or the hardest task, but of all the Oscar nominees for Best Actress, Judi Dench's character was the one I cared for the most. Her rendering of Iris Murdoch is totally absorbing, and is an example of how an actor's status can elevate a story. She is undeniably one of the world's best actresses (she won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress in SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE despite only around 15 minutes of screentime). So she immediately commands respect just as her character Iris would. So seeing Judi Dench seemingly crumble beneath her malady forces us to pity her situation. I was in tears watching her lose her way in a crowd, when she used to spellbind them with her words. The movie makes us believe that we are witnessing a giant fall to her knees, and its almost impossible to take our eyes away.
Above all, IRIS is an elegy. It mourns the loss of a great mind, through the worst possible circumstances. It makes no bones about what its central character is going through (A doctor points out, "The lights will go out."). And it doesn't try to be inspirational when there is no glimmer of hope. If only it had balanced its happy moments of a young Iris with the sorrow of her weakening, then it could have been great. But amazingly, it shows the strength of true love as John Bayley struggles to care for his flower. Seldom have I seen a bond so lovingly depicted, and inspiration so cruelly being taken away. If you laugh at her defeat, you are heartless. After seeing IRIS, I have been reminded to cherish the people I love before they are gone, and that is its greatest strength.
Posted by FLIPCRITIC at July 5, 2002 12:00 AM