依然爱丽丝

      Good morning, it’s an honor to be here.      The poet Elizabeth Bishop once wrote:      The art of losing isn’t hard to master. So many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their lost is no disaster.       I am not a poet. I am a person living with early onset Alzheimer’s, and as that person I find myself learning the art of losing every day. Losing my bearings, losing objects, losing sleep, but mostly losing memories.      (Then her speech papers fell on the ground)      Em, I think I will try to forget that just happened.      (She joked after picking up the papers)      All my life, I’ve accumulated memories; they’ve become in a way my most precious possessions. The night I met my husband, the first time I held my textbook in my hands, having children, making friends, traveling the world. Everything I accumulated in life, everything I worked so hard for, now all that is being ripped away. As you can imagine, or as you know, this is hell, but it gets worse.      Who can take us seriously when we are so far from who we once were? Our strange behavior and fumbled sentences change other’s perceptions of us and our perceptions of ourselves. We become ridiculous, incapable, comic, but this is not who we are, this is our disease. And like any disease, it has a cause, it has a progression, and it could have a cure.      My greatest wish is that my children, our children, the next generation do not have to face what I am facing. But for the time being, I’m still alive, I know I’m alive. I have people I love dearly, I have things I want to do with my life. I rail against myself for not being able to remember things. But I still have moments in the day of pure happiness and joy. And please do not think that I am suffering, I am not suffering. I am struggling, struggling to be a part of things, to stay connected to who I once was.      So living in the moment I tell myself.      It’s really all I can do. Live in the moment, and not beat myself up too much, and, and not beat myself up too much for mastering the art of losing.      One thing I will try to hold on to though is the memory of speaking here today. It will go, I know it will, it may be gone by tomorrow. But it means so much to be talking here today like my old ambitious self who was so fascinated by communication.      Thank you for this opportunity. It means the world to me.      Thank you!

豆瓣8.0，147946人打分，朱丽安·摩尔凭这部片子拿了奥斯卡影后、金球奖影后、演员工会奖影后——三封影后直接封神。但数据只是背景，《依然爱丽丝》真正让我破防的，是那个用指甲反复抠门框的动作。摩尔饰演的爱丽丝在确诊后，有一次站在自家书房门前，手指无意识地抠着门框上的漆皮，就像她的大脑在一点一点剥落。导演没有用任何配乐煽情，就让她那么抠着，抠了大概十秒。那一刻我知道，这不是表演，这是被疾病附身。专业评价里说“避开苦情煽情套路”，我看完只想说：苦情在哪里？从头到尾都是克制。爱丽丝在演讲中说“我学着活在当下”，这句话被很多人截屏当鸡汤，但看完全片你会发现，那不是励志，那是绝望到极点的自我催眠。阿尔茨海默症最残忍的不是忘记名字，而是忘记自己曾是“谁”——一个常春藤教授、三个孩子的母亲、能背诵诗歌的语言学家，最后只能在平板电脑上跟着语音重复“我爱你”。摩尔为了演好这个角色专门去观察患者，她演的不是“病人”，而是“人”。生病前她优雅、理性，生病后她会在沙发上小便、会半夜游荡、会认不出女儿。那种恐惧是慢慢渗出来的：她看着镜子里的自己，眼神从困惑变成惊恐再到空洞——不到三分钟的戏，让你看见灵魂正在被抽走。但真正让我想骂人的是，为什么这么好的片子排片那么少？2014年在美国上映时票房不到2000万美元，还好制片方没为了迎合市场加狗血爱情线。导演理查德·格雷泽拍完这部片就因ALS去世了，他把自己面对绝症的感受全注入了镜头：不是抵抗，而是接受。这种接受不是软弱，是把尊严藏在陪伴里。最后说个细节：爱丽丝在病重时问小女儿莉迪亚“我有没有带伞”，莉迪亚说“有”，实际上根本没有。这个谎言像一束光，照进那个正在崩塌的世界。比记忆更恒久的，真的是爱吗？我不知道。但我想，如果有一天我忘了全世界，至少有人记得为我遮雨。