Tallahassee Democrat

March 14, 2002, Thursday

By Leo Sandon

Is Judi Dench a magnificent actress or what? "Iris" is one fine film. It is a commonplace that Dench is great. (Read drama critic John Lahr's "The Player Queen," in the Jan. 21 New Yorker.) Her repertoire includes memorable Shakespearean performances and roles in modern drama, such as Anya in Chekhov's "The Cherry Orchard" and Lady Bracknell in Wilde's "The Importance of Being Earnest," as well as many TV films and two popular TV comedy series. Dame Judi also performed with excellence as Elizabeth I in "Shakespeare in Love" and as Queen Victoria in "Mrs. Brown."

Dench's portrayal of Iris Murdoch, the late British novelist and philosopher who descended into Alzheimer's disease, must be her crowning achievement to date. The screenplay for "Iris" is based on husband John Baley's memoir of their life together, "Elegy for Iris." I have never seen another film move backward and forward in time so successfully. The young Iris is played by Kate Winslet, whose Oscar nomination is well-deserved. The young Baley is played by Hugh Bonneville, who should have received an Oscar nomination. The aging Professor Baley is played by James Broadbent in a strong performance.

In portraying the dying Iris, Dench, who is 67, increasingly is limited to eye and facial expressions, which she uses with bewitching realism.

The symbols in the film - descent into water, language, memories, friendships, the mystery of one's descent into a totally private self - are powerful, yet subtle enough not to be blatant. They serve the film's grand themes of Eros and Thanatos.

When I was in seminary, we had an older professor (actually, he may have been younger than I am now) who would recommend a concert, play, art exhibition or museum display by saying, "You'd better see it, boys, if the Lord will let you have it." He was referring to our budget and schedule limitations. Well, you should see "Iris" if the Lord will let you have it. Some scenes contain nudity and sexual expression, but they're done with taste and redeeming value, contributing to the film's theme of life and death.

One critic observes that "'Iris' is so well acted that it takes a while to realize it's really just another disease-of-the-week movie with a love story attached." This characterization doesn't do justice to the film.

Alzheimer's is not just another disease of the week because it is not just another disease. It has become a metaphor for the dissolution of all that is human in our lives, spiritually speaking. That is why 'Iris' is not just another bio-pic with exceptional acting. In the film the young John asks the young Iris, "You love words, don't you?" She replies, "Words are how one thinks." Precisely.

In the university today, if there were a discipline one could call "queen of the sciences" (and there is not - certainly not theology for well over nine centuries now), it might well be linguistics. There arguably is a consensus among many academic fields that the most important attribute of the human species is language. The argument is that what makes us truly human is the point on the evolutionary trajectory at which the fusion of thought and word took place. John, speaking of an Iris already deep into the abyss of Alzheimer's, says, "Words mean everything to her." Words mean everything to all of us.

Current theological reflection tends to emphasize the importance of language in human existence. The biblical notion of the imago Dei in human beings is interpreted as our ability to speak and then make creative use of our speech-thought. Similar to God, whose word-making we image or mirror in our lives.

Alzheimer's, then, symbolizes the apparent extinguishing of the very image of God in each person. That is why, for many of us, Alzheimer's constitutes the most devastating challenge to the meaning of our lives.

At this point, the most terrifying form of dying I can imagine is Alzheimer's because it constitutes a kind of death before death. I think I am not alone in that dread.

And all of those who provide care for loved ones with Alzheimer's need to be reminded that we care to the end because we have a covenant to keep, dignity to confer on whatever level it can be appreciated. We give care, as John did for Iris, to keep human life human.

(Leo Sandon is distinguished teaching professor of religion and American studies at Florida State University. E-mail him at lsandon@garnet.acns.fsu.edu)

Thanks to Cindy F.