La mémoire éternelle

As "The Eternal Memory" (2023 release from Chile; 84 min.) opens, we are introduced to Augusto and Pauli, a couple that has been together over 20 years. Augusto has Alzheimer's and Pauli lovingly takes care of him. We then go back in time, to the days when Augusto was a respected TV reporter who covered the Pinochet era, and when Pauli was a respected actress who eventually became Chile's Minister of Culture. At this point we are 10 minutes into the movie.

Couple of comments: this is directed by Maite Alberdi, who also directed "The Mole Agent", an Oscar-nominated documentary. Here she follows the descent of one man's descent into the hell that is Alzheimer's, and how his wife deals with it. Let me state upfront that my dad dealt with this horrible disease for years up until his death in 2007. It was as if I was watching my dad in this documentary. Exactly the same anguish, desperation, confusion, frustration ("What's wrong with me? I need help!"). This isn't the Hollywood version of Alzheimer's, none of which worse than the pathetic 2014 movie "Still Alice" (for which Julianne Moore won an Oscar no less). This documentary shows what Alzheimer's is really like: a vicious, uncurable disease that knows no mercy, and which never has a happy Hollywood ending, as this documentary heartbreakingly demonstrates.

"The Eternal Memory" is currently rated 93% Certified Fresh on Rotten Tomatoes, and for good reason. Just a few days ago, it also received a well-deserved Best Documentary Oscar nomination. The movie is currently streaming on Paramount+ , where I just watched it last night. If you are interested in Alzheimer's for whatever reason, do yourself a favor: check this out sooner rather than later, and draw your own conclusion.

"The Eternal Memory" is a portrait of love, memory and identity as chronicled through the penultimate days of renowned Chilean journalist Augusto Gongora by his wife, the actress and politician Paulina Urrutia. It's a profound look at love and companionship and is also an enlightening study of the concepts of memory and identity... Whether that be of Gongora himself, who due to his Alzheimer's is losing his memory, or the work he dedicated his life to, that being the preservation of the collective Chilean memory and identity. It's a sad but tender documentary that is universal in its message and inclusive in its identity. It's a part of us, a part of humanity and a part of the future. Do check this out!

Filmed during the COVID lockdown, this really is a poignant and affecting love story. We are introduced to Augusto Gongora and his wife Paulina Urrutia. The former was an accomplished television journalist in Chile during it's frequently turbulent times, she an acclaimed actress and they have, by 2023, been married for a quarter of a century. What we discover quickly is that he is suffering from Alzheimer's and as the pair continue through the life, both dread what they know to be coming: the day when he will no longer know who she is. This is one of those rare documentaries where the actuality of the political trouble and strife actually serve to deliver us a bit of a breather from the intensity of this most human of stories as the couple wake up each morning without any idea what that day may bring. The lockdown scenario and the hand-held photography ensures that there are few other characters to divert our focus from this intimate and heart-rending depiction of their determination not to allow this disease to prevail any earlier than they have to. Their habits and routines are designed to elicit as many memories and triggers as possible to enable Augusto to hold onto his soul for just that bit longer, but he isn't a King Canute and even throughout the timeframe of this documentary we see that they cannot thwart the inevitable. It's not some melancholy affair, though. Their grandchildren enliven things and this couple are still very much up for the joys of life. There is plenty of laughter to remind us that it's life they want to live, not just an existence they wish to seek. From an observer's perspective we also get a little of the sense of the frustration felt by this man who, as a journalist, was a voracious reader but who can no longer enjoy his vast library. We also see a dedication and affection from Paulina who must also recalibrate from time to time to ensure that she doesn't succumb to the relentless pressures of living such an unpredictable life. This isn't an easy watch, but over ninety minutes we get an insight into just how spirit and a sense of humour can still make a difference.

In The Eternal Memory, there is a strong emotional charge from the first moment, which is maintained until the last seconds. This is the hook for the general audience, since emotionality is associated with relatable events. My biggest problem with this documentary is that the story loses its direction in monotony, falling into a plot dead end from which it cannot escape. It seems more like a video diary of the progression of one of the protagonists' illness, which also doesn't quite work, since there are inexplicable time jumps and events that remain unmentioned.

The documentary only relies on its high emotionality to attract an audience and there is nothing more to tell.

It's not completely flat and boring, but I would recommend other works alluding to the topic in question, such as the films Still Alice or The Father.

It's been said that one of the most cherished hopes for a loving relationship is that its partners inevitably have someone with whom they can grow old together, a time when they can warmly look back on their time as a couple with fondness and treasured memories. But what happens when something occurs that threatens to steal those precious recollections? That's one of the tragedies that can come with various forms of dementia, such as Alzheimer's Disease, a condition that seriously endangered the long-term loving partnership of renowned Chilean author/journalist Augusto Góngora and his wife, actress and former Minister of Culture Paulina Urrutia. But, rather than seeking seclusion in the wake of that diagnosis, Góngora insisted on making his story public, telling the tale of his condition and the diligent, compassionate efforts of Urrutia in acting as his caregiver, particularly in helping him hold on to his memory as fully and as long as possible. Their story is sensitively recounted in writer-director Maite Alberdi's moving documentary, a film that will simultaneously warm and break your heart. In telling their tale, this title explores the importance of preserving one's memories as a measure of one's identity and accomplishments, both personally and professionally. In Góngora's case, that involves the depth of his love for his wife, family and friends, as well as the critical role he played in making the Chilean public aware of the grotesque atrocities that unfolded in the wake of the country's 1973 coup d'etat and the restoration of the nation's cultural and artistic heritage after its return to democracy with the ouster of the Pinochet regime in 1990. Those recollections, in his view, represent a depth of courage that's to be preserved and not lost to the ravages of time and illness. This Oscar nominee for best documentary feature and its designation as one of 2023's top documentaries by the National Board of Review is a striking piece of filmmaking, one that's sure to touch virtually anyone who watches it (but be sure to keep those hankies handy). When we consider what can potentially be lost under circumstances like these, any efforts made to prevent that are truly heroic steps to be commended, and this film does an outstanding job at making that known, both in this case and as a practice to be employed whenever comparable conditions arise.