The Genius of Marian is an intimate and courageous portrait of filmmaker Banker White's 61-year-old mother, who is struggling with early-onset Alzheimer's disease. As importantly, it is a film in which paintings, home movies, photos and current footage come together to depict a family afflicted with Alzheimer's in two generations -- and fighting to cope with loss while holding on to its collective memory.
Pam White, whose mother died of Alzheimer's, is the center of this story and the family, even as the disease drains her memories and alters her personality. Yet, somehow, through all the comic and tragic incidents that mark the illness's inexorable progress, Pam, her husband and her kids, find something in themselves, as a family, that can't be taken away. Even late in the film, in a lucid moment, Pam says, "This doesn't really change anything."
By her own account, Pam White's early years were a fairy tale. Her father owned a hotel in Cambridge, Mass., and her family lived in it as if it was their castle. Her mother was the renowned painter Marian Williams Steele, who became noted for stunning portraiture and New England landscapes, including lively impressionistic scenes of her family at play at the Gloucester seashore.
Even when the fairy tale ended, with Pam's father losing the hotel and her parents divorcing, Pam seemed marked for special things. From her mother, she inherited a zest for life and a buoyant optimism, not to mention beauty. In her youth, she was a model and actress. Her parents' divorce gave her a strong desire for family, so she married Ed White from New York and raised three children in Needham, Mass., while continuing a career in social work as a high school counselor. Her husband was loyal and successful. As Jane Brewer, one of her admiring friends, says, "She had the furthest to fall. She was the best at everything she did."
In 2008, Pam began writing a book about her mother, titled "The Genius of Marian." Marian Steele had remained a strong, inspiring presence in her family's life until her death in 2001 from Alzheimer's. Pam started her book, she tells Banker, because his grandmother was "amazing," a person whose memory should be "kept alive and not forgotten." In an uncanny twist, Pam was diagnosed with Alzheimer's only a year after beginning the book.
And so the film starts to become the book that Pam may not be able to finish and, beyond that, the story of two remarkable women and their family's struggle to cherish, preserve and persevere in the face of a seemingly annihilating illness. The special dread of Alzheimer's is that it robs people of their memories and leads to uncharacteristic, sometimes dangerous, behavior. It is often a long and isolating disease process. According to the Alzheimer's Association, there are approximately 5.4 million people in the United States with Alzheimer's disease; up to 5 percent have early-onset, which affects people younger than 65. And for the 15 million caregivers, the stress can be debilitating.
The Genius of Marian follows Pam's struggles, from early episodes of word fumbling that seem almost funny and attempts to hide "memory issues," to more serious states of confusion and distress, emotional outbursts and increasingly quarrelsome resistance to her care--and caregivers. Then comes helplessness in everyday tasks. Ed, to whom she's been married for 40 years, patiently bears the brunt of the care and his wife's frustrations. He manages by remembering "the phenomenal life she's given me." In addition to Pam's eldest son, Banker, her son Luke and her daughter, Devon, and Devon's own young family all pitch in to help Pam hold on to as much as she can for as long as she can.
Marian's paintings offer them special joy and bring their memories to life. When Banker asks his father which painting is his favorite, he responds, "The painting of the girl in the yellow beach hat. Pam is in a yellow bathing suit with this big brim, yellow hat on, sort of looking at the sea. Her hair is blowing in the wind and she's got this beautiful smile on her face. It's spectacular."
In an early scene, Pam and her son Banker are discussing things she can't do anymore. Banker is driving while recording the conversation and asks whether Pam remembers her own mother's loss of memory. Pam answers, "She had Alzheimer's and I don't." Banker responds, "Didn't the doctor say that you did have early-onset Alzheimer's?" Pam snaps, "Careful!" and they continue in awkward silence. Pam's friend Jane recalls this period: "She would call it her 'memory issues,' but then would say, 'Please don't tell anyone.' And I didn't." Indeed, Pam would often ask the few friends and family members she did inform to keep her diagnosis a secret "because people worry... about catching it." Eventually Pam does tell her close friends, and we watch them do their best to help and to stay close to a beloved friend while slowly losing her.
The Genius of Marian offers special insight into how, for Pam and her family, the struggle is not only to cope with the physical realities of Alzheimer's, but also not to let the disease psychologically overwhelm them. They know Alzheimer's ultimately will take Pam, but they won't let the disease define their memories of her or of the ways they have been blessed by her presence. White's film, like his mother's book, is about an amazing woman. She, too, cannot be forgotten.
In a poignant moment, Pam sums up who she is in a soliloquy for the camera. "I live for my family and my children," she says. "And one little glitch is that I have developed Alzheimer's, and initially I was quite distressed and upset about it, but it doesn't really matter, it doesn't really change anything. So I don't feel sad and I don't feel regret. I feel blessed that I have this wonderful family and a husband who is extraordinarily wonderful. I just feel like maybe the way my mother did when she was dying. It just was the way it was. And remembering, keeping, cherishing all the times I had with friends and family... it's all good. No regrets."
"I have been making documentary films for more than a decade, and each project has been deeply important to me in its own way," says director Banker White. "The Genius of Marian is the most personal and challenging project I have ever undertaken. I approached this film both as a loving son and as a patient observer.
"On the surface, the film is about my family's effort to come to terms with the changes Alzheimer's disease brings. But it is also a meditation on the meaning of family, the power of art and the beautiful and painful ways we cope with illness and loss. The last few years have been a roller coaster of emotions, filled with frustration, sadness, joy and celebration.
"I grew up feeling like my mom could do it all -- and often, she did. She worked full-time while raising my siblings and me, maintained deep friendships and dedicated herself to helping others, both in her personal life and in her career as a therapist. The spirit of my mother's book project was my point of departure -- the deep desire to memorialize someone we love and to connect with the difficult and complex emotions that surround losing them. My goal is to create a film that finds light and beauty in a place often shrouded in shame and confusion."
"The Genius of Marian is a reminder that we don't often talk about the really important things until we're in the middle of a tragedy," says Anna Fitch, co-director and Banker's wife, "but you don't have to wait. Alzheimer's give you the unique gift of time with someone you know you are going to lose. I hope our film will inspire people to connect on an intimate level with everyone they love."