Alice’s only friend, Theresa Collins (Julianne Moore), also with two daughters, lives in stark contrast in outward appearance. Theresa’s house is a model of order. Tins of freshly baked muffins rest on a spotless countertop, and even something as messy as finger-painting projects are left neatly on a dining room table. Theresa’s husband has a flourishing career so that Theresa can afford to be a stay-at-home Mom, a luxury Alice can only dream of. Despite their differences, these women are close friends who share the intimacies of womanly conversation, family barbecues, and mutual support as each takes the other’s girls for sleepovers and baby-sitting relief.

Alice is constantly pushed to the edge. At school, she shouts at a young mother who often sends her son to school sick. At home, her older daughter Emma is often out of control with willful disobedience and nasty outbursts. Moreover, Howard is of little help in his laconic focus on his world of animals, chores, and the outdoors. He is not a bad man, but he is so absorbed in his routines and needs that he glides by Alice oblivious to what she is experiencing. He never sees her or his daughters as the women, as the people they really are, full of complexity and need of his engagement in their lives.

And so this kettle of simmering discontent is set to boil when two events shake these people irretrievably. First, Theresa’s youngest daughter drowns in the pond at the Goodwin farm while Alice momentarily turns her attention to childhood daydreams. While trying to peel away from the consuming depression caused by profound grief and guilt, the second blow strikes; Alice is arrested for sexually abusing the children at her school.

And then, a transformation begins. Being cast into jail while awaiting trial is a much-needed relief from all the responsibilities pulling Alice in opposite directions. This is her only chance to face the realities that have led her to her current situation. She is crippled by her own expectations, and even more so by her failure to live up to them. Although, none of what happens is her fault, she must find a new balance, and a new connection to herself and her loved ones.

Oprah’s television show, which is featured in the jail scenes, resonates a powerful individual need to express a scream of discontent that may not be anyone’s fault. Yes, we as a society, as communities, as individuals are far from nurturing the best in each of us. And yet, this film and an underlying theme of Oprah allow the many dimensions of our discontent to vent. Ultimately, it is up to Alice, up to all of us, to find the balance between our personal, sometimes selfish, needs and our responsibilities to those we love. We are all, as this film and Oprah illustrate, maddeningly, tragically, and comically imperfect, yet we seem to manage, even achieve greatness, when we are allowed to vent our discontents and move forward.

A Map of the World covers the vast web of human experience in one breath. This is not just a story about one woman’s frustrations, but a story of genuine friendship and loyalty, joys and griefs of motherhood, lack of spousal connection, guilt and depression, human propensity to judge and accuse others in order to mask one’s individual shortcomings.

In an almost painful naturalism, Sigourney Weaver, Julianne Moore, and David Strathairn weave this rich tapestry of life. Their impeccable timing and sense for emotional nuances is mesmerizing. The women appear to be without make-up, full of the flaws that make them seem so poignantly realistic. A Map of the World is a film with an every day beginning and an every day ending, and a triumph in between.