She embodies dignity, above all else. However, Alice does not flaunt this dignity; she does not wear a halo over her head. There is no pretentiousness; everyone knows who she is—Freindlich—and understands how to interact with her. She behaves in a manner that undoubtedly respects each person, recognizing their individuality.
Never ask anyone for anything; they will come to you and give everything willingly. She never asked for anything; they simply offered it. But there is one question: how did this blockade girl with a German surname, fully aware of her father's tragedy as a brilliant artist, transition from being a young girl with an unconventional appearance (they told her, "your face is not photogenic") and a travesty in her roles, playing boy pioneers and comical old women, into this great actress? Nevertheless, she still plays comical old women now, even in her status of 'greatness'; it is no problem for her at all. And of course, you remember the character referred to as "mymra" and "the old woman" in "Office Romance."
“Office Romance” is, of course, about her. Yes, it’s a fairy tale, yes, Cinderella, but it is undoubtedly her life. In that very comedy, after which she became famous across the country, everything transforms, and of course, it is love. In this case, love for a man, for Andrei Myagkov—Novoseltsev. But in reality, it is this love, in a global, cosmic sense, that has guided and continues to guide her through life; and here is the true miracle—Alice Freindlich.
On TV, in a documentary on Channel One, Nikolai Tsiskaridze met with her, serving as her questioner and somewhat of an opponent. Indeed, Kolya is now practically a regular on Channel One; he can handle it. Did he manage? There they sit across from each other—a very beautiful woman at the age of 90 and he, Kolya, young and early, although the young one is already 50. In their genius across various spheres of art, they might even be equals. Nikolai conducted this interview excellently, showing how well he understands Alice's entire background, how delicately and elegantly he navigates the nuances of her roles, and how crucial it was for him to grasp the moment when she said to Novoseltsev on their rendezvous, "I do not believe you," while taking a deep breath. Or how in the film "Success," when Filatov, playing the director, asks her, the leading lady, "Well, do you want me to kneel before you?"—and she replies "I do," with an elongated "ch," emphasizing it that way. Kolya noted everything and will remember it for life, which became very important for him. But… they sit across from each other, Alice shows Tsiskaridze her utmost respect, yet she remains somewhat closed off, albeit moderately so; she will not and does not intend to bare her soul so publicly—there is a certain distance in her. And why? Because Nikolai is good in every way, but that chemistry between a man and a woman never materialized—just like that. And Alice is, first and foremost, a woman.
At that time on “Culture,” they repeated a five-year-old program where the president of Author's Television, and also a magnificent journalist, Anatoly Malkin, met with her. And there, the male-female dynamic was palpable; Alice felt it, engaged with it, and shared everything—almost everything, that is! It was there that the mania necessary for an interviewer conversing with a woman occurred.
Of course, she is unique, and watching her, listening to her, and seeing her in those magnificent and diverse roles is pure pleasure. You never want to label her as simply a prima (even though she is indeed a prima) because she primarily laughs at herself, ironizes about herself, and does not elevate herself, nor does she place herself on a pedestal. All that is human is within her, and that is truly beautiful.