by Chris Marshall:
There are bad weekends, and then there is The Lost Weekend. Don Birnam, a failed
writer played by Ray Milland, is an alcoholic. His brother and fiancée (played
by Jane Wyman, who was Mrs. Ronald Reagan at the time) have done everything in
their power to help him, but it’s just no use. In a last-ditch effort to save
him, Don’s brother has planned a weekend getaway, just the two of them, so Don
can stay distracted and hopefully get some writing done. Things do not go as
planned.
It’s too bad that Don can’t put as much thought into his
novel as he does into hiding his booze. He knows that his brother has learned
most of his tricks, and the first ten or so minutes of the movie are all about
his efforts to smuggle a bottle of liquor into his suitcase for the trip. The lengths
that he is willing to go to effectively set up the extent of his alcoholism. This
man is a serious addict, which makes it even more devastating when his plans
are foiled.
Nevertheless, Don is an intelligent guy, and he won’t be
stopped so easily. After convincing his brother to go to a show with his fiancée
before they catch their train, he learns that a $10 bill is in the kitchen; it’s
payment for the cleaning lady. Don steals it, goes to the bar, and has a few
drinks. Nobody will notice, he figures, as long as he gets back before the show
is over.
As you might imagine, he doesn’t get back. His brother gives
up and leaves without him. His fiancée sits on the stairs crying and waiting
for him, but he’s too ashamed to face her. And this is where his troubles
really begin.
The rest of the film chronicles this lost weekend, and it
effectively portrays the nightmare of addiction. Don will do anything for just
one more drink. But one more drink is never enough. Soon he’s in the drunk tank.
The DTs come next. It’s not a pretty sight.
This seems healthy enough. |
This is a dark movie, especially considering that it was released
in 1945. In this era where virtually every movie showed its main characters
smoking and drinking, it was surprising to see a film that confronts the
potential horrors as well. The Lost
Weekend doesn’t cause the same feeling of overwhelming despair as, say, Requiem for a Dream, but that doesn’t
mean it’s a fun watch, either.
Billy Wilder turned out a string of great films during this
time (many of which are better than The
Lost Weekend, if you ask me), and he seemed infinitely capable of switching
between genres. Double Indemnity was
classic film noir. Sunset Blvd. was a
brilliant drama. The Apartment (which
also won Best Picture) was straight comedy. Some
Like It Hot is somewhere in between. He was successful no matter what type
of movie he made.
Unfortunately, I think that The Lost Weekend was more “successful” than “great.” I enjoyed it,
sure, but I didn’t love it like I did Double
Indemnity and Sunset Blvd. But
even though it wasn’t a masterpiece, it was important for tackling subject
matter that was all too often ignored at the time. I appreciated that. So many
of the Best Picture winners from the first couple of decades of the award have
been such “safe” movies. The Lost Weekend
took chances, and although it didn’t always work, it left a lasting impression.
And you know, I’ll take that.
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