THE LOST WEEKEND

Belly up to the bar, boys! Ray Milland

THE LOST WEEKEND (1945). Director: Billy Wilder.

Feeling himself a failure as a writer, and living off his brother, Wick (Phillip Terry of Hold That Kiss), Don Birnam (Ray Milland) has become, in his brother's words, a "hopeless drunk" His girlfriend of three years, Helen (Jane Wyman of Johnny Belinda), refuses to give up on Don, and does her best to help him. But even when he winds up in an alcoholic ward and later gets the DT's and has scary visions, he still won't stop drinking. Will Helen be able to get through to him, to get him to let his better self come through, or is he doomed?

The Lost Weekend is based on the autobiographical novel by Charles Jackson. Although Jackson married and had children, late in life he identified as bisexual and moved in with a male lover. This aspect of his life, and the fact that self-hatred over his homosexuality added to his distress and undoubtedly contributed to his drinking, is, of course, completely unexplored in this 1940's movie. The only thing that is mildly homoerotic in the picture is an obnoxious male nurse, Bim (well-played by Frank Faylen), in the alcoholic ward. Jackson wrote other works after Lost Weekend, but none were ever as successful as his first, and, although the movie intimates that Birnam will overcome his addictions, that was, sadly, not the case in real life. In 1968 he committed suicide.

Phillip Terry, Jane Wyman, Ray Milland

Still, The Lost Weekend is a memorable film with some first-class performances. Ray Milland, who is generally excellent, won the Best Actor Oscar. (The film also won for Best Picture, Best Director, Best Screenplay [Wilder and Charles Brackett] and Best Cinematography [John F. Seitz of the silent Four Horseman of the Apocalypse].) Phillip Terry, one of Joan Crawford's cast-off husbands, had a rare opportunity in a "A" picture and delivers a solid job in probably his most memorable role. Jane Wyman is as sympathetic and adept as ever. Howard Da Silva scores as the bartender, Nat, as do Doris Dowling as the barfly Gloria and Mary Young as Birnam's landlady, Mrs. Deveridge.

An interesting aspect of the picture is that, as played by Milland, Birnam often seems arrogant about his drinking and his life, as if the world owes him a living. In a sequence when Birnam steals a woman's purse in a restaurant, he seems to smirk as if he's gotten away with something, as opposed to his being ashamed and humiliated by his actions. This suggests that Birnam has character failings that have little to do with his drinking.

Jane Wyman

The film has some notable sequences, such as when Birnam sits at a performance of La Traviata, and the opera's famous brindisi (or drinking song) sequence only reminds him of the bottle of hootch he left in his jacket at the coat check and he has to leave to get a drink. Then there's his desperate run from pawn shop to pawn shop so he can get money for his typewriter only to learn that all the shops are closed for the Jewish holiday.

As good as the film is, it now has a kind of dated aspect to it. All you have to do is look at one of the episodes of Dr. Phil where he has desperate family members bringing an alcoholic and drug-addicted person on the show for a last chance at help, to realize that a person rarely just decides to stop drinking. The film is sanitized -- what seems horrifying about the debased, pathetic lives of drunks in this film is nothing compared to the reality. As good as Milland is, he rarely looks or acts like a really hard-core drunk despite the DT's and all the rest. As noted, the photography is first-class, as is Miklos Rosza's score, although the music the composer uses to denote, so to speak, "Demon Rum," is a little over the top and sounds like something out of a science fiction movie.

Verdict: The Lost Weekend must still be remembered as probably the first movie to depict alcoholics not as comical drunks but as tormented and addicted individuals. *** 

THE FOUR HORSEMEN OF THE APOCALYPSE (1921)

Rudolph Valentino

THE FOUR HORSEMEN OF THE APOCALYPSE (1921 silent film). Director: Rex Ingram. Tinted edition.

Madariaga (Pomeroy Cannon) is a lusty and very wealthy rancher and entrepreneur in Argentina who has two daughters. One of them has three sons by a German husband, Karl (Alan Hale), while the other is a Frenchman, Marcelo (Josef Swickard), who was a deserter. Madariaga has a special fondness for his grandson, Julio (Rudolph Valentino), Marcelo's spoiled and womanizing son. After the death of his grandfather, Julio moves to Paris with the rest of his family while Karl takes his own family back to Germany. Julio embarks upon an affair with a married woman named Marguerite (Alice Terry), whose much older husband is Laurier (John St. Polis of Mr. Wong, Detective), but her feelings for her lover change when her husband goes off to war. Argentinian, Julio is determined to stay neutral while WW1 rages around him, and his father finds his country estate ravaged by Germans, including his own nephew and a crude Lt. Colonel (Wallace Beery) who tries to rape a maid. By their actions, both Marcelo and Julio eventually find redemption. Based on a best-selling 1919 novel by Vicente Blasco Ibanez, Four Horsemen is a strong and absorbing, fast-paced film beautifully directed by Ingram and with fine photography by John F. Seitz. Strong characterizations and dramatic presentation make this an excellent picture even without Carl Davis' rich and excellent modern score, but the music -- with themes by Liszt -- adds immeasurably to its impact. There are perhaps too many shots of the phantom horsemen riding across the skies, as well as shots of the fire-breathing dragon-like "beast," and the Christ figure at the end is a little much, but this also has many powerful sequences. (One that sticks in the mind is two crying children clinging to their dead mother in the rubble.) Alice Terry and the older actors are all quite good, while Valentino [Beyond the Rocks] gets across his initially superficial character without raising a sweat. This is a sweeping historical epic that is not for one minute dull. Remade in 1962. Alan Hale [Stella Dallas] was the father of Alan Hale Jr. of Gilligan's Island infamy.

Verdict: A silent masterpiece. ****.