And Daddy was an alcoholic
But your mother kept it all inside
Threw it all away.”
- Starsailor, “Alcoholic”
It was forty and some odd years past prohibition and one could tell. Drinking had become a national pastime. Today, Mad Men, and all of the Mad Men ripoffs, such as Pan-Am and The Playboy Club, immerses its characters in this world of social drinking. Entertainment media has either portrayed this era with glamour or has occasionally displayed its seamy side. This survey concentrates on films that tend to waver between the two, but then heavily fall on the side of the latter. While the following three movies may not be completely about alcohol, we see that it certainly plays a prominent role, especially in how it affects relationships.
Long Day’s Journey Into Night (1962, Sidney Lumet)
If you want to see four master actors at work, watch Long Day’s Journey Into Night. Based on the Putlizer Prize and Tony winning play by Eugene O’Neill, this film faithfully captures the conventions of a stage drama without losing any cinematic quality. Reportedly his most autobiographical work, Long Day’s Journey Into Night is a story of a highly dysfunctional family struggling with addiction. The Tyrone family, living in a seaside Connecticut home, is constantly at loggerheads, alternately bickering with each other over any manner of topic and then trying to make amends. Their expectations of each other, hopes, dreams, and motivations are all fueled by their respective poisons, making it difficult, at best, to determine whom these people truly are behind the masks of addiction.
The father, James Sr., is played masterfully by Sir Ralph Richardson, a perfect choice to portray the aging actor who longs for the old days, resentful of his typecasting, jealous of his sons’ youth, and livid about his wife’s narcotic hazes, all the while drowning his own misery in spirits. Katherine Hepburn plays Mary, the matriarch hooked on morphine, newly returned from a treatment center, but nowhere near out of the woods, with bouts of reverie that are hard to distinguish between the miasma of morphine use and simple nostalgia. One of my favorite actors of all time, Jason Robards, is an O’Neill “go-to” thespian. Having played in a whole host of O’Neill plays and adaptations, Robards traverses this film magnificently, portraying James Jr., or “Jamie,” the oldest son who followed in his father’s acting footsteps. Whereas the father had a hard time landing other roles due to a long run as the same beloved character, Jamie has a hard time because of his alcoholism and womanizing. Then there is Edmund, the character based on the author, played by Dean Stockwell. He is the most markedly different from the rest of the family, more inward and poetic, and suffering from tuberculosis, though this doesn’t stop him from stealing sips of booze every now and then.
At a nearly three hour running time, all in one location, it makes perfect sense that the sense of drama is heightened. Frankly, it would be anyway in this situation. The three alcoholic men are all ironically suspicious of their mother’s inevitable relapse, monitoring her every move and questioning her every absence. As the title of the play / film suggests, the action all takes place in the course of one long day, with each character degrading into the darkest depths of their respective humanity as night approaches. Katherine Hepburn’s appearance is a sight to behold, with her at first tightly coiffed hairdo gaining flyaways and loose tendrils as time goes on. Only her acting is more magnificent. She and her castmates drastically veer from hollow platitudes to strongly worded accusations and betrayals. It is as admirable for its writing and acting as it is incredibly disheartening for its realistic portrayal of addiction at its worst, most controlling, and most hypocritical. I’m a huge fan of dramatic theater, and this is a faithful adaptations of one of the finest works from a true master.
Days of Wine and Roses (1962, Blake Edwards)
Adapted from a television presentation, Days of Wine and Roses is quite possibly the most powerful film on the subject of alcoholism and recovery. I would say that Jack Lemmon is at the height of his acting prowess in this film, but that height lasted for another few decades. Lemmon plays Joe Clay, a public relations whiz that gets caught up in the fast-paced lifestyle of business and martini-lunches. He meets Kirsten, a young non-drinker who Joe lures into his own alcoholic world. The particular scene in which Joe seduces Kirsten is particularly familiar and, at the same time, disturbing. Claiming that she doesn’t like the taste of alcohol, he inquires as to tastes she does enjoy, and then finds an alcoholic beverage that perfectly matches that predilection. We have likely all seen this before, getting someone to enjoy alcohol because they find one that “tastes like candy.”
Joe’s few drinks with the guys turns into full-blown alcoholism and Joe drags Kirsten down with him. Their lives subsequently degrade, with demotions and firings in store for Joe and equally problematic and dangerous events occurring with Kirsten. Joe, passing a shop window, has an epiphany. He looks at his reflection and cannot recognize the alcoholic ‘bum’ he has become. Determined to turn their respective lives around, the young couple go to live with her father, but quickly succumb to their addictions yet again, resulting in a powerful performance by Lemmon in a greenhouse. This scene is one of the most affecting I’ve seen, capturing the absolute power of alcoholism in an absolutely disquieting manner.
Eventually, Joe gets help through Alcoholics Anonymous and his sponsor, Jim, played by Jack Klugman. But, because Kirsten refuses to get help, Joe has to choose between sobriety and his family. It is a heartbreaking film, and one that does not pull any punches in its depiction of the struggles of real people in their fight with alcoholism. Like Long Day’s Journey Into Night, it is also a master class in acting, with Lemmon and Remick able to elicit disgust, pathos, pity, affection, and empathy throughout their many ups and downs. It also shows just how easy it is for ordinary people to succumb to the excesses of alcoholism and that it is a disease, treatable and yet never escapable to a certain extent. In other words, every day is a struggle. When Jack Lemmon appeared on Inside the Actor’s Studio, in talking about Days of Wine and Roses, he stunned host James Lipton by saying, “Which I am, incidentally.” Confused over whether Lemmon was referring to his character or himself, he asked him to clarify. “No, as Jack Lemmon. I’m an alcoholic.” Lemmon and Remick both reportedly got help from AA sometime after the film’s release, and so too did more than quite a few viewers, and there is possibly no better story to result from a film like this.
Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966, Mike Nichols)
In this film, we once again visit an adaptation of a well-known play, this time one by the gifted playwright, Edward Albee. In this film, a professor of a New England college and his wife, the daughter of the college president, invite a young couple, a new addition to the school, and his wife, over for drinks. The young couple find themselves subsequently invited into an intensely volatile and hostile situation in the process. It is hard to tell whether alcohol is the progenitor of the hostility between George and Martha, played to the hilt by real life couple Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, or whether alcohol is merely a crutch for their severe relationship problems. Either way, it is almost a fifth character in this taut drama that is as equally impressive as it is incredibly uncomfortable.
Throughout the film, George and Martha are constantly bickering and belittling each other, making their young guests feel awkward and in the middle of a booze-filled maelstrom. As the events progress, the situation only escalates in sarcasm, bitterness, seduction, and danger. In the end, one cannot tell with any certainty whether this is a couple in the throes of madness fueled by alcoholism, or the throes of alcoholism fueled by madness. Either way, it is a highly watchable film with riveting performances though, as stated earlier, it can make one feel very uncomfortable. Albee and Mike Nichols, in his astounding directorial debut, manage to present a truly voyeuristic window into the lives of severely troubled characters that eventually reveal elements of their lives that are as equally pitiable as shocking. Not many actors could pull off such heavy material, but Burton, Taylor, George Segal, and Sandy Dennis do so more than admirably.
While all three films received several nominations of different types, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? achieved something that few other films have, earning Academy Award nominations in every eligible category. Though it lost out to A Man for All Seasons in some categories, which by the way is another great film based on a play, it did win five Oscars, including Elizabeth Taylor’s much deserved second win for Best Actress. One could almost see Long Day’s Journey Into Night and Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? as sister films and plays, providing a glimpse into the realities of addiction and relationship dysfunction. Both somehow display a stark realism and over-the-top dramatic tension at the same time. These are three powerful films that have had a lasting legacy in movie history, and rightfully so.
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