'Alcoholics can be a bit over the edge.'
"Alcoholics can be a bit over the edge"? One could say that. Most murders, suicides, assaults, and domestic disputes are alcohol-related. Not to mention date rapes and DWIs, as in "vehicular manslaughter." I would refer you to the National Council on Alcoholism's web site for verification. "Days of Wine and Roses" is one of a handful of movies that depicts alcoholism with stark, powerful realism. It's a rip-off of nothing, let alone a campy artifact like Reefer Madness. This J.P. Miller piece had its origin as a live television play starring Cliff Robertson and Piper Laurie during the 1950s Golden Age of Television. The pity is that this film isn't more widely remembered and appreciated and that it's message is obviously wasted on some who see the film as a "downer" (although it ends with a partially hopeful message--that all any recovering alcoholic/addict has is today, ss there is no "cure" or guarantee against future "relapes" but that there is hope and redemption in sobriety). Audiences prefer escapism to straight-up reality. Me, I'll take compelling, mind-blowing realism and powerhouse acting to slapstick puffery any day. Little did I know when I first saw it as a nineteen or twenty-year-old (youth does not necessarily equal superficiality) that I would one day be living it.
Lemmon was an alcoholic in real life and he did admit it on Inside the Actor's Studio, when Days of Wine and Roses came up. Lemmon did not elaborate (or it may have been edited--the moment did have a jump-cut feel to it) and Lipton didn't follow up because he seemed genuinely shocked and unprepared for that response--he's not Barbara Walters or Mike Wallace. Lemmon often looked boozy and bloated in some of his '70s films and interviews. He must have gotten help because in later years he appeared to be healthy and sober. Hopefully, he found peace in sobriety.
By the way, according to AMC, after Lemmon's most extended, horrific scene in "Days"--tearing apart a greenhouse in search of a potted plant in which he'd hid a liquor bottle he now desperately needs but cannot locate--the raw footage was lost on its way to the film developer. The next day, Blake Edwards had to give Lemmon the bad news that Lemmon would have to redo the harrowing, cry-from-hell scene, which he did, remarkably. We'll never know which take was better but it really doesn't matter. Lemmon's performance was a tour-de-force and would have won the Oscar if the Academy hadn't bestowed it on Gregory Peck for the socially conscious To Kill a Mockingbird--the Academy's well-intentioned, pro-civil rights statement at a time when the issue was destined to explode nationally.
After his name was called during the Oscar ceremony, Peck is said to have stopped by Lemmon's seat on his way to the podium to clutch his hand, as if in recognition that Lemmon's performance was the superior of the two, which it was. Peck's performance was towering but all he needed--great actor that he was--was to be noble, stoic and dignified Gregory Peck. Lemmon had to turn his guts inside out in scenes that depict the hell of delirium tremens so realistically, it had to leave him emotionally drained and debilitated. Lemmon's character required a much greater range of emotions--charm, comedy, anger, agony, pathos, despondency, hope. Playing a drunk realistically is one of the most difficult tasks for any actor--it's so easy to overplay and requires more than slurring your words and bumping into furniture--and it's a challenge to keep the audience's sympathy. Lemmon pulled it off masterfully, poignantly and memorably. A great, great movie.
Other memorable movies concerning alcoholism:
The Lost Weekend -- dated to some but a landmark Billy Wilder Best Picture-winner that depicted the alcoholic as a denizen of a special level of hell for the first time (and challenged the Hays Office's censorship code) and not just as a bumbling, comedic figure. Milland's Oscar performance remains a standout.
My Name Is Bill W. -- James Woods' Emmy-winning portrayal of AA cofounder Bill Wilson is essential viewing. James Garner is perfectly cast as Wilson's fellow cofounder and brother-in-sobriety, Dr. Bob Smith. An outstanding portrayal of the alcoholic mind, his impact on others, and how Alcoholics Anonymous came into being, against all the odds.
Ironweed -- poison at the box office (too depressing and set in Depression era Albany, NY) but filled with rich performances (Oscar nominations for Nicholson and Streep). Based on William Kennedy's Pulitzer-winner. If you want to feel better about your own life, give this one a look.
I'll Cry Tomorrow -- Oscar winning actress of yesteryear Susan Hayward memorably played real-life entertainer Lillian Roth's descent from stardom to the Bowery at a time when it was still considered shameful for a woman to be an alcoholic. Includes vintage shots of the Bowery circa-1956 (when it was still known as The Street of Forgotten Men) and NYC's Third Avenue El as it awaited demolition.
Honorable mention:
Under the Volcano -- John Huston's movie is not about alcoholism per se but Albert Finney's performance as an alcoholic is one of the most realistic you will ever see on film.
The Verdict -- Paul Newman as a boozy, discredited, ambulance-chasing attorney seeking redemption. One of Newman's best.
Young Man With a Horn -- Kirk Douglas portrays a character based on Bix Beiderbecke (without the jazz great's tragic ending) in a memorable performance that includes great 1950 on-location footage of Times Square, Harlem, and great footage of the old Third Avenue Elevated Train.
Pollock -- Such a great movie on so many levels that I don't mean to "pigeon-hole" it here. Sufficient to say that Ed Harris's performance as the angst-ridden, alcoholically challenged artist hits all the right notes and Marcia Gay Harden richly deserved her Oscar.
The Iceman Cometh -- there's a kinescope televison DVD version with Jason Robards' breathrough performance and a young, unknown Robert Redford, as well as a '70s version (also on DVD) with Lee Marvin, Fredric March, a young Jeff Bridges, and a superb Robert Ryan, directed by John Frankeheimer. (Spacey's version is not available.) You can't go wrong with either version. It's all classic O'Neill.
Clean and Sober – an unappreciated gem. People just didn’t want to accept Michael Keaton in this straight role as a alcoholic, substance-abusing wheeler-dealer who draws heat from the police after a female pick-upo dies of a cocaine overdose in his bed. “Darryl” has been subsidizing his drug habit with funds from his clients’ accounts (which he fully intends to pay back before anyone notices), as in, embezzlement leading to prison time. He decides to lam it incommunicado in a thirty-day rehab until he can figure out his next move. His biggest concern (as he finishes off a six-pack in his car before his intake interview) is whether he will be able to convince the staff that he truly is suffering from addiction, so that they’ll admit him. It’s a journey of revelation with strong support by chemical abuse counselor Morgan Freeman that was considered a little overwrought by those who don’t need to realize how truly “over-the-top” la vida loca is.