Billy Wilder is the greatest
director. His “The Apartment” is the best romantic comedy film of all time. But
check out Best Picture winner “The Lost Weekend,” the 1945 stark
black-and-white story of a writer hitting bottom and finding yet more muck to dig
through as he battles alcoholism, the kind where the guy knows he can’t breathe
without a shot. Ray Milland –- I only ever knew him from “Escape to Witch Mountain” –- is Don, the insecure failure with just enough cash to buy just
enough booze to finish ruining his life. But, this is 1940s-era movie, so there has to be an oh-so-devoted dame, and we get it with Jane Wyman
as a magazine researcher. (Me, I thought the other lady of the film, a call girl, played by Doris Dowling, seemed far closer to earth than Wyman's saint.) Milland
plays his part with a desperate bitterness and a swagger that every drunk knows is so well acted that no one would ever know
he’s drunk. Wilder knowingly keeps those bottles in
focus. The “upper” ender vibes wrong as if the studio didn't want audiences going home with too much a taste of reality. A-
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