Now normally, knowing that a movie is about a guy intent on drinking himself to death and the relationship he forms with a street walking hooker, I'd have some major reservations about it.
I'd expect Shannon Whirry or Jewel Shepard to star as the hooker with choice lines such as "Omigod! I can't believe my top just fell off," to help the plot along. And I'd expect to see Mickey Rourke or Eric Roberts playing the drunk, stumbling around and bumping into things in a bar. Ben, not quite sure of the definition of the word 'rebound', drowns his sorrows in bottle after bottle of vodka and tequila. The effects of his constant drinking get him fired from his job, at which time he makes up his mind to burn all of his possessions and move to Las Vegas, where he decides he will drink himself to death.
I recently read the opinion of another movie critic who had written that he would never vote to give the Best Actor or Best Actress Oscar to any actors who played drunks or retards. His reasoning on this is seemingly sound: these are the cushy roles that most actors salivate at the chance to have. True, but overruled in this case. Never before, outside of films shown at traffic school, has the camera been present for so many of the horrible, gut-wrenching times in an alcoholic's life. Every filmmaker in Hollywood can, and has shown a drunk at the bar, making a fool out of him/herself, or a bum lying face down in the gutter, holding a brown, paper bag, but not many directors have been present at three o'clock in the morning, when the alcoholic in question gets the shakes and is forced to down a half gallon screwdriver just to get back to sleep. It is at these times, when Cage has the shakes, the dry heaves, or passes out on the street, that his performance is the most powerful. Portraying an alcoholic or not, Cage most assuredly deserved the award he received. Cage owes a large part of his award to director, screenwriter, and--get this--musical composer Mike Figgis' risky venture, which just isn't afraid to show the audience the very large and graphic downsides of being either an alcoholic or a hooker.
Despite all evidence to the contrary though, Leaving Las Vegas is first and foremost an albeit depressing love story. Elisabeth Shue, who with this role detached herself from her 'nice girl' image that she had earned in Adventures in Babysitting and Cocktail, is Sera, the proverbial hooker with a heart of gold. She and Cage meet and both fall for each other in their own sweet codependent way. The bond between the two is so strong that they agree not to try and change the other's way of life.
And thus, Cage continues to chug fifth's of whiskey, and Shue continues to turn tricks. Figgis controls the tempo of this film well, interspersing grainy, documentary style scenes of Shue talking about her life and love for Cage, with the actual tale of how the two lovers met. The tone of this movie is sad, surprise surprise, but also strangely triumphant. At times this film can be quite graphic, but this slides into the background once you've gotten to know, care, and sympathize with Cage and Shue's characters. I really enjoyed and appreciated what Figgis has created in Leaving Las Vegas. This was an almost totally unexpected surprise.
![[Photo]](/photos/leavinglasvegas1.jpg)
Now normally, knowing that a movie is about a guy intent on drinking himself to death and the relationship he forms with a street walking hooker, I'd have some major reservations about it.
![[Photo]](/photos/leavinglasvegas2.jpg)
I recently read the opinion of another movie critic who had written that he would never vote to give the Best Actor or Best Actress Oscar to any actors who played drunks or retards. His reasoning on this is seemingly sound: these are the cushy roles that most actors salivate at the chance to have. True, but overruled in this case. Never before, outside of films shown at traffic school, has the camera been present for so many of the horrible, gut-wrenching times in an alcoholic's life. Every filmmaker in Hollywood can, and has shown a drunk at the bar, making a fool out of him/herself, or a bum lying face down in the gutter, holding a brown, paper bag, but not many directors have been present at three o'clock in the morning, when the alcoholic in question gets the shakes and is forced to down a half gallon screwdriver just to get back to sleep. It is at these times, when Cage has the shakes, the dry heaves, or passes out on the street, that his performance is the most powerful. Portraying an alcoholic or not, Cage most assuredly deserved the award he received. Cage owes a large part of his award to director, screenwriter, and--get this--musical composer Mike Figgis' risky venture, which just isn't afraid to show the audience the very large and graphic downsides of being either an alcoholic or a hooker.![[Photo]](/photos/leavinglasvegas3.jpg)
Despite all evidence to the contrary though, Leaving Las Vegas is first and foremost an albeit depressing love story. Elisabeth Shue, who with this role detached herself from her 'nice girl' image that she had earned in Adventures in Babysitting and Cocktail, is Sera, the proverbial hooker with a heart of gold. She and Cage meet and both fall for each other in their own sweet codependent way. The bond between the two is so strong that they agree not to try and change the other's way of life.