28 Days
Written by: Susannah Grant Starring: Sandra Bullock, Steve Buscemi, Viggo Mortensen, Elizabeth Perkins, Dianne Ladd, Dominic West Gwen Cummings (Bullock) is a writer and a party gal, with a drinking problem and an enabling boyfriend, Jasper (West). In the quick sequence that opens “28 Days,” we see just how far Gwen’s problem has made her sink. She trashes her sister Lily’s (a fine Perkins) wedding, then crashes the wedding limo. In lieu of jail, she is sent to rehab. Once there, she rails against the pollyannaish (in her view) rules and customs, but in the end, not entirely surprisingly, she learns to love herself, and realizes that she must make a change in her life if she is to survive. This material sounds vaguely unpromising, to be sure, but somehow Bullock makes it matter. She is really exceptional here; she makes us feel every ounce of anger, outrage, and, in the end, fear, that Gwen must experience in order to heal. The picture succeeds largely because we believe her. She leaves the movie star trappings behind and gets into the heart of the character she plays.
I have never been to a rehab program myself, but I am fairly sure that the people there are generally not so amusing or photogenic as the cast of characters that Gwen encounters when she goes in. This is not to condemn “28 Days” (it has to be entertaining, after all) because I liked the picture a lot. Once you accept the dramatic licenses it takes, it is hard not to root for the heroine. And, in fairness, writer Grant (who also wrote “Erin Brockovich”) and director Thomas have played the cards fairly straight. There may be a few things that are pro forma, but they resist the Hollywood impulse to sweeten everything and tie all the ends up neatly. In addition to the rules, Gwen must contend with a suicidal roommate, an amorous fellow patient, and, last but certainly not least, her counselor Cornell (Buscemi). It is fair to say that if Bullock is the heart of the picture, Buscemi (the once and future king of indie pictures) is the soul. It is a small but crucial role, because Cornell is the ballast which has to keep the entire picture centered. Buscemi plays it dead on straight--no mugging or playing up--and he is great.
In his low key way, Cornell allows Gwen to see the truth of what is happening, more than any showboating or histrionics could. “28 Days” is far from perfect. It is burdened with a few too many cute touches: for example, the “Airport” style P.A. announcements, and the rather tired convention of the ridiculous soap opera (the one created here is absurd even by soap standards) becoming an obsession (not to mention a learning tool!) for the patients. The reconciliation between Gwen and Lily seems too easy, and I could have done with fewer of the flashbacks Gwen has of her own alcoholic mother (we get the point, already). But without doubt the virtues of the picture outweigh its flaws. While some of the elements are contrived, the essence of it rings true. For example, Gwen meets a fellow patient, Eddie, a hunky major league ballplayer (Mortensen). The cliché would have been the love affair; but at the end of “28 Days,” Eddie is never heard from again. Even more telling, the picture ends on a note of restrained optimism; though things look good for Gwen, it is by no means certain that she will stay sober.
She has made a good start and some hard decisions, but we are left with the lingering question of whether she can endure the hardships that a lifelong condition brings with it. All of which is not intended to make the movie sound like a primer for 12-steppers. It is no grim puritanical scare picture. Bullock makes us care, Buscemi makes us think, and Thomas and Grant let us learn a little something about addiction even as we are entertained. (4/24/00)