Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Smashing performances in drunk drama


The medium of film has taught us to pity the drunks. Or outright laugh at them.

Maybe it’s more than that, though, because there has been a constant evolution of alcoholism on film. Audiences laughed at boozy W.C. Fields, they acknowledged the problem in The Lost Weekend, they shamelessly judged Dean Martin in Rio Bravo as the inebriated cowboy. There was also a cautionary period that broadcast to us the dangers of alcohol: Bad Santa, Leaving Las Vegas and Under the Volcano. “Here is how ugly it can get,” they said loudly and plainly.

Smashed takes a different approach entirely by showing a realistic drinker and her realistic problem, but it never allows her to be a helpless victim. The movie follows Kate, a young school teacher who has grown up in a culture of alcohol. In the first scene she wakes up hung over to find she’s wet the bed. “I have a weak bladder,” she tells her husband as an excuse. Her morning coffee has a shot of rum in it, and then she slugs at a flask in the faculty parking lot at her school. She’s trying to fix a tie game between sober vs. drunk, because neither feels that great.

Her husband, Charlie, is some sort of online writer so he stays home all day and plans their evenings at bars, clubs and get-togethers. When he drinks he starts to doze off, but when she drinks she tends to get louder, more aggressive and creates scenes at liquor stores and karaoke bars. She has this unfortunate habit of peeing in places she shouldn't. Her first wake-up call: she vomits in front of her grade-school students, who all ask if she’s pregnant (perceptive kids). Her second wake-up call: she comes to under an overpass on a dirty sofa used by homeless people.

Kate is played by Mary Elizabeth Winstead, who starred in last year’s unfortunate reboot of The Thing. She gives an honest and brave performance, one of the best this year, as a damaged alcoholic. I was surprised by the freshness of her story arc; it is free of many of the clichés that come with movies of this type. Charlie is played by Aaron Paul, whose Pinkman character on Breaking Bad has endured his own addiction. These two young actors work good together because their stories feel genuine; they are not victims of some writer’s pretend interpretation of alcoholism. These could be real stories in your own family, down the street or one cubicle over.

The movie feels especially authentic because it’s not just about alcohol addiction, but about the long road to recovery as well. Once Kate realizes she might have a problem she’s invited to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting with a coworker. She stops drinking, gets a sponsor (Octavia Spencer), starts the 12 Steps and begins to re-shape her life. But nothing lines up the way she thought. Charlie still drinks, her mother openly chastises her for drying up and everywhere are bottles that scream in temptation. As she struggles with all this, Smashed frames Kate within a compassionate bubble. We don’t pity her, judge her or trivialize her ordeal. We just watch and listen.

Addiction has been shown in these ways before, and recently too. Think back to the Christopher Moltisanti sobriety plotlines on The Sopranos. The show spent a great deal of time talking about addiction, triggers and the AA methods. “I will never be normal again,” Christopher would say as he watched people drink socially without consequence. I think also of HBO’s other great show, The Wire, in which homeless addict Bubbles hits bottom and then bounces back up with the help of sponsors, sharing and dramatic life changes. There was love and tenderness in these scenes, and the characters were respected by giving their decisions meaning and value. Smashed mines into a similar message by showing Kate’s sudden collapse and eventual rise, and showing these events under uncompromising terms without cheapening who Kate is and who she will become.

There are characters I’m leaving out, including Nick Offerman (Ron Swanson from Parks and Recreation), who plays the friend of Bill’s who introduces Kate to AA. Offerman’s real-life wife Megan Mullally plays Kate’s school principal, who hears that Kate threw up in class and assumes the students are right, that Kate is pregnant. Of course, she throws a surprise baby shower for un-expectant Kate. Both of these characters do things that we cringe at, but they are realistic actions that mire Kate further in her problem.

The film has a preachy side to it, but I prefer that over a bombastic Michael Bay version of the same movie, where Kate becomes a hooker, or a drug dealer or an assassin as some kind of obnoxious excuse to show her rapid descent. Smashed works as it is because it’s small and isolated, and it sticks to a realistic story. You won’t see anything happen here that doesn’t happen every day in any city in the world. Director James Ponsoldt has a careful eye and it shows as his film progresses from a boozy cautionary tale to an uplifting character piece about recovery; I can't wait to see what he makes next. 

Smashed is a powerful film, and it respects its characters more than most. I hope that Winstead is not forgotten when insiders start throwing around award-worthy names in the next several months. Yes, actors and actresses win awards for playing sad, depressing characters who humiliate themselves for their addictions. But that’s not why Winstead deserves recognition. She deserves it not for the drunk parts, but the ex-drunk parts, because her rise is so much more interesting than her fall.