In a film full of lonely shots, perhaps the most solemn is a fade out of an unused tricycle as the film’s protagonist, Ben, packs up his house to move to Las Vegas to die. Ben has a terminal disease, its name is alcoholism, and this film, “Leaving Las Vegas,” does anything but make it look sexy. Unlike the film “Barfly,” this is not a film of addiction without consequence, but one that portrays, in an almost autobiographical way, the nature of alcoholism, pain, and loneliness. Las Vegas is full of people, full of life, lights, and excitement. But this is not an exciting film, but a bitter, funereal look at two people nearing the ends of destructive paths.
Nicholas Cage plays Ben Sanderson, a scriptwriter who loses his job due to his drinking. The film’s opening portrays a man so far down the slope of addiction, that when he takes his severance check into the bank to cash it, he can’t because his hands are shaking too violently. Getting a drink at a bar he returns, then proceeds to fill a shopping cart full of liquor before heading to Vegas. The film is directed by Mike Figgis, who makes a decision to save the opening credits, ‘Leaving Las Vegas,’ until roughly fifteen minutes in, until Sanderson’s story is sold to us…until we, as Sanderson, have no illusions about the reason he is heading into the desert.
Cage and Shue are in Believable, Expert Form
We are also introduced to a prostitute, Sera, played by Elisabeth Shue, who meets Ben and is invited up to his room. She soon finds out he is not really looking to have sex, just companionship. But keep in mind; this is not “Pretty Woman.” Ben and Sera find a kind of acceptance together, for a while fall in love, clinging to something both know can’t last.
Shue is in expert form here, shedding more straightforward roles such as “Adventures in Babysitting” or the sci-fi “Hallow Man,” and is completely Sera, a woman seemingly trapped in a lonely and dangerous profession. And Nicholas Cage here presents something that is dark, mournful, and honest in his portrayal of Sanderson. I wasn’t expecting this degree of acting from Cage—not from the man who slips through “Con Air” with little but a southern drawl, whose classic up-talking and voice raising are possibly as legendary as Tom Cruises.’ But Cage presents a veritable master class on acting here (winning an Oscar for ‘Best Actor in a Lead Role’). He doesn’t present an idea of an alcoholic in his final stages, but in every essence becomes Ben Sanderson, becomes this guy who, in one scene, cries a solemn, lonely tear though there is no pain in his face. The pain is inside, which he tries to kill with the bottle in his hands.
Acceptance and Love Amidst the Hurricane
The cinematography of “Leaving Las Vegas” is wonderful, contrasting the psychedelic lights of the city with forlorn, doleful jazz music that plays more like a funeral march. Ben burns first his passport, then sells his watch, his car, and little more than blinks when someone steals his wedding band, a relic of a failed marriage. We never learn if his wife left him because of the drinking, or he drank because of her leaving. We’re not supposed to. The film presents Ben’s alcoholism not as judgment, but as fact. We see its effect on those around him by friends who hint it would be better if he didn’t contact them anymore, from violent episodes of hand trembling and seizures, and, by the film’s end, looks of worry on Sera’s face as she tries in vain to get him to see a doctor.
The film explores these two as individuals, in many ways sweet and loving, despite their circumstances. For reasons I can’t explain, a trip to the mall by the two, and a gift of earrings Ben presents Sera is one of the nicest scenes in the film. It’s the eye of the storm of a hurricane; while you know things cannot continue this way, both characters blind themselves to it, fooling themselves into clinging to a form of acceptance and love they may have never felt before.
A Hard, Emotional Film that Stays with You
The images of “Leaving Las Vegas” stay with you and are not easy to shake off. Elements of film noir blend with a narrative that is objective, stark, and real. And sad. But amidst the sadness, moments of levity burst through the pain, moments that highlight unmet needs in its character’s lives, and a bond between Ben and Sera. The film’s cinematography, soundtrack, and setting enhance it in ways I’ve seldom seen. But the picture’s greatest asset is its acting. Cage and Shue bring us to the brink of human emotion; but before jumping off console us with a sublime sweetness one wouldn’t expect given its premise. The film ends the only way it can; and doesn’t fade easily with the credits.
