The Lost Weekend

Recently Nicole and I watched the alcoholic classic "The Lost Weekend" (1945) with my grandma while we were staying at her house. I'd been anticipating watching this movie since finishing my Russian finals in May.

I thought the dialogue was poor in the first half of the movie. Everyone was speaking in blurbs from contemporary alcoholism pamphlets. However, the movie picks up when uncontrollable wreck Ray Milland goes into a tailspin.

As I suspected in May, cerntainly the best scene in the movie begins when Ray Milland falls into the alcoholic delirium. He hallucinates that a squeaking mouse begins to emerge from a hole in the wall. A bat flies into the room through a window, takes a few menacing turns around the room, and then attacks the mouse. The mouse's tail writhes, blood dribbles down the wall, and Ray Milland screams like a lady.

Were I to fall into a delirium induced by caffeine deprivation, and a bat flew in through the window, I would hope that I would kill it and eat it, rabies be dratted.