To call Nicolas Cage's character an alcoholic would be a disservice to alcoholics everywhere. I mean, even a raging drunk has to come up for air sometimes, but Ben Sanderson (Cage) knocked down bottles of booze with the speed of The Flash, torching the memories of his past and sliding into the darkest oblivion imaginable. There's some measure of humanity in the story when Ben discovers a Las Vegas street walker named Sera (Elizabeth Shue), who offers him her love and friendship because of an ethereal connection she makes with the down and out former screenwriter. Yet even their tender moments together and the poignant background music do little to hide the fact that these two damaged souls are derelicts from the human race, and as it turns out in Ben's case, beyond saving both spiritually and bodily. The film may be of service to demonstrate how low one can go before succumbing to the depths of despondency and despair, and that there may be hope around the corner if only one were to reach out and recognize a helping hand. But this one goes in the other direction, and serves as a reminder that relentlessly abusing one's body and spirit can only end one way.
Review of Leaving Las Vegas
