The Lost Weekend on Screen Retains Horror of the Book
Those of us who read Charles Jackson's novel, The Lost Weekend, and groaned and sweated and shook over the agonizing memories it evoked, wondered how on earth anyone could ever expect to portray such personal, internal suffering in film. We knew it could be done in words, for there it was, the painfully true record of exactly how an alcoholic thought and felt and behaved during the course of a pretty typical alcoholic bender. The story of Don Birnam fitted most of us, closely enough. Even those of us who had not gone that far could recognize what would have been our inevitable future had we not accepted A.A. in time. Many of us had gone that far, and farther, and we could identify ourselves on nearly every page.