In this golden age of home viewing, the Criterion Collection still provides some of the best editions of the best movies ever released, usually with a rich selection of extras and often including audio commentaries (a feature they pioneered, and perhaps the greatest gift ever to film students and cinephiles alike). This column features one Criterion release per week, based entirely on where my interests lead me.
Days of Wine and Roses is included in the Criterion box set The Golden Age of Television. For more about that series and the context in which the programs in it were created, see this review.
One thing I’ll say for the selections in The Golden Age of Television: not only do they include something for just about everyone but the selected works are important for their influence as well as for their own intrinsic merit. The last program in the set, John Frankenheimer’s Days of Wine and Roses (with a teleplay by J.P. Miller) is a good old-fashioned problem play that could be seen as an adult precursor to the after-school specials intended to caution young people about the horrors of drug use and unintended pregnancy. Days of Wine and Roses is much better done, of course, but its didactic tone can’t be denied, and the teaching aspect is built into the screenplay.
When we first meet handsome young businessman Joe Clay (Cliff Robertson), he’s speaking at an AA meeting overseen by Jim Hungerford (Malcolm Atterbury) (they’re tape inserts into an otherwise live performance). After a brief introduction, he begins to tell his own story of descent into alcoholism and we see it all play out in flashbacks, punctuated by returns to the AA meeting and a coda that takes the story in a different direction.
Joe and Kirsten (Piper Laurie) meet cute at an office party overseen by their boss (Dick Elliott channeling Guy Kibbee) where the booze flows freely and apparently hired female “guests” are present, since Kirsten, a secretary, is quick to differentiate herself from “them.” I guess that was the 1950s for you because that odd exchange isn’t explained yet there’s a clear contrast between the stylish but understated dress of Kirsten, a secretary, and that of some much more glamorous women decked out in diamonds and pearls. The company seems to be in the oil business, which could explain why it also seems to be “dress like a sheikh” night for the men, which was presumably less offensive in the 1950s than it would be today.
Joe and Kirsten get married and have an adorable little girl (Mimi Gibson). She’s a stay-at-home mom (the 1950s again) while Cliff is spending a lot of time socializing with the guys, which means a lot of drinking. She’s less than pleased with him coming home drunk and raising a ruckus while the baby is sleeping, while he thinks she’s just no fun. So he urges her to take a drink which, in the way such things go in movie scripts, leads to another drink and another and another. Soon they’re both full-blown alcoholics it affects both Joe’s work and their home life.. Kirsten’s father Ellis (Charles Bickford) tries to help and it works for a while, but soon they fall into the well-known pattern of two steps forward, three steps back, until they hit rock bottom.
Days of Wine and Roses doesn’t end at an AA meeting, switching instead to a coda that takes the story in a new direction. You can probably guess what it will be, given how closely Days of Wine and Roses follows the expected story beats, but those beats were created by this teleplay so it’s not fair to hold its many imitators against it. That Days of Wine and Roses is at all watchable today is a tribute primarily to the cast, in particular Piper Laurie, who goes where most would fear to tread. Cliff Robertson, although presented as the central character, feels more like a supporting player, while Atterbury and Bickford are excellent in smaller roles. Frankenheimer doesn’t use as many directorial flourishes as he did in, say, The Comedian, but for a film that’s essentially an exploration of a social problem a more straightforward approach seems appropriate.
The phrase “days of wine and roses” comes from the poem “Vita Summa Brevis” by Ernest Dowson, who also gave us “gone with the wind” and “I have been faithful … in my fashion,” so Margaret Mitchell and Cole Porter as well as J. P. Miller owe him a debt of gratitude. The meaning of “days of wine and roses” in the context of this program can be debated, but I take it as a melancholy acknowledgement of the necessary loss of youthful innocence, which becomes clearer if you consider the entire line: “They are not long, the days of wine and roses.” | Sarah Boslaugh
Spine #: 495
Technical details: 79 min.; B&W; screen ratio 1.33:1; English.
Edition reviewed: DVD (3 discs).
Extras: Introduction hosted by Sterling Hayden for the 1981 PBS television series The Golden Age of Television and including interviews with director John Frankenheimer, writer J.P. Miller, and actors Piper Laurie and Cliff Robertson. The Criterion web site mentions a booklet including an essay by Ron Simon and liner notes for each program but it was missing from the library copy I reviewed.
Fun Fact: Playhouse 90 productions rehearsed for three weeks before airing and that amount of preparation may explain more about why the best programs are so effective than whatever “juice” is provided by the fact that performances were aired live. Actors also had the time to do research for their performances (Cliff Robertson went to AA meetings to prepare for his role), a luxury not always possible on shows with more compressed schedules.
Parting Thought: People who should know say the depictions of alcoholism in Days of Wine and Roses are extremely true to life. I have my doubts (and have some experience in the matter since alcoholism runs through one branch of my family) since the performances seem theatrical rather than realistic to me. Of course alcoholism can manifest in different ways, but is there something particularly universal about the way it is portrayed in this program?
