Leaving Las Vegas
Directed by Mike Figgis
- drama
- romance
The story
Ben Sanderson, an alcoholic Hollywood screenwriter who lost everything because of his drinking, arrives in Las Vegas to drink himself to death. There, he meets and forms an uneasy friendship and non-interference pact with prostitute Sera.
What it’s like
Washed-out desert light pours through hotel room blinds and the glare of neon bleeds into dim interiors, while Mike Figgis's handheld, deliberately unpolished camera stays close to faces and bottles and rarely looks away. The palette runs to sodden amber, sour greens and the cold blue of pre-dawn motels, and the grain and grime of the city feel lived-in rather than glamorised. Sound is sparse: long stretches of jazz-tinged score give way to ambient hum, rattling ice and the scrape of a chair, so silence carries as much weight as the dialogue. Its vibe is bleak, tender and corrosive, the kind of watch that suits a late night alone rather than anything casual. The pacing is slow and circular, following two damaged people who settle into a wary companionship without any real hope of rescue, and the emotional register swings from quiet intimacy to raw, sudden anger. Intensity is high: alcoholism is depicted in unflinching detail, there is a fair amount of violence and rage, sexual content and sex work are shown frankly, and the ending is grim, so this is far from gentle. It is for viewers who want a serious, adult drama about addiction and love that cannot be saved, performed with restraint and rawness.
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