28 Days
by Sasha Stone

Sandra Bullock Gets Sober in 28 Days (***)

Addicts who burn the candle at both ends rarely last the night. Some of them get lucky enough to hit rock bottom before the real bottom drops out. And it's off to rehab they go. Such is the often-tackled theme of 28 Days, a "getting sober" film along the lines of Mike Nichols' Postcards from the Edge.

After crashing into someone's house too drunk to see straight, Gwen (Sandra Bullock) is given the choice of enduring a bunch of "twelve-stepping morons" in rehab or getting raped with a plunger in jail. She chooses rehab, but is shocked to find out she's not at the rehab in the city but rather a cozy, nature hideaway where the residents chant and sing, where they don't allow you to have coffee (mood-altering) and where you are required to talk about your feelings ad nauseum.

At first Gwen resists the getting sober part, preferring instead to distance herself from everyone in the hopes of being able to sneak in drugs and alcohol, do her time and get back to party town. But once she hits bottom again, this time trying to climb down a tree to retrieve some pills she'd thrown out in a moment of strength, her wings are clipped for good. It is time, she discovers, to get clean.

Of course, getting sober means confronting the reasons she got drunk in the first place - to shut out a painful past, specifically, being left to be raised by her older sister after their mother killed herself on a drunken binge. We're shown these scenes through skillful montage that plays like home movies, an especially nice touch by director Betty Thomas.

The first half of the film, which feels too expository, is saved by the snappy dialogue by Susannah Grant (Erin Brockovich) and unexpectedly funny performances by supporting players, like Azura Skye, playing Gwen's 17-year old heroin addict roommate, Dianne Ladd and Secrets and Lies' Marianne Jean-Baptiste. But the second half of the film, once Gwen agrees to sober up, is as involving as it is entertaining.

What is perhaps most surprising is that Gwen is given the chance to live as a woman on her own, even though she has a love interest in rehab (Viggo Mortensen), and a fiancé, (Dominic West). Her sobriety depends upon her willingness to lose those people who threaten to drag her down, and her success depends on her ability to survive without them. If she had ended up with either man the film would have lost everything. As it is, written by a woman, directed by a woman and starring a woman - a clear-cut declaration of independence.

Betty Thomas (Dr. Doolittle, Private Parts) has proven herself with comedy, but now shows much promise with drama as well, creating a good rhythm to 28 Days that gets serious when it needs to, but keeps things light and lets Bullock take the lead. The key moment that proves Thomas' real skill and obvious depth is the cathartic scene between Gwen and her sister (Elizabeth Perkins), showing Gwen looking at the camera but away from her sister, while also having the sister facing out so that they are both facing the same direction. If she had blown that scene the film would have deflated on the spot. As a UCLA director once said, you can't screw up the key moments, even if the rest of the film sucks.

28 Days, of course, doesn't suck, and ultimately belongs to Sandra Bullock. She's as watchable as Julia Roberts, but more versatile, drawing a clear distinction between her character drunk and sober. This is a slight stretch for Bullock, not quite Jennifer Jason Leigh territory, but not girl-next-door either.

Bullock appears to be getting better as she goes along, choosing deeper, more challenging roles. While her audience won't let her totally abandon her every-girl icon status (second only to Julia Roberts), she is ever so slowly breaking away.

28 Days is about having the strength to take life as it comes, to not run away when it gets tough, and to ask for help when you need it. We are all left to wonder what will happen to the characters after rehab. Statistically, only 3 out of 10 will end up staying sober. This is the story of the one that has the best chance, a dubious distinction but a distinction nonetheless.