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It is said that the hardest thing is to forgive. In reality, it is much more difficult to forgive oneself.
When our guilt drags us into a spiral of darkness so deep that we can no longer distinguish reality from our fantasies, then fortune, chance, or God sends us a person whose love pulls us out of the cave of our selfishness and brings us back to the light.
But our freedom can also make us refuse this love. And the refusal of love has only one consequence: death.
For every striking suicide, there are dozens that no newspaper will ever report. This is precisely the theme addressed in this underrated (and perhaps unknown) film starring a surprising Nicholas Cage (truly intense in some scenes) and a fantastic Elizabeth Shue who, with her extraordinary delicacy, tries to save a Cage on the brink of the abyss, just before he, feeling unworthy of such sweetness, finally succumbs to his self-destructive temptations.
I hope that this review (to which, frankly, I wouldn’t know what else to add) will encourage you to go watch (or re-watch) it; it deserves it.
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By ilfreddo
Nicolas Cage really seems like an alcoholic, with perfectly uncoordinated and clumsy movements typical of a drunkard teetering on the edge of consciousness.
It’s a two-hour agony during which we witness a spectacular downward spiral framed by the deceptive lights of Las Vegas.
