28 Days

An overexuberant drunk (Sandra Bullock) barbecues her apartment, wrecks her sister’s wedding, and plows a “borrowed” limo into some richster’s lawn jockey; the judge offers jail, or 28 days in rehab. Our tosspot opts for the latter, where she is instantly repelled by an assemblage of chanting, singing, hugging, weeping, bromide-brained god-swallowers. Nevertheless, after the obligatory period of rebellion, she decides “I don’t need any more stories, I need a life,” and attempts to gut out sobriety. 28 Days can’t decide if it’s comedy or drama; it is certainly not serious. To wit, director Betty Thomas employs as cinematographer Declan Quinn, a man who is apparently blind—roughly 35 percent of the film features some sort of boom mike dangling into the frame. Filmgoers jonesing for recovery should rent instead Clean and Sober, or—for the real, 100-proof stuff—Drunks.