Come Back, Little Sheba

Burt Lancaster, Shirley Booth, and Terry Moore shine in this very fine flick. In watching it, if you know anything at all about denial, projection, alcoholism, and Alcholics Anonymous, this is a wonderful telling of the psychological and spiritual truths behind the disease. Certain attitudes and comments, projected so well by both Booth and Lancaster, along with the innocent bystander Moore, are dead on. The activities of the men who come to deal with Lancaster while he is in his cups are straight out of the "Big Book". And the resultant coming to grips with the thing, a turn around in out look, are perfect examples of "progress, not perfection" and "having had a spiritual awakening". For the plot, the great acting ability, the talent both in front of and behind the camera, and, for me anyway, the psychology of the thing, it just doesn't get much better than this.

Shirley Booth is so convincing in this movie that it makes me think she was wasted in cinema because she was never given an opportunity to display her magnificent talent. She is completely heartbreaking in the movie and deservedly won the Oscar, over such heavyweights as Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. Burt Lancaster is great also but its Shirley's show all the way and she does not disappoint.

This is an interesting study about the trials of people dealing with disappointment and alcoholism. Lost dreams have been Doc's excuse for turning to the bottle, and a lost little dog (Sheba) symbolizes his wife's search for herself.

The film based on the play is an early study of the pain of addiction. As Doc tells his wife, "Dreams are strange." There is redemption in the fact that Doc asks for forgiveness as his wife regains her sense of dignity.

Booth gives a very believable performance, and Lancaster is excellent playing a man far older than he was at the time. This is a touching, though simplistic, look at the dark side of human nature.

Days of Wine and Roses and The Lost Weekend deal with the problem of those afflicted with Alcoholism. Both are fine films. This movie is better than those two and that's only part of the story in this picture. Shirley Booth gives a most certainly well deserved Academy Award winning performance as the wife of a recovering alcoholic husband. Burt Lancaster in a role he is not often remembered for is the husband. A once proud and respected person who falls by the wayside due to his drinking has picked himself up and is determined to start over again even though various demons still linger inside him. I first saw this motion picture on New Years eve back in the late 60's on NBC's Saturday Night at the Movies. During the week preceding the showing NBC advertised it with the clip of Lancaster going after Booth with a kitchen knife. My older sibling and I not really old enough to know about such things joked about the scene. When we watched the movie and it came to that part we were no longer joking. I didn't see it for many years until it aired on AMC. The film is as powerful today in its story and it's acting performances as when I first saw it and I'm certain when it was first released in 52. A must see.

William Inge's play transfers nicely to the big screen, with perfectly cast leads Shirley Booth and Burt Lancaster.

A middle aged, childless couple struggles with the husband's periodic alcoholic "episodes". When they rent out a room in their house to a young college girl, the audience learns a lot about the couple just by observing their reactions to "the young people". "Doc" Delaney exhibits fatherly, protective feelings toward the young woman, expressing disgust when she brings a young man to her room. A regular at AA meetings, he eventually "gets sick" again. Determined never to give up, his devoted wife Lola stands by her man. The ending leaves us hopeful that all will turn out well.

There are many beautiful moments in this film, assuring a lover of tearjerkers a full pay-off! Shirley Booth deserved her 1953 Oscar for her portrayal of Lola Delaney. Oh, and don't look for little Sheba, she won't be back.