IT’S enough to drive anyone to drink: the lure of a 30-day stay in a private, beachfront villa where gourmet chefs, private trainers, acupuncturists, sleep specialists and yoga instructors remain on call just for you. All you need to do to qualify is develop a raging alcohol or drug problem (alienating studio execs and fan base optional).
Ever on-trend, Lindsay Lohan has just entered a luxe private rehab called Wonderland – one of a relatively new breed of elite boutique facilities that cater to the famous substance abuser who may be able to envision a future without Vicodin and booze but is in no way giving up 600-thread-count sheets or satellite TV.
And, says one of the industry’s foremost figures, there’s no reason they should.
“It’s not about luxury amenities,” claims Heidi Kunzli, who charges patients upward of $80,000 a month as the founder and director of two of L.A.’s most exclusive facilities, Beau Monde and Laurel Canyon. “It’s about providing what these individuals are used to on a daily basis.”
Part of what “these individuals” are used to on a daily basis is doing what they want, when they want, with little in the way of consequence or repercussions. To that end, these new clinics – which seem nearly indistinguishable from destination spas – are perfect for this personality profile.
Back in November, under intense media scrunity, Nicole Richie checked herself into a medi-spa to address her weight issues. A couple of days later, she checked herself out – “AMA, against medical advice,” adds Kunzli, helpfully – to go shopping. And after a sloppy two-month partying spree that culminated with collapsing at a nightclub on New Year’s Eve, Britney Spears checked herself into the Sanctuary Spa in Arizona to “detox” (though they do offer an extensive wine list) for three days.
Now, after passing out in the hallway at the Chateau Marmont sometime after 6 a.m. Tuesday, 20-year-old Lohan has checked herself into Wonderland – which has such a relaxed approach to rehab that patients are allowed to leave to attend birthday parties, weddings and other events where alcohol tends to be an integral part of the proceedings.
Lohan herself will be leaving Wonderland every morning to go to the set of her new movie, “I Know Who Killed Me” (the producers of which are rumored to have forced her into rehab), and returning every night after work – which leaves not much time for the rather intensive counseling and therapy most addicts undergo.
All of which strikes traditional recovery specialists as indulgent – and counterproductive.
“Eric Clapton’s [Crossroads] facility doesn’t even allow patients to make phone calls – the idea is that you need to be super-focused on the task at hand,” says New York City-based addiction psychiatrist Dr. Carol J. Weiss.
However, Kunzli says that celebrities – with their narcissism, high levels of creativity and standard of living – require not only a paradigmatic shift in living quarters but in treatment itself. She maintains that programs like Alcoholics Anonymous and Betty Ford
(where patients are assigned roommates in Spartan rooms and attend group therapy) are, in a word, downmarket.
“For the addict in the street who has nothing, that works beautifully – because they have nothing, period,” Kunzli says. “Our approach is for the very successful person – what I call ‘the power elite.’ ”
Bill White, considered by many in the field to be the among the country’s foremost addiction specialists, finds this philosophy to be “a gross misrepresentation.” He pauses. “Show me one piece of scientific data that supports that statement. There isn’t any.”
In fact, according to White, such centers are not new, and Kunzli is hardly the visionary she claims to be: “There has always been a market for high-end treatment, going back to the 1800s,” he says, pointing to the Keeley Institute, which had more than 120 facilities throughout the U.S. and Europe.
White adds that such facilities were highly controversial, administering mysterious medications and dubious cures – one of which, the double bichloride of gold cure, was reported to have killed some patients and driven others insane. “They were also accused of aggressive marketing tactics and financial misconduct,” he adds.
It is the more traditional approaches, White says – 12-step programs such as Alcoholics Anonymous and cognitive behavioral therapy – that still get the best results. And White points out that the program with the highest rate of success is the Physicians Health Program, which follows the 12-step model and treats addicted doctors and medical professionals (possibly the only people in the nation with easier access to painkillers than Lohan). “Their success rate is 70-90 percent – the highest rate in the country,” he says.
As for the possible deleterious effects of a luxury setting and a sycophantic staff, White remains neutral: “From the standpoint of science, we don’t know,” he says. “We just don’t know. These places haven’t been studied and evaluated, and they haven’t evaluated themselves.”
But addiction psychiatrist Weiss is far more alarmed by Lohan’s facility of choice: “She’s in Wonderland?” she asks incredulously. “Oh no! I just had a patient in Wonderland. I was a little concerned about that, because it wasn’t an established place.” Her patient’s prognosis? “Um … well, it’s to be determined.”
Weiss says that although some in her field feel that luxury and coddling are antithetical to the work involved in recovery (i.e., behavior modification and the removal of distraction and temptation), she has no problem with it: “If lovely sheets and lovely food get someone into treatment, God bless it. The issue of watered-down treatment, however, is a big question and a slippery slope.”
Kunzli, however, believes that a new model of recovery – one that caters to her “power elite,” rather than challenges them – offers not only the best chance at success, but will, like Reagonomics, have a trickle-down effect that will help the lowly proles realize their own potential.
She relates an epiphany she recently had while watching the E! channel: “Paris Hilton was on, wearing this Gothic ring, and they were talking about how all these teenage girls had run out and bought it. And I thought: If I could get to Paris Hilton and give her what was given to me – a serenity stone that I keep in my pocket; it keeps you connected spiritually – can you imagine if Paris Hilton went on TV with a serenity stone? What that would do to promote wellness in the world?” She pauses.
“That’s what I’m after.”