This New Jersey-based boot camp-cum-rehab demands long-term attendance and boasts a stellar success rate. But smoking, caffeine, and all phone calls are strictly banned.

The spartan set-up of this massive Texas facility reflects a certain cowboy ethos, but its clients are more focused on twelve steps than two-steps. Exercise is oddly not part of the curriculum here, but residents receive a solid grounding in recovery and a valuable education in the basics of life.

Traffic fumes aside, Authentic Recovery Center is a haven for addicts seeking individualized care. A capacity of just 12 ensures your path here will be a personal one. 

This choose-your-own-adventure rehab provides a multi-site experience with an equally diverse range of treatments. Whether you find what you're looking for depends largely on the depth of your pockets.

Run by a charismatic rabbi and his social-worker wife, the affordable, much-acclaimed Beit T'Shuvah Los Angeles drug rehab tutors its residents in both Judaism and recovery. But even the goyim come away feeling fulfilled.

Opened in 1982, Betty Ford Center is a fabled California desert rehab facility still considered by many to be the grand dame of rehabs—although it's a bit old-school in its approach.

Caron's hilltop HQ treats teens and adults in a New England boarding school atmosphere—discipline included. But if evangelical rallying cries and impromptu stage shows prove too much, a free cocktail is just a stroll away.

Casa Palmera offers sun-drenched luxury a stone's throw from the sea (and a few stars). But the one-size-fits-all A.A. approach doesn't always go down as well as the homemade peanut butter.

Cirque Lodge offers clients long nature hikes, mountain-top helicopter rides, free hairdos and fine cuisine on a breath-taking compound in Utah. And while some consider this rehab a tad too conservative, for others (like Kirsten Dunst) it ranks among the top treatment centers in the country. 

Cri Help may share more than a few characteristics with a prison, but love and care ooze from its pores. It apparently saved Robert Downey Jr.—but beware the laughing liquor clown.