Flak Magazine: Review of Requiem for a Dream, 11-3-00

Judging from its subject matter (addiction) and its trio of young, attractive stars, it would be easy to write off Requiem for a Dream as yet another movie where pretty young things lounge about, sticking needles in their arms and gazing skyward to the throbbing pulse of the year's best soundtrack.

But that dismissal would be dead wrong, for Darren Aronofsky's (Pi) second film is a staggering, realistic portrayal of fractured love and broken dreams.

Simply put, Requiem for a Dream, based on the novel by Hubert Selby Jr., follows four Brooklynites through their struggles with addiction and quests for their dreams. Sara Goldfarb (Ellen Burstyn, in an Oscar-worthy performance) is a widow living in an empty house. She fills her day with TV and chocolate. Her chance to escape her lonely, caloric routine comes through a chance to be on one of her favorite shows.

Her son, Harry (Jared Leto), his girlfriend Marion (Jennifer Connelly) and best friend Tyrone (Marlon Wayans) dream, too. The three casual heroin users are looking for a pound of uncut heroin, which they plan to use to bankroll their wildest fantasies. For Harry and Marion, it's a shot at opening a clothing store to hawk fashions designed by Marion. Tyrone's goals are less concrete — he's looking for a replacement for his mother, who died when he was a boy.

For awhile, it seems as though the characters may win out. But this is a movie about addiction, and unlike past heroin-has-its-upside-too movies, Requiem carries no such pretense. It's a stark, depressing film whose impending tragedy is obvious from the first few minutes when Harry pawns his frightened mother's TV for dope money.

And Aronofsky's deft camera work — filled with rapid cuts, split-screen shots and extreme close-ups that go all the way down to individual cells in the characters' bodies — provides the perfect lens through which to view the characters' desperation. These people are addicts, first to their impossible dreams, and later to controlled substances. Sara becomes hooked on the diet pills she takes to lose weight for her sure-shot tube appearance, while the three youngsters say they're just shooting up to see how much they need to cut the heroin before they resell it.

But for all of Selby and Aronofsky's first-rate allegory (the characters' pursuits are really just stand-ins for that age-old notion of the American dream), there just isn't enough room to cram this rich a novel into a 102-minute movie. Character definition suffers slightly, with Harry being lowest on the depth chart. Even though we see a lot of the talented Leto, it would be nice to know a bit more of Harry's backstory.

But this is a minor complaint. The sights and sounds of Requiem for a Dream leave Aronofsky's contemporaries at the starting gate, scratching their heads. Characters on the television wink out and appear in Sara's living room, holding aloft her furniture and mocking the low-class lifestyle she struggles to maintain. And Clint Marshall's (ex-Pop Will Eat Itself) stunning score combines electronic beats with the Kronos Quartet's sumptuous strings.

But Requiem's sound goes much deeper than its music. Not since Fight Club has a film made such effective use of the modern movie theater's ability to assault the eardrums. In Requiem's more surreal moments, Aronofsky's symphony of sirens, syringes and screaming television audiences surges forth from one direction, only to recede just as quickly before a new sound rushes in from another side. Surprisingly, the rapid-fire sound editing enhances the movie's jump cuts rather than muddles them. Nowhere is the aptness of this marriage more apparent than in a scene where Harry tries to make peace with his mother midway through the film.

Hopped up on her amphetamine diet pills, Sara shuffles madly through the kitchen, refusing to sit down as the audience (and Harry) hears the faint grinding of her teeth — the hallmark of a speed freak — coming subtly from all sides. Sara's chemical exuberance makes an unlikely complement to Harry's frantic attempts to figure out where that awful sound is coming from. It's simultaneously chilling and heart-wrenching.

That same scene is also Burstyn's best shot to remind movie-goers why she won an Academy Award for Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore, as she tearfully tells her son why she wants to be on television.

"What have I got," she asks. "Why should I even make the bed or wash the dishes? ... Your father's gone. You're gone. What have I got?"

This isn't just depressing eye candy. Aronofsky's four principal characters are virtually flawless. While this is no surprise for Burstyn and Leto (American Psycho, Fight Club), Marlon Wayans and Jennifer Connelly's performances are a surprising treat. After watching them in Scary Movie and The Rocketeer, who knew?

Obviously Aronofsky did, and for that, moviegoers can be grateful. Requiem for a Dream is that rare movie with everything: great story, terrific acting, dazzling special effects and an amazing score. Be warned, though. This one's a downer.

It's such a downer, in fact, that a lot of people will hate this movie. The characters, though likable, are put through the wringer, and the climax is so over-the-top, explicit and unforgettable that those with delicate sensibilities will feel dirty for days. By the end of the film, Aronofsky's fetching young actors look like the walking dead. Add to this Aronofsky's jarring, sometimes seemingly repetitive (there's a point to this, but it's not obvious) camerawork and you're left with a movie likely to make Sen. Joe Lieberman writhe in his chair.

— Eric Wittmershaus (ericw at flakmag dot com)