BEST OF THE DECADE - #7: Requiem for a Dream

Requiem for a Dream (2000). Dir. Darren Aronofsky. Written by Darren Aronofsky Hubert Selby Jr., based of the novel by Hubert Selby Jr. Starring: Ellen Burstyn, Jared Leto, Jennifer Connelly, Marlon Wayans. NC-17 (intense depiction of drug addiction, graphic sexuality, strong language and some violence). Theatrical release was R and featured a less graphic sex scene, but is available as "Unrated" on DVD in its original form. Running time: 102 minutes.

Beginning in elementary school, anti-drug campaigns teach children to memorize long lists of drug symptoms without ever allowing students to fully understand the real-life consequences that these campaigns attempt to prevent. The problem, of course, is that these efforts, valiant though they may be, can only describe in words what must be seen and felt. Requiem for a Dream brings to frightening life the horrors of its characters’ lifestyles by immersing us emotionally and psychologically in their lives. Director Darren Aronofsky and editor Jay Rabinowitz compose the film in such a way that recreates the various subjective states and internal thoughts of its characters, and moves us quickly along their inevitable decline over the course of the three seasons that divide the film into three chapters. The film is a startling and disturbing experience, delivering a potent anti-drug message that worms its way into our minds and is difficult to forget.

From the opening scene, Requiem’s stylish editing calls attention to itself. Without any set-up or introduction, the film begins with Jared Leto storming into his mother’s apartment to steal her television and pawn it. His mother (Ellen Burstyn) locks herself in her room and the screen suddenly divides and becomes a split screen. The scene continues seamlessly, but we’re now both inside and outside the room at once, viewing the action on both ends. Each of Requiem’s subsequent editing tricks offers similar insights into multiple perspectives, although they frequently do so for more subjective states of mind. Aronofsky begins by using sped up visuals to illustrate the euphoric effects of various narcotics, but as dependence and withdrawal kick in, scenes slow down, change in color and abruptly cut depending on the context of the scene. Though Aronofsky employs a wide range of effects, each is carefully chosen to best evoke the symptoms the characters.

The film frequently uses montages to expedite the decay of its characters’ lives, and indeed one could even argue that the whole film is a montage, it moves along so rapidly. The final twenty-five minutes, making up the “Winter” chapter, are a blitz of intercutting that visually ties the fates of its four characters together, all the while accompanied by Clint Mansell’s heart-wrenching score. Shorter sequences in the film highlight the rituals and preparations of drug habits, dividing the steps of popping pills and shooting up into brief cuts.

Requiem’s style, however, is only a tool Aronofsky uses to better tell the story. The film gets inside our heads by recreating the small moments of our lives that only the most observant of films depict. The Burstyn scenes in particular reveal how the innermost workings of our minds function – how we only notice the No’s in a diet book (No sugar, No butter, etc.), how we play out fantasies in our heads, how we eagerly anticipate a letter in the mail. These scenes, dramatizing an addiction to diet pills, show how drugs can touch anyone, and make a strong parallel storyline to the more familiar scenes of illegal drug dealing. By breaking the film down into succinct moments, Aronofsky limits the amount of time for exposition and characterization, which allows the characters to function on an almost symbolic level. The characters become archetypes that we may fill in with our own mothers, friends and loved ones. Once we do this, Requiem’s goal becomes clear – to force us to imagine awful scenarios we would rather not think about, but should, if only to understand the horrors of a drug lifestyle gone wrong.

As an anti-drug message, Requiem for a Dream represents an extreme scenario, but never feels as if it’s preaching or being overdramatic. The film’s impact comes less in its finale – brutal and unforgiving as it is – than in following the anxiety and desperation that lead to this finale. Aronofsky uses sophisticated filmmaking techniques to evoke our innermost fears and bring out the darkest corners of our emotions. While hardly a pleasant experience and occasionally outright difficult to watch, Requiem for a Dream is undeniably powerful in a way few films are.

- Steve Avigliano, 2/4/10