http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0180093/
I had a very interesting conversation with some friends about this film, but at the time, I had watched it some time ago and while it left a strong impression in me, I could barely remember anything — all I had was a flashback of a fridge hopping toward a woman, which I add to the list of “Scenes I Never Thought Would Work Well” alongside the drowning scene in “Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance”. A friend argued the movie’s message is that there’s no hope for addicts – kind of an obnoxious anti-drug propaganda, much like “Fast Food Nation” was an obnoxious… well, that film was just obnoxious, regardless of what it was trying to say. It made me wonder whether director Richard Linklater is actually a member of PETA.
Anyway, I decided to re-watch Requiem with my friends’ points of view in mind and see whether I agreed with anything. But in my opinion, Darren Aronofsky won this argument. I understand their points, I see where they’re coming from and etc., but I felt very different from what they presumably experienced while watching this film.
The story follows four characters – each has a particular dream. The elderly Sara Goldfarb (Ellen Burstyn) loves television and wants to be in it – she receives an invitation to her favorite (and terribly stupid) show, but she won’t fit into her favorite dress, so she goes to a doctor to see about losing weight. Harry (Jared Leto), Sara’s son, wants to set up shop and settle down with his girlfriend, Marion Silver (Jennifer Connelly), whose dream is similar. Their best friend, Tyrone Love (Marlon Wayans) simply wants to be successful in life.
But they all run after the dreams via the “easy way” – drugs. Sara doesn’t hesitate to use diet pills so it won’t be long until she can fit into her beloved dress, and Harry, Marion and Tyrone are all addicted to heroin (Tyrone seems to have that addiction relatively under control, compared to Harry and Marion) and not only that, they decide to sell it so they can gather the money needed to achieve their dreams.
Therefore, Requiem could easily be no more than anti-drug propaganda. That’s where director Darren Aronofsky – also co-writer of the screenplay with Hubert Selby Jr. – escapes that trap by giving his characters distinct personalities and allowing us deep inside their minds. In “Fast Food Nation”, I felt like I was being lectured, with stereotypical characters entering the scene to spit out statistics and leaving, giving space to another idiot wander into the screen and do the same. In Requiem, Aronofsky and Selby Jr. make sure their characters are, first and foremost, human.
Take Sara, for example. She is, basically, an idiot. Spends most of her day watching shit-for-brains programming on TV, and her dream amounts to nothing more than – oh! – being in one of these programs. There is, at first glance, no reason at all to care about her – but as the movie goes on, we see how she doesn’t have the smallest of bad intentions, and that the real reason she wants to be on television is to be liked, to tell everyone about her beloved son, who, in her fantasies, is successful and happy. There’s also Harry and Marion – at first, an inconsequential young couple. As the movie goes on, their relationship is well-developed by the script, showing the couple in their more intimate moments. Aronofsky dives right into their dreams, like in the beautiful scene Tyrone fantasises about himself as a child, telling his mother “See, mom? I told you I’d make it.”
Choosing to portray their downfall simultaneously, Aronofsky divides the movie in seasons and cuts back and forth between the characters. We see them develop their dreams, live it for a little while, then make all the wrong choices and watch it spill like water through their fingers (and please don’t shout SPOILER, just read the film’s fucking title). What sets Requiem above the label of “cautionary tale” is that, had the characters been more careful, they COULD have made it. They all experience their dreams of success – and then they realize they want even more, and fuck it up royally.
Have you noticed I haven’t mentioned drugs for two paragraphs now? It’s because they almost take a backseat to the characters and elevate this movie into a character-driven drama instead of mere propaganda. The cast is at their very best here. Jared Leto surprises especially in a scene inside a taxi, when he cries after seeing the mess his mother is due to the diet pills she’s taking. Jennifer Connelly, aside from being one of the most breathtakingly beautiful women I’ve ever seen, is hugely talented, and her mood swings (depending on whether or not she’s used heroin recently) are believable and intense. Marlon Wayans, in a rare dramatic role, abandons any attempt to be funny and is successful in building his character.
But it’s Ellen Burstyn who stands out, portraying Sara’s decay with depressing accuracy. Her deliriums caused by the pills are heartbreaking, even if she brought it on herself. And the sweetness of her voice when she talks to her son is so genuine it’s hard to dislike her. She’s simple and good-hearted, even if tragically naive.
As director, Darren Aronofsky shows a firm hand and no fear of innovation. Using the same angles on different characters to emphasize how they’re, in essence, all going through the same situation, him and editor Jay Rabinowitz do an impeccable job of cutting, making stylistic choices that, instead of calling attention to themselves, enrich the characters even more. A good example is the slow camera travelling showing Sara throughout an entire day in fast forward, under the influence of the pills. Or the quick-cut close-up sequence displaying the preparation, use and consequence of the drugs.
Aronofsky also proves himself capable of manipulating the audience’s feelings: many directors would fail to make a hopping fridge something to be taken seriously, but Aronofsky pulls it off. In fact, most sequences involving Sara are very well-elaborated and filmed – not that the rest of the movie isn’t.
Ending with a powerful sequence showing the four characters at their very lowest to the sound of Clint Mansell’s magnificent soundtrack, “Requiem for a Dream” didn’t make me feel lectured. It’s a film that messed with my emotions (like most good films) and used drugs not to prove a point, but as a way into the minds of four people and as the instrument of their downfall. The film doesn’t say this is what happens to everyone, it just shows how bad it can get.
