Darren Aronofsky’s 2000 movie Requiem for a Dream is perhaps one of the most harrowing depictions of the cycle of drug abuse ever put on film. Following four main characters – a strung-out drug addict with big dreams (Jared Leto), his supportive but suppressed girlfriend (Jennifer Connolly), his wisecracking best friend (Marlon Wayans), and his lonely, starstuck mother (Ellen Burstyn) – Requiem for a Dream showcases the many different ways in which drug addiction can ruin lives and demolish dreams. Through the use of Clint Mansell’s harrowing score, Aronofsky’s quick-editing techniques, and bravura performances from all four leads, Requiem for a Dream succeeds in its goals perhaps a little too well, selling the downsides of drug addiction in a way that does not quite escape a sense of preachiness and didacticism.
Perhaps the movie’s biggest weakness is in its script, written by Aronofsky and Hubert Selby, Jr., the novelist of the original book on which this was based. On its surface, the structure is quite strong – by alternating between these four characters, we get to see the different ways drug addiction affects their lives. Sara Goldfarb (Burstyn), for instance, gets into drug addiction as an older woman by taking diet pills in order to slim down and look younger; this approach is much more isolated and immediately tragic than Harry’s (Leto) slower descent into heroin addiction. However, the immediate and severe descent into madness, destruction, dismemberment and shock therapy that awaits the characters happens too quickly and too comprehensively to keep the viewer invested in the world at times. While the film’s message about the dangers of drug addiction are potent, the depths of depravity these characters experience by the end (including Connelly’s immediate descent into graphic group-sex prostitution) creates an aesthetic distance that make the characters harder to relate to, and thus harder to feel sorry for. The mechanics of the story’s desire to haunt you with disturbing and tragic images, therefore, become too transparent to truly work as well as they want to.
However, what does elevate the movie beyond its preachiness and the pedestrian nature of the story is the artfulness by which the film is made. Aronofsky’s filmmaking and editing is superb in the film, mixing the drabness and sterility of modern life with bright, flashy, kinetic sequences when the main characters are on drugs. One recurring motif is the use of a montage of flashing images to visually denote when the character is getting a fix – rapid shots show a human pupil widening, fluid filling a syringe, packets being ripped open, etc. to show the unearthly nature of taking drugs. Aronofsky also makes innovative use of the Snorricam – a camera that is strapped to the front of the actor, keeping their head stationary in frame while the rest of the world moves around them in shot. This is an effective tool to showcase the disorienting and alienating nature of the characters’ lives, particularly in the case of Sara’s isolation in her apartment as she grows more delusional due to her drug use and budding senility.
Another important element of the film is its music, which was created by Clint Mansell and performed by the Kronos Quartet. Fitting the oppressive, Greek tragedy-based atmosphere of the film, the main theme of Requiem for a Dream is a harsh, minor-key riff that builds on itself, increasing its sense of tension and conflict to audibly represent the cycle of abuse, addiction and darkness these characters engage in. The eerie combination of Mansell’s electronic, techno-inspired musical elements to the Kronos Quartet’s sustained harmonies links both the harshness and cynicism of the modern world to something much more timeless and deeply melancholic.
On top of these elements, the acting helps to flesh out the four main characters, who at the script level are essentially archetypes, tragic cannon fodder for the film’s events to drag through the mud. Of particular note is Ellen Busrtyn, whose incredible fragility is combined with a sense of enthusiasm and naivete that makes her lapses into senility and desperation all the more emotionally affecting to watch. Jennifer Connelly is also fantastic as the emotional center of the younger group, keeping everything together as Leto and Wayans attempt to make their dreams of making it big come true. The actors do their best to infuse these characters with as much humanity as possible, in order to help ground them in the face of the ridiculous and over-the-top situations they find themselves in. The costumes also help with this, particularly Burstyn’s frumpy nightgown she wears throughout the film. The contrast between that and the red dress (the one she struggles to fit in, representing her unattainable desire to restore her sense of youth and vitality) serves as powerful images that convey the themes of the story.
All in all, despite the weakness of the script, Requiem for a Dream is still a tremendous achievement in filmmaking. Darren Aronofsky is a highly influential and affecting filmmaker, as his other works (Pi, Black Swan, Noah) have demonstrated. Like his other works, Requiem for a Dream is brilliantly stylized and consistent in tone, as Aronofsky uses it to sell the oppressiveness of the life of the drug addict, while also presenting darkly beautiful visuals, a haunting score and innovative editing techniques. With these elements and more, Requiem for a Dream defines itself as essential filmmaking.
Works Cited
Aronofsky, Darren (dir.). Requiem for a Dream (film). Perf. Jared Leto, Ellen Burstyn, Jennifer
Connelly. Artisan Entertainment, 2000.
Domingo, Danlly. "A Requiem for Addictive Personalities." Mercer Street (New York
