The genius of this movie is that he didn't come at you right away. The gimmick-laden camerawork is something to marvel at, yes, as is the nails-on-chalkboard score by Clint Mansell and the Kronos Quartet, but the real beauty of "Requiem For A Dream" is the pacing.
Many people had commented to me before I saw this film that it would easily usurp movies like "Trainspotting" and "Leaving Las Vegas" as the ultimate commentary on addiction. That it would rock me and that it'd stay with me, that I'd feel sick and re-invigorated at the same time after viewing. I was more than willing to believe them going into the theatre, but for the first half-hour, a little voice in the back of my head whispered,
"Where is it?"
The first act consists of nothing remarkably vicious. We are introduced to the four principles, we get to know their drugs, their inter-relationships, etc. We see blink-and-you'll-miss-it cuts one on top of the other, which do, to some degree, warp your mind a little, but nothing on the level of a "Midnight Express" moment.
Aronofsky is obviously a fan and a student of good movies. He knows the rules, and is smart to not indulge himself by breaking them when he makes his own movies. It would be easy to attack an audience with ideas, but in this, only his second feature, he really only lets the characters' actions be the attack *until* the last fifteen minutes, when he puts down his restraint and declares absolute war.
At times, the last act of "Requiem for a Dream" feels like the cinematic equivalent of a tommy gun, blasting you down before you have a chance to get up. Seeing it, it often resembles the film montage showed during Alex's rehabilitation in "A Clockwork Orange". Colorful, compelling, and original, the entire film as a whole will stay with you for a very, very long time, even if you don't think so for the first half-hour. The director unleashes an assault on your opinions about addiction and may very well make you question the very fabric of your own sanity the next time you pick up a cigarette or cup of coffee.
A
Many people had commented to me before I saw this film that it would easily usurp movies like "Trainspotting" and "Leaving Las Vegas" as the ultimate commentary on addiction. That it would rock me and that it'd stay with me, that I'd feel sick and re-invigorated at the same time after viewing. I was more than willing to believe them going into the theatre, but for the first half-hour, a little voice in the back of my head whispered,
"Where is it?"
The first act consists of nothing remarkably vicious. We are introduced to the four principles, we get to know their drugs, their inter-relationships, etc. We see blink-and-you'll-miss-it cuts one on top of the other, which do, to some degree, warp your mind a little, but nothing on the level of a "Midnight Express" moment.
Aronofsky is obviously a fan and a student of good movies. He knows the rules, and is smart to not indulge himself by breaking them when he makes his own movies. It would be easy to attack an audience with ideas, but in this, only his second feature, he really only lets the characters' actions be the attack *until* the last fifteen minutes, when he puts down his restraint and declares absolute war.
At times, the last act of "Requiem for a Dream" feels like the cinematic equivalent of a tommy gun, blasting you down before you have a chance to get up. Seeing it, it often resembles the film montage showed during Alex's rehabilitation in "A Clockwork Orange". Colorful, compelling, and original, the entire film as a whole will stay with you for a very, very long time, even if you don't think so for the first half-hour. The director unleashes an assault on your opinions about addiction and may very well make you question the very fabric of your own sanity the next time you pick up a cigarette or cup of coffee.
A