Requiem For A Dream

BigSugar — Fri, 26 Sep 2008 10:05:50 +0000

Anybody else here have the desire to cum all over Pink's face? No, nothin' to do with the movie, just lookin' to see how far I've strayed from the pack's all.

Here's the deal; mother, son, best friend and girfriend descend into hard-core drug addiction on Coney Island. Talking refrigerator, teeth-grinding, arm-sawing, ass-to-ass mayem ensues.

Pi was Aronofsky's shot across the film-going bow, but this fucker was a direct hit. Imagine Trainspotting without the humor and you're close. Not that there's not some funny shit here, it's just that it's buried so deep in irony that any laugh you may manage to get will be squashed pretty quick. The film starts off with the beloved Goldfarb son stealing his mom's T.V. for the umpteenth fucking time and selling it for dope (the short exchange with the guy who buys it is fantastic; it ends with the declaration that the mother needs her son, "like a moose needs a hat rack"). It al goes downhill from there. In a bid to loose poundage, the matriarch gets hooked on uppers, while her son, his girfriend, and his best chum drink deep from the heroin well. It all ends in tears and chaos.

The 90's brought that great urban legend of heroin chic, and this film is a calculated, blistering answer to that fucking shit. These people's lives suck at the top of the overture, and Aronofsky spares us nothing in the slow burning of each soul. The best part, the shit-'n'-giggles, is how the interrelations between the characters serve as the catalyst for their collapse. The son can't deal with his mom becoming a junky, so he turns to- you guessed it- dope. Jennifer Connelly, lovelorn for this douche of a son, follows him down the rabbit hole of One Big Score, as does the Wayans kid (who turns in a damn fine performance here). The final act of all of this is just too fucking sick to spoil.

The film is packed tight with top-notch performances and a script that allows the actors to stretch. But make no mistake, this is Aronofsky's show. Top to bottom, the work hometeam put on film is superb. Camera moves, editing the whole nine yards is fucking rock star. Kid's dick must be the size of a fucking elephant leg, 'cause there's not one safe play in this whole thing, from leaning on Jared Leto for the emotional core of the movie to the abasolutely stunning score put together by Kronos Quartet. If this one hasn't crossed your radar, lock up the booze and valium, toss the razor blades, and park the car down the block, a safe distance from the garage. This one will fucking get to you.

Get it and love it.

Save Yourselves,

'Nuff Sugar

Darren Aronofsky

Requiem For A Dream