"It'll all work out.  You'll see already.  In the end it's all nice."  --  Sarah Goldfarb to the ghost of her late husband

     So says the mother who will soon be hooked on diet pills.  Sarah Goldfarb is a truly unforgettable character.  As played by the great Ellen Burstyn, Goldfarb is blowsy, dryly funny, as serious as can be, pleasant, worrisome, caring about her family, and -- above all -- scared about the future.

     Tyrone C. Love, as played by nod-worthy Marlon Wayans, is a pungent criminal who loves his mother.  He loves his mamma and remembers the days when he used to tell her so.  The last time we see Mr. Love he is in prison going through heroin withdrawal, cuddled up in the fetal position.  The film reaches a certain greatness with the final image of Love cuddling with his mamma superimposed over the harsh reality of Love in jail.

     The story begins in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn and summer is in full swing. The two buddies Love and young Harry Goldfarb (a skeletal Jared Leto) are desperate for a fix and decide to pawn a television that belongs to Mrs. Sarah Goldfarb.  The pawn shop owner says to the two buddy junkies "Whoopi-fuck the table, too."  When Mrs. Goldfarb stops by in the late afternoon to retrieve her coffee table and television the pawn shop owner says "Hello, Mrs. Goldfarb.  Mind if I ask you a question?  How many years we known each other, honest to God.  Why don't you tell the police already, maybe Harry won't be stealing no more the TV."

     "I couldn't do that!  Harry's my only child...  he's all I have.  Thank you, Mr. Rabinowitz," Mrs. Sarah Goldfarb says in response to the pawn shop owner's rhetoric.  Soon Mrs. Goldfarb is at home in her cozy apartment getting cozy with some fine chocolates.  Fine chocolate is her fix, next to her much-prized television set of course.  Fine chocolate is more like an indulgence one could say.  The television is Sarah's real drug of choice.  That and coffee.  Ancient water as well.

     When we first see Marion in Darren Aronofsky's Requiem for a Dream, she is portrayed by the ravishingly voluptuous Jennifer Connelly -- and she is standing on grass so green one has to check the color settings on the television.  Soon she is accompanied by Harry Goldfarb, who has a newspaper in his back pocket to make their paper airplanes that they are going to throw from off the top of an old persons' home.  No joke, seriously...  the two mischievous souls meet on the green and then they harass the retirement complex's concierge.  Then they make their way up the elevator, on lipstick camera no less, to the top floor.  Then they put some chewing gum on the emergency door lock.  And make their way toward the excellent view of Coney Island, New York.

     The film begins with a split-screen showing mother and son in the desperate throes of day-to-day coping. Before this masterful split-screen, Aronofsky introduces an infomercial guru character named Tappy Tibbons.  Tibbons's mantra is "30 days...  No red meat, no refined sugar, no orgasm."

     The first rule, no red meat, is the one that this fitness guru really means as far as dietary choices go.  That includes pink meat or pork.  Processed foods are no good as well.  And as for the no orgasm...  that is just on the DVD...  not the film...  so disregard.

     Toward the beginning of the film lies a beautiful image of the sun and the boardwalk in Coney Island.  The image of the Sun and the two buddy junkies rolling the table over the boardwalk and through the neighborhood is rather gorgeous to regard.  I once played Daft Punk's One More Time over this scene, to astonishing effect.

     Yet another shot of the two buddy junkies strolling underneath all the lights overhead is one more visual to look for.  As well as the two just strolling through the neighborhood in Brooklyn near all the window shoppers.  The image of a water hydrant straight out of Spike Lee's classic Do the Right Thing, along with the unforgettable sight of the now gone Cyclone rollercoaster (which exists only in memories and photographs) are two more gems to look for.  The musical score by Clint Mansell (accompanied by the Kronos Quartet) is nothing short of phenomenal.  The tones conjured by the film's music are bewitching and hypnotic.

     Electro-convulsive (electro-condusive) therapy and diet pills get a thorough treatment as well.  It is rather a graphic horror to regard the scene toward the end where (spoiler alert) Sarah Goldfarb receives ECT while hospitalized for psychiatric reasons.  The doctor said that "We tried several medications.  You don't seem to be responding.  I believe we might be at a point where we might want to try some alternative methods.  We've had excellent results...  with ECT in the past...  so if I can just get your John Hancock we'll get underway."

     One more exquisite tracking shot is set at night right after a massacre occurs amongst some unsavory gang members.  Tyrone C. Love runs through an alleyway with the night sky behind him.  A dog barks.  And soon a corporal on patrol handcuffs Love, who is understandably distraught. 

     The Snorricam technique is used in this scene, as with another when Marion pays a visit to her shrink's apartment.  This is an excellent bit of craftsmanship that involves attaching the camera to the actor.  This, of course, is useful for distancing the character and portraying their state of mind.

     Yet another sublime image is one of young Harry Goldfarb running toward the seductive mirage of a lady in a red dress at the end of a pier.  Then when he reaches his destination, she is gone.  He steps backward and falls behind a black backdrop that represents a pit of loneliness.

     Earlier in the film, Sarah Goldfarb experiences hallucinations while overusing the diet pills prescribed to her.  The mirror image of Sarah on television looking gorgeous shows that Burstyn is "still a beautiful woman and not this wreck of a person who is consumed by herself and consumed by her apartment" (Roger Ebert, Chicago-Sun Times).  It's a towering performance.  When the evil Sarah first enters the apartment in a conga line it is "right out of Fellini" (Matthew Libatique, the film's cinematographer).

     Aronofsky employs more tracking shots that, this time, focus on each of the four characters alone in a room and then...  slowly...  the point-of-view rises to the ceiling.  This is effective for dispatching the characters to their final destinies and shows that while there may be a glimmer of hope, these four people will never be the same.

Tags: Film Review