To kick off Tribeca’s Reunions and Retrospectives screening of 2000’s Requiem for a Dream, director Darren Aronofsky was presented with the prestigious “Made in NY” Award. After accepting it, Darren didn’t have to say much to introduce this now-iconic drama, other than: “Requiem is about to fuck you up.” No truer words could have been spoken. I will never forget the first time I saw this powerful anti-drug movie, probably a bit too advanced for a little fourteen-year-old movie-obsessed youth to be watching. It was certainly a far greater tool to emphasize the dangers of addiction than the DARE program taught at school. All these years later, and Requiem has always stuck with me, its disturbing images and impactful score permanently seared into my brain. Getting the chance to see it on the big screen for the first time—albeit with Ellen Burstyn, Aronofsky, and Brendan Fraser sitting only two rows behind me in the audience—felt like the fulfillment of a lifelong dream. An immersive cacophony of horrors that transforms any potential vice into a dangerous drug, Requiem for a Dream still feels as essential over two decades after its breakout.
For the uninitiated, scripting duties from Aronofsky and book author Hubert Selby Jr. follow four central characters as their lives are essentially plunged into total chaos due to their addictions to different types of drugs. As each pursue an idealized version of happiness, they fall deeper down a hole of despair that presents an inescapable jet black reality. The sole Oscar nomination at the time was for Ellen Burstyn, stepping into the frumpy visage of loving mother, Sara Goldfarb. Sara, who obsessively watches her favorite television program Juice by Tappy every day, receives a call offering her the chance to be on TV. This concept becomes the driving force behind everything in her life—if she can just lose enough weight to fit into her red dress again, she will be a somebody rather than another anonymous old lady camped out on a lawn chair. Sara’s passionate exchange with her son about striving for perfection is relatable on so many levels. In her pursuit of the ideal weight, a doctor who refuses to make eye contact prescribes diet pills that will change Sara’s life forever.
For the part, Burstyn wore extensive prosthetics, two different fat suits, and nine different wigs. She has previously shared that this remains one of her favorite performances of her career, and frankly, it may be one of the greatest, most transformative takes on aging ever captured on film. In the post-show chat with Burstyn, Aronofsky, and moderator Fraser, she shared that part of what drew her to the role was the idea of extreme dieting. The constant fight with food and striving for thinness was a hellish cycle that personally spoke to her. She also disclosed that this was her first time seeing the movie in twenty-five years. One of the more shocking tidbits here was that Burstyn was not the original choice for Sara, though Aronofsky did not actually reveal who he had in mind instead. Imagining anyone else in this iconic role feels impossible.
Apart from Sara, her son, Harry (Jared Leto), his girlfriend, Marion (Jennifer Connelly), and their best friend, Tyrone (Marlon Wayans), are intertwined. If Sara’s drugs of choice are food and television, this trio are consumed by heroin, weed, and pills. Each time they get high, Aronofsky makes jarring quick cuts to the ingestion method of the drugs and the pupils expanding. Sound design aids in this angle, creating an entirely immersive, purposeful assault on the senses. Marion and Harry stage rooftop break-ins and host nonstop parties, and when Tyrone comes to them with the prospect of drug distribution, they cannot resist. Big risks means big money—exactly what they need to buy a storefront, and get a jumpstart on their lives. The standout in this group is Connelly, who had done many projects but was mainly known for 80s classic, Labyrinth. Her Marion has the most depth and certainly the most privilege of the group, yet she commits acts that go beyond desperation. Selling her body to support a drug habit completely fractures her relationship with Harry.
Surreal flashes of hallucinations and flashbacks help put us into the headspace of these characters. Tyrone strives to make his mother happy, imagining himself as a child in her embrace. Harry deeply loves Marion, envisioning a neverending stretch of dock with her at the end. Marion spends time working on clothing design and stitching things together, a clear talent that a sober version of herself might realistically pursue. Sara, haunted by food everywhere she looks, eventually gets so high on her speed-laced diet pills that she hallucinates a live TV set, a static idealized version of herself, and a ferocious hungry fridge. The crazy build of tension leans into Sara’s hysteria, to Marion’s desperation, to Harry losing his grip on his situation. Composer Clint Mansell, with help from the Kronos Quartet, provides a stinging score that is an essential part of Requiem‘s DNA. The main theme, “Lux Aeterna,” could be considered a pinnacle of movie soundtracks, a vital and evocative track that feels akin to having an actual meltdown.
As the energy reaches a crescendo, the place we leave Sara, Harry, Marion, and Tyrone is certainly not a happy one. This is not a comfort watch. There are no happy endings, only disturbing realities. Sara does not make it to TV, but instead has a mental breakdown, and endures grueling and torturous electroconvulsive therapy. Burstyn remarked the filming and very idea of this was especially awful for her given that it was based on real treatment methods. Harry has his arm amputated after a disgusting infection spreads from the needle track marks. Marion falls deeper than ever before into her drug addiction after performing demeaning sexual acts for a room of horny rich men. Tyrone ends up behind bars, forever chasing his mother’s love. Aronofsky’s attention to detail practically attacks the viewer with its messaging, somehow finding a balance between poignancy, tragedy, and deep sadness.
The ultimate lesson here may initially seem to be a simple one: don’t do drugs. The all-consuming nature of any drug can swallow whole its victims if caution is not taken. An image of Sara’s friends embracing through sobs after visiting her in an asylum at the end sent chills down my spine. In later films, Aronofsky would continue to explore themes of obsession (Black Swan), depression (The Whale), and the meaning of life (The Fountain). Certainly, Requiem for a Dream remains a cautionary tale with performances, score, writing, and visuals that harness a raw power. We’ll no doubt still be talking about it twenty-five years from now, “on television” or not.
Requiem for a Dream celebrated its 25th anniversary at 2025’s Tribeca International Film Festival, followed by a conversation with Ellen Burstyn, Darren Aronofsky, and Brendan Fraser.
