Requiem Series

Over six parts Darren Aronofsky's masterpiece has been dissected through themes and characters. All parts are now here to read...

Part 1 - A Sensory Masterpiece

A spiraling descent into tragedy following the lives of a young man, his best friend, girlfriend and mother.


I've been meaning to cover this film for a very long time, and at long last, here we are. Aronofsky is one of my favourite directors of all time and was the artist that really pulled me into film. Requiem is by far my favourite of his films. I know it sounds a little strange, me liking on of the hardest to watch films ever, but we'll get into why later. Firstly, I just want to re-assert that this is one of my favorite films of all time. It's the picture that really opened my eyes to film, not as a form of mere entertainment, but art. And it's for this reason I'm a huge fan of Aronofsky's work - I mean, my first post ever on the blog was on Pi.

It's also with this post however that I can announce a few things. Firstly, the Playlists page has been updated with more categories that make navigating through posts easier, and will help me focus on providing as wide a range of essays and explanations as possible. What I mean by this is that I can look at the 50s and compare with the 2010s to see imbalances. Moreover, I can also strive to create more playlists that focus on specific genres like romance, or specific artists like Aronofsky. On top of that though I'm opening up a new series for this film alone. I did this for Pulp Fiction and even Dumbo as it allows me to zoom into details, to analyze everything I need to about a film without creating a post tens of thousands of words long. Seeing this and the addition of Quick Thoughts, I think it's apparent that the Thoughts On blog is evolving. Hopefully for the better... but only time can tell.

So, back to Requiem For A Dream. To pick apart this film I will be focusing on the 4 main characters in reverse order of significance and then bringing everything together. That means we'll be looking into Tyrone's, Marion's, Sara's and then Harry's stories. But, before that, I want to delve into the film as a conceptual piece, something we can learn to read film in general a little better from, and, in an around about way, introduce it. Without further ado, let's go...

The style of Requiem is obvious from the get go. There's an uncanny mixture of old and new. This is probably best exemplified with the famous score by Clint Mansell (Lux Aeterna in particular). It's a blend of classical and contemporary genres that culminate in a chilling, yet fluid, pumping, moving piece that perfectly matches the intensifying pace of the film. We also see old and new in the direction. It's the fast cuts, the beating rhythm of the editing and camera movement with use of big and small images that is both timeless and contemporary. This is probably best understood through the montage sequences of addiction (drug taking in many forms). The idea of montage of course pulls way back to Eisenstein with the notorious Battle Ship Potempkin as a best example of the juxtaposition of images to imply meaning as well as insist feeling. What contemporises this is the subject matter and technology. In other words the implimence of pushing off and the use of physiological markers such as cells recepting a drug. And all of this is packaged in a crisp, bright, sound driven frame that pops off screen, that glowers - the texture and cinematography perfectly capturing the grime, the attraction, the dull and the buzz of the characters lives. The best way to clarify this is by looking at a true classic of Hitchcock's:



On top we of course have Kim Novak's eye in the opening sequence to Vertigo, with the bottom being Jennifer Connelly's. Notice how Hitchcock is in control of his frame. He dyes it red implying danger, fear, lust, blood, death. The red dye mutes the screen, intensifying shadow, reducing a human eye to something a little more like this:


The mechanicism in the frame is inherent to Novak's character as she wanders around zombie-like for a large portion of the film. Aronofsky on the other hand saturates colour, making the azure iris pop out of frame. Whereas Novak's character is blinded by fear, by an idea of death throughout Vertigo, Connelly's character, Marion, has physical control, but is a slave to urges. The eye is a very important image throughout the film because it specifies an idea of destiny in tragedy. This is all because it's quite easy to attribute the fall of our 4 characters to external forces such as upbringing, poverty and isolation, but, as is made clear throughout the film and in this image, they start with control. As a film that centres around a downward spiral, it's intriguing to guess as to where and when it all went wrong. You could say the mid-point of the film serves as the point of no return . But, in my opinion, you'd be wrong. This is definitely where things get worse, but all of these characters start off lost. They start off with fundamental flaws in their character that don't flourish, but come to effect over the course of the narrative, allowing Aronofsky to paint one of the most poignant pictures of consequence ever put to screen. It's recognising this that we can see just why the eye is so important, why the framing, the cinematography are so integral to how we see the film. Not only is there the implimence of Marion seeing clearly, of having control over her path, but there is also a sensory input provided by the audience. In short, we too watch. The eye is a symbol of experience, asking us if we can learn where she and other characters have not.

To get into this, we need to pull apart just what art is and how it works. It's likely you've heard (read) me go into this before, but in case you haven't, I'll say it again. Art is most simply a conversation between audience and artist. The words, phrasing, sentence types are all dependant on the medium you're using. For film, your vocabulary consists of colour, movement, cutting, editing, writing, acting, such and so on. In short, you are using a myriad of cinematic techniques to say specific things (we've gone into a few with the eyes above). But, conversation isn't as simple as words happening. There has to be a transmission of language - an understanding - for communication to function. What we then need to question is the space between the audience and artist - the space that 'words' must traverse. This space is quite simply an expressway. It's a fluid solution of emotion. What does this mean? It's quite simple. To produce something, a scene, shot or line, an artist must understand the feeling of it. To contextualise, we can use the opening sequence. The actors, director and writer want to convey a broken family through hostile emotions. This means that Leto and Burstyn set up an emotional power imbalance. Leto is the aggressive son with Burstyn being the passive mother. Quite simply, the emotion Leto uses is aggression with Burstyn using fear. On top of this the set is poorly lit with shadows cast, entrapping the characters. The cinematographer and director here are confining the actors, producing a hostile atmosphere by taking away spaces to escape to. Moreover, Aronofsky utilises split screen to quite simply split his characters apart. We have two sides of a story played out perfectly - and side by side, implying how close the mother and son should be, but simply can't be. To see this played out watch the opening scene with an eye for the artistic inputs of actor, director, writer and cinematographer.

What should be clear now is an idea of artistic intention. Good artists mean to say something with every stroke of their brush, with every movement, shift in the pitch of their voice, change in eye line, with every cut, every nuance of a frame, word, punctuation mark - everything. This meaning can come from an instinctual or pragmatic centre, but is always done with, by and for emotion. Producing art is almost like trying to say how you feel. With acting this is obvious, as it is with writing (though there are minute details that add nice intricacies in both). However, with visual story telling saying how you feel is quite hard as it's difficult to see a room, chair or lamp and see an emotion, to see happiness, sadness, disgust. This is because a director and cinematographer are working with inert, lifeless, unconscious entities for the most part. Humans don't have the capacity to read a chair, or beam light in the same way we do a face. But, still, a director and cinematographer must emote. They do this in two ways. They appeal to us and they imitate us. The best example I've used time and time again for the latter method is in Saving Private Ryan. Spielberg uses the camera to imitate the movement of a soldier through a battlefield. That is why everything is so emotionally intense. We feel like we are at war because we are made to feel as if we are seeing destruction, murder, bombs, tanks and guns from the perspective of a real soldier. To give another example I cite the original Alien. Throughout the film Ridley Scott uses subtle implimence to incite fear. You'll notice that there is almost always something in the foreground when characters are alone. This implies that we are hiding - that we, the camera, are the xenomorph preying upon an unknowing Ripley, Bret or Parker. Moreover, Scott emphasises this voyeuristic idea of horror with the POV shot. The most obvious would be Ripley running down the corridors, the camera taking her point of view is us, being forced to feel her terror, hoping there's nothing behind us, nothing about to jump out in front of us. We've been put in both external and internal perspectives. And it's through imitating observing bodies and central characters that Scott emotes. It's the slow movement of the camera with out of focus gadgets in the foreground that implies malevolence, something sinister. At the same time, it's the flustered, shaken camera movement coming down the corridors, that imbues us with Rilpley's fear. We can see these very techniques in Requiem for a dream - the POV especially. He uses this amongst other techniques to create a emotional and sensory attack. Before getting to that we still need to talk about you - the audience.

The ying to the yang of artistic intent is the audience's understanding. Again, we're cruising the emotional highway here. Our artist has emoted, but this is nothing more than a tree fallen in a dark, empty wood. The best directors, the best writers, the best actors all understand their audience. And who's the best at this? Well, arguably, as a director, it's currently Michael Bay. In terms of acting I think it's best to look at the likes of a John Wayne or Marilyn Monroe, but well stick with directing. Michael Bay quite obviously understands his target audience of teenage boys - just like Stephenie Meyer perfectly understands teenage girls. They know what's cool, what's enchanting, romantic, enthralling, exciting, mesmerising. This is quite easy grip in a basic sense. Teenage boys want dinosaurs, cars, soft-core porn and destruction. Teenage girls... pfff... I won't go there. If you know, congratulations. The point here is that there's surface level attractions that studios strive to innovate, replicate, capitalise on. But, knowing that teenage boys like dinosaurs doesn't mean you're going to make a billion dollars. You could probably make a killer trailer, maybe even a short, but not a feature film. You need a deeper understanding of your audience to do this long term - and I'm not ashamed to say I don't have much true insight here. You could pick apart a Michael Bay film and understand you need action sequences every 15 minutes or so, a complex plot that ensures this and a lot of shiny things to distract us from that plot, but the beats of this are Bay's art. What this all means is that one of a director's (artist's) best tools is their audience - you. This is easiest to see with horror. If I'm honest, not a great genre. Birth to present day, horror has been questionable. The best horror films aren't horror films. They are just films - in my opinion. By this, I mean to point out the likes of Repulsion and The Shining. These are fully fledged masterpieces that stand on the grounds that they are great pictures, not great movies with immense scares or great atmosphere. They have a complete package in other words. We're getting off track though. To understand how a director works with an audience it's best to look at mediocre horror films such as the Paranormal Activity series. Any franchise with 25,000 sequels is a gold mine in fact (I could easily be using Fast & Furious here). If you go into a Paranormal Activity film having seen any of the others, you know there's 30 mins of boring activities in the sunlight and day time with a cruddy well-off family. But, soon the night time footage starts to kick in as we warm up to the first strange occurrence - like... a chair... leaning... creaking... falling... thunk... over... ooooooo... creepy. And before we know it BOOOOM. BOOM. RAAAAAAGG. BOOM. And then the end sequence where bodies are accumulating, shaky, handheld cameras are darting around unfamiliar places, action rising, rising, rising, SNAPPPP. BOM. Fade to black...

An audience knows that this is what they have paid for. Guess what? So does the director, actor, writer. There's no glory hole without a willing dick and an accepting mouth. If there wasn't either you'd just have a confused creep messing with a hole in a wall. Not cool. Now, the Paranormal Activity series is a pretty standard glory hole. We know her pace, the feel of her hand, tongue, cheek. She's accustomed to the way our dick bends to the left just a little and how you have to speed up for the end with a slow soothing release to make sure we're finished to a tee. That was a bit disgusting and I'm sorry. But, you get my point. To further it, we need to imagine a comparatively good glory hole. Better still we need to imagine a surprisingly good glory hole. This is cinema in a nut (excuse the pun) shell. Everyone goes in with expectations, but hopes they are shown something new, different, exciting, original. And to be honest, our expectations are pretty low. We'll take a familiar hand as long as it's half as good as we remember, or at least tries to do something different...


... and it's there that we can drop the talk on dirty unsanitary holes you shouldn't be putting something as vulnerable as a penis in. I really am losing it today. No, Star Wars wasn't that bad - but it wasn't that good. Ok, let's wrap this bit up (this was a really mature post up until this point). By knowing what an audience wants a director can manipulate what they give. They can prolong the lead up to the jump scare, fake one, drop them completely. An artist works best when they are fooling the audience into thinking they are in control, that they have a grip on what's happening...

  

... before ripping the canvas out below them...


... leaving them flat out on their back and gasping for air. That doesn't mean that a director secretly has all the control. It merely means that they're part of the conversation. This isn't always a huge, obvious artist's device though. It can be as simple as the use of darkness, the glimpse of something better, when we know there's still a third act to come. Understanding that, let's, at long last, round off with Requiem For A Dream.

What makes Requiem For A Dream great is it's control over the senses through all of the discussed ideas above. It's the regimented pacing that rises perfectly, intensifies, softens, pulls back and pushes forward, hurtling constantly toward an orgasmic existential breakdown. There's the quote that needs to be on the posters: 'an orgasmic existential breakdown'.  This film hits me so hard because it literally hits me so hard. The first time I watched it, the ending had my heart pounding against my rib cage, I could feel it throbbing across my whole body, and I didn't dare breathe, I just watched and waited for the end, for the credits where I just stared. This works because my metaphorical heartbeat aligned with the pacemaking of the editing and direction of the film - and all of this work off an idea of emotion. The films I love most are the ones that have me in the palm of their hand, but also give me the opportunity to sit back and think about them afterwards. In the end this is Requiem in its entirety, utter emotional control combined with irrefutable artistic commentary.

And that's where I leave you. You know why I love the film, and I've hopefully given you some kind of tool kit to help you pick it apart, to see the way it speaks to you. Over the next few post I'll be telling you exactly what it has to say.

Part 2 - Tyrone

This is second part of my analysis of Aronofsky's masterpiece where we'll pull apart the role of Tyrone C. Love in this story of addictive tragedy.


Tyrone's narrative journey is the simplest, but is nonetheless poignant. It's with Tyrone that key themes and reasonings behind other characters' motives are established and explored. To understand these all we have to do is take a look at his name: Tyrone C. Love. Love is a theme-based characternym that encapsulates his character and conflict. If we take a moment to look at other characternyms we can get a sense of the roles of each individual. We have Marion Silver, Harry Goldfarb and Sara Goldfarb. It's with the latter three characters that an idea of hierarchy, of material, surface-level worth comes into play. This is, in short, because these characters are much more shut-off and emotionally secluded than Tyrone. We'll get into specifics however with their stories in later posts. To bring it back to Tyrone, it's clear from the start that he is the emotional backbone to this story. All of the other characters face physical conflict, they face a tangible, looming ideas of personal fault. Tyrone on the other hand is a peripheral character with peripheral conflict. This in no way means he isn't crucial to the film both in terms of plot and narrative message. To see Tyrone's contribution to the Requiem all we have to do is look to his mother. Everything Tyrone does is fuelled by a promise to his mother that he will 'make it`. Knowing that, it's best we now pull apart the title of this film. A requiem is religious mass, a way of remembering the souls of the dead. This translates the title to: Mourn A Dream. The initial interpretation you'd have of this title is to see it as the definition of the narrative - that what we see is a melancholic insight into addictive spirals. This is a valid enough interpretation as it reflects what we are made to feel - helpless. We are made to watch self-destruction, assisted at times, with no way of reaching out and helping, or even perceiving a way out for these characters. However, I believe this title speaks best not for us, but for the individual characters. In the first part I made the point of destiny, that all characters have control over what they do. Moreover, they start out with inevitable character traits that act as their hamartia - the thing that will kill them. This means that all actions we see in this film are an act of mourning, are an act of wallowing in a poisonous milieu. To understand this, let's look at Tyrone, coming back to the idea that his core conflict is of his mother. As said, he promises to her that he will make it. Her response is: 'all you have to do is love your mumma'. This is Tyrone's conflict in a nutshell. All his actions are metaphorically a requiem for the dream he has for his mother, the memory he has of her.

To truly understand Tyrone's character simply watch this 2 minute deleted scene:


The first time I saw this I questioned how on Earth it didn't make it into the final cut. The answer Aronofky gives on the commentary track is 'because of the timing' as despite it being a 'great scene' and 'important for Marlon's character' it 'ultimately...slowed down the film too much'. This is completely understandable, again, considering the previous post - 'A Sensory Masterpiece'. Pacing and tone are essential to this movie's impact on the audience, and of course Aronofsky most probably knows best (and was in the editing room) so, you can't really dispute the decision. However, the insight into Tyrone's character here is pivotal to understanding what he means to the film. It's in this tiny segment that the film actually completes itself, actually rounds off a crucial detail of all 4 characters. What I'm talking about here is the question of 'why?'. All characters provide reasons as to why they are themselves and why they act as they do. With Marion and Harry we get these confessions when they are alone in their intimate embraces. They, in short, make each other feel good, they make each other feel like a real person or beautiful. What's most important is that they fill gaps. With Sara, her reasoning is given in one of the greatest singular scenes in the film - her monologue. I won't go into details of this just yet, but suffice to say, it's the epitome of 'Requiem'. So, three out of four characters in the final cut get to make their confessions, but Tyrone doesn't. However, we now know that his mother died when he was 8 and is the most intimate and loving memory he holds - which gives reason to his last name: he inherited an idea of 'love' that will stick with him throughout his life. It's knowing this that we should ask of his 'why?'. Why is Tyrone with Harry, does he sell drugs, take drugs, end up in prison? The answer comes back to the idea of gaps and brings in the idea of addiction. All characters have emotional holes in their lives. Sara's is her husband, family, friends, son. Harry's is linked to his father, friends and mother. Marion's is linked to her parents, friends and sexual partners. Tyrone's is his mother. The gap left here is tangible - she died. Whereas Sara fills gaps with T.V, her red dress, food, the other three characters primarily use drugs. This is perfectly demonstrated in this scene with Marion:



And this scene with Harry:



The drugs make them numb, or ignorant to their own depression and personal downfalls. But, Tyrone, again, doesn't really have this moment. This is what makes him seemingly an insignificant character, However, the truth of Tyrone is that he is the most real of all the characters. By this I mean that he is closest to normal, which translates his journey into a peripheral commentary or centre point by which we should compare the other characters (a control or norm test). In this instance, we need to recognise that Tyrone's gaps are tangible, but the expression of them isn't. Drugs are a means to an end with him. His addiction isn't as powerful as it is with the other characters. All he wants is emotional support. This means that whilst Marion and Harry take drugs to forget parents, to forget depression, reality, Tyrone doesn't. His version of this scene comes with his girlfriend, Alice. She is his drug essentially. She is his replacement for his mother - much like Marion is for Harry (but we'll save that for another time). However, Alice doesn't fill gaps like Marion does for Harry and vice versa. She merely soothes pain. This is why she is best compared to the scenes above with this:



To clarify, Tyrone looks into the mirror, probably high, impressed with what his money has bought him before thinking about his mother, giving us the key idea of her only wanting him to love her, before the girlfriend distracts him and the two have sex. What this all means is that Tyrone's problems in life cannot really be solved. Harry and Sara have each other, they just can't connect. The same goes for Marion and her parents. And at the same time, Harry and Marion themselves can't truly get along (in the long term) especially when you bring in their personal issues and drugs. All characters have a conflict rooted in a theme of relationships which ultimately makes them feel alone (as best exemplified with Sara and her monologue). But, the truth is, Tyrone is the only one who is truly alone - he has no family. This is why his gaps are tangible, but his means of filling them aren't. He can't attempt to reconcile a relationship with a family member, or even form a new one with a girlfriend. And this is because of money.

This brings us full circle. Tyrone is told by his mother in response to the notion of making it big, that all he has to do is love her. He is raised with an idea of love and monetary success being two separate things - as almost all of us are (you don't have to give your mother much for her to love you). However, what the world teaches him as he grows up is that your worth is often found in what you have to give. You matter when you have money, when you have a car, a home, trinkets like a sliding mirror. However, when all of that goes away, so does the care, attention, love - Alice. Tyrone taking drugs and selling them is the product of his broken relationship with his mother. She loved him and he wanted to show his love to her by making it - presumably giving her a better home, a better life. When she died Tyrone was left with the latter emotion - he wants success as a means of showing love. This is his Requiem to his past. He mourns his mother with every drug deal, every buck, dollar, wad of cash he makes and saves. It's seeing this play out, Tyrone getting rich, finding love, or at least a representation of it, but then having it taken away that we get this...


... Bicycle Thieves. This is the greatest social tragedy of all time that perfectly demonstrates a cyclic idea of futility inside an impoverished milieu. There are definitely aspects of Bicycle Thieves in Requiem For A Dream, but, the two films aren't exactly the same. The crux of Bicycle Thieves is in the title: it's 'thieves'. Antonio has his bike stolen from him and is led on a journey that ends with him becoming a petty thief himself. Tyrone's mother was arguably stolen from him, but by who? This is where true tragedy steps into this film. There is nothing that Tyrone can fight against but himself. He holds responsibility for his life. He is responsible for everything that happens in this film. That's the sad fact of Requiem For A Dream and is the reason why there are 4 characters with no real antagonists. They are all their own worst enemies, there is no one to blame in this narrative but themselves. It's in this that we can thoroughly understand why the Requiem is for a 'Dream'. A dream is a hope, it's an idea, it's a felling. But, what it isn't is a bicycle that would secure a job, that would feed a family. You could argue here that the drugs are a symbolic bicycle, but to subscribe to that idea is to completely overlook the entire film. It's drugs that catalyse the downfall, that destroy these characters' lives. This is why it doesn't help to appeal to external forces, to an idea of fate or destiny. All characters choose to take drugs, to slip down an easy, but very dangerous path. They don't choose to pick up a bicycle, to work hard, to feed a family, they want to make it big. and do so with little effort and in little time. This is what kills their dream - themselves.

It's with Tyrone that we can see both themes of love and of need, to then also establish that this is a film about personal choice. But, most importantly, it's through Tyrone that we get the clearest idea of futility and a dream to be mourned. Next, we look in on Marion and delve deeper into the film, so stick around for that.

Part 2.5 - Free Will & Responsibility
(Requiem For A Dream/Black Venus)

My most recent post was on the morally and pragmatic labyrinth that is Black Venus. I was inspired to revisit this film by the Requiem Series and the theme of personal choice and responsibility.

  

This is first explicit comparison essay I've done so far, but fringed on the edges of it with Leone's works as well as the essay on Antiheroes and A Clockwork Orange. I've decided to do this because I couldn't fit this last detail into the Black Venus post and because of the expressed motivation behind writing about this film - Requiem For A Dream. The next post I will be doing in that series will be on Jennifer Connelly's character, Marion. Marion among the other characters face a pivotal idea of responsibility, as captured by the image of her eye (discussed in the first post in the Requiem Series).


With a question of responsibility comes an inherent question of, you guessed it, free will. Is human will free? Do we decide?

The simple answer here is, no, of course not.

To understand this you have to face the question of free will head on and ask the question: can you fly? The answer: no. Have you wanted to? Of course. (I'm not talking about planes, so don't be a smart-ass). My point is that you have never been able to just levitate and float up that last flight of stairs or superman it over the traffic because... physics.


What exactly does this have to do with free will? It's simple, people like to think of free will in terms of deciding to think and feel a certain way - making personal decisions in other words. But, when you bring everything back to fundamentals, free will goes out the window.

This is incredibly important as once you go from the fundamental question of flight, of challenging physics, you can zoom into something undeniable. What I'm asking you to do is zoom in, down to the atom, down to quantum physics. Atoms work of their own crazy set of laws that dictate the macro universe we experience. Moreover, we are, as you probably realised, made up of atoms.

If we don't control them, how do we control ourselves?

This is why I pragmatically dismiss the idea of free will. The only counter argument here is of the mind, of some idea of spirituality. Firstly, the mind is the product of the brain. Just look at genetics and hormones - both dictate how we think, feel, grow, mature, perceive and so on with external factors such as upbringing contributing to the process. Secondly... sigh... I'm not going to entertain intangible think-feely ideas of a soul.

The link to film here comes with the idea of law and of religion - it's all to do with responsibility. People appeal to an idea of free will because they want to blame you for the things you do, not have you attribute your actions to some intangible idea or... I don't know... the Spaghetti Monster. The objection to free will on these grounds is insane. Fuck the Spaghetti Monster!


Yeah, I said it! Fuck the Spaghetti Monster!

You can still throw guys in jail or condemn them to hell (if you must) on the basis that the Spaghetti Monster fucked them over and made them rob a bank. If he/she/it controls all of us, then we are equally dictated and should still get rid of the fuck(ed) ups.

So, what's my point? My point is merely that free will doesn't exist. We are guided and controlled by the biological machine that is our body. We nonetheless have responsibility over our lives. This is a pretty dehumanising view of the world, but only of you think that humans are magical, amazing... things. And so to round off, I assert that both Saartjie in Black Venus and the characters in Requiem For A Dream are the crux of their narratives. To find out what this means for Marion, stay tuned...

Part 3 - Marion

Here we are at the half-way mark, the third part of the series, where now we look at Marion Silver's journey through the narrative.


First, a quick note on the poster... hahaha... yeah, thanks to the creator (tchav.deviantart.com/) I guess. I don't know what else to say, speaks pretty well for itself (click on the image to see it in more detail). Anyways, so far we've covered the style of the film and it's emotional backbone, Tyrone. With Tyrone a theme of parental longing is made clear. Whereas Tyrone lost his parents, Marion despises hers. It's through this that we can see a trichotomous relationship between the three younger characters (Harry, Marion and Tyrone) develop. In other words, they all face the same themes of tragedy, but handle them differently. All three have clear issues with their parents and it's analysing who the characters are in respect to this that we can best understand the film. As said, Tyrone is the emotional backbone to this story (and this is where reading his post is important) his Requiem is, as a result, by and for his mother. The dream he mourns is bound to the memory of her. We won't get into Harry's character just yet, instead we'll jump straight to Marion. She is the self-destructive backbone of this story. Whereas the other characters are pretty naive, or overly hopeful in their plights toward bettering themselves, Marion, from the outset, has to be suspended in a non-reality. To understand this all we have to do is look at a few visual metaphors.




Here is the first time we see Marion, and so is (to a director and writer) a very important image. There's a lot to pull apart and infer from the simple juxtaposition of images here. Firstly, let's look at framing of the first image. Marion is dead centre with a medium head shot that centres her eyes. Moreover, she looks up, we look down. Her being central implies balance and control, however, us being above her is slightly diminutive, it squashes her build whilst making her look small. The emotion generated here through cinematic language is of introspection or possibly meditation. She is comfortable in the frame, though lost in it at the same time as if in lost in deep thought. What also needs to be considered in terms of composition is the colour scheme. Everything is washed with sunlight, yet muted ever so slightly as not to be too bright. This allows the greens and the blues to settle amongst one another and Marion's darker hair to emphasise her lighter skin. Again, this draws the audience's attention to the centre of frame, right toward her eyes. This confirms that this visual metaphor is of perspective - Marion's perspective. More than that, the use of green and blue implies a natural tone. The natural atmosphere allows us to infer cleanliness - that Marion thinks clearly and isn't on drugs ( or at least not controlled by them). Furthermore, the fact that the colours have been flattened slightly and desaturated grounds the image, imbuing the frame with verisimilitude. In other words, to boost colour here, to make everything incredibly vibrant, would make clear the fantasy of cinematic manipulation, which Aronofsky doesn't want as he is trying to portray a clear-minded, unaddicted character. (That's not to say that she hasn't taken drugs - just that it hasn't consumed her life yet). It's in this simple image that we learn so much of Marion, but also of the story to come. The frame is here, most importantly, calm. It's muted and immobile, unlike later scenes which are incredibly hectic, hence, allowing Aronofsky to perfectly build that rising sense of action and tragedy over the narrative visually and well as kinetically. From the calm opening shot of Marion comes a reversal, looking up at the apartment block from Marion's POV. There are both negative and positive connotations to this visual. Firstly, the negative. There is a very subtle implimence of suicidal thought here. As we find out later on from Arnold, the shrink, Marion suffers from depression. Could this calm facade as she's looking up merely hide inner-turmoil? Moreover, could this calm frame detail Marion's fascination and comfort with the idea of her own death - her jumping off the building? We can't know for sure, but the interpretation makes sense. On the flip side, Marion could be looking up as a positive metaphor, a metaphor that suggest she thinks of the future and of better things.

What is now key is the next reversal and the final image. Marion, so lost in thought is approached by Harry without hearing him come. This implies that she may be high, but I think it's more sensical to infer she was in deep thought (because what the framing has suggested to us of tranquility and reality). Either way, for Harry to step in over her should implies a lot of things. Is he subconsciously manipulated her? Is this a bad thing? I think it's clear that Harry has influence over her, but not in a negative way. We can understand this by recognising that he distracts her from thought. If he distracts her from negative, suicidal thoughts it's clear that Harry is what makes her happy in this world (as is made clear in later romantic scenes). On the other hand, for her to be distracted from positive thoughts of success could imply that Harry was on her mind and it's with him that she sees a better, brighter future. At the same time however, you could see that Harry is a drug that kills her self-motivation. She stops thinking of the future and only about romance when he is around in other words. This is a valid interpretation, but I think it makes more sense to appeal to the former one of Harry being good for her as he not only makes her happy, but suggests that she does work, that she does design - and he helps her do this. So, it's with this simple yet effective opener that Marion's character is set up. But, what about the self-destruction? Firstly, it isn't that strong of a character traits yet, but, we can see it as dormant for with the next visual metaphor:




Ignoring the elevator scenes and pulling the wire to get a high out of possibly getting in trouble - which is quite telling behaviour of a self-destructive addict/adrenaline junkie - let's look at the scene on the roof depicted here. The clearest way to understand this is through the dialogue. We learn of Marion's parents, who she has been moaning about (as implied by 'why you so hard on your folks?'). She complains that they simply aren't loving as all the have to give is money - no love or affection. Harry then suggests she then get away by opening up that clothes store and earning her own independence. However, this is shot down with a 'I can't' and then 'when will I have time to hang with you?'. Uh-oh. ALARM BELLS!!! I was wrong before! Harry is a drain on her motivation! Well, no, relax, stay calm, he's not. As is clear, Harry brings up the clothes store and later buys one for her, she is the one who denies it and later rips up her deigns. To understand this, it's best to look at the visual side of things. We open with creativity, Marion making the paper aeroplanes. As should be clear, this is a great and very provocative image now. She literally throws her creative representations away, just like Harry, though, Marion is the focus right now. But, if you did want to focus on Harry here, his creative side is supposed to be expendable, that is his intent. He sells drugs, he wants the stuff to drift away from him. Marion on the other hand is creating, with hope, a lucrative, legitimate business with lasting designs. To throws these away, to dismiss her creative side, is what cites her own self-destruction. We have to remember here too that Marion comes into this film with the best start. Not only does she come from money unlike Harry, Sara and Tyrone, but she comes from a lack of responsibility. Yes, Tyrone and Harry are lazy dope fiends (a trait that intensifies) but they are the ones who schlep the T.V around, collect drugs, run the business side of things. This isn't a slight on Marion as a Do Nothing Bitch...


... love Ronda Rousey. Off point. This isn't a slight on Marion (as she does end up doing something - I draw your attention to the poster and 'ass-to-ass') but does cite an idea of responsibility. It's through this then that we have established Marion's Requiem. Marion's Requiem is the clearest definition of the title - it is of a dream. Marion simply wants a better life. She never tries to get herself out of this rut - but wants better nonetheless. It's through this that the visual metaphor of the paper aeroplane deepens. Marion's life and perspective are captured by this image:


Not only is it on an somewhat controlled decent (control implying Marion's responsibility) but it's upside down. This shows the contradictive core of her character, she has reason to be happy, but simply can't find it. It's this irrationality that makes clear her depression, but, what is more important than this is the simple idea of this frozen image. The plane is suspended. Moreover, Aronofsky never shows the planes hitting the ground. It's decent is smooth, controlled, calm. Just like:


What this all means is that Marion is addicted to suspension. This is what makes her character self-destructive. What makes her happy in life is the feeling of weightlessness as she falls toward her demise. It's by sticking with Harry, by taking drugs, that she is initially allowed to feel good as the descent is slow, she even catches an updraft of wind over the first half of the film, but once the decent starts, it has to finish, and the closer you get to splash down the faster you hurtle, the scarier everything gets. And that's Marion's experience as shown through the film in a nutshell. It's the flight and fall of a paper plane.

From this image it's clear that Marion is a heavily dependent person. This is her ultimate hamartia. It's because she needs levity, as given by drugs and Harry, that she has to sink to incredibly low depths of prostitution and exploitation of self. What this brings to the forefront is a concept of social exchange. I talked about this a lot with the Black Venus post and started to bridge a gap with the comparison post on Free Will & Responsibility. This is what I want to solidify with Marion's character. It's clear that in our lives we need people. We need friends and family to give us emotional support and security. At the same time we need governments, education systems, food chains, retailers to provide material support and security. What this makes clear is that we live our lives on two levels. There's the external way of surviving (food, water, shelter) and the internal way of surviving (emotions, feelings, personal well-being). Now, in the second post in the series I made a comparison between Requiem and Bicycle Thieves:


This was a slightly tangential, disconnected comparison to make as both films are social tragedies, but in two different respects. Bicycle Thieves is about conflict based on an external way of living whereas Requiem, especially with Marion's character, is about and internal way of living. Now, just like we need food to survive, we also need our own version of a drug. This is the core idea of Requiem For A Dream. We all have a fix whether it's T.V, food, drugs or watching, writing and writing about films (my fix if you didn't catch that). But, what happens when that fix consumes you? This is where free will and responsibility come into the picture with a later question of empathy. It's tempting to ask where our fixes come from, if we decide them. It's my opinion that no, we don't. Marion needs Harry, she needs drugs and levity because of her parents, because there's internal mechanisms within her that want love, but weren't satisfied. This is, as I've said before, the true task of life. Perception. We do not control the way we feel, just like we don't control physics because we have no free will, but do have the ability to perceive. What this does allow is us to see the chains around us. Not fun. And some people just can't handle this. But, let's bring this back to Marion, Bicycle Thieves and Black Venus. There are intolerable aspects of Black Venus and Bicycle Thieves. And they are the moments in which character's external survival skills are taken away. This is all connected to money, food, shelter. But, connected to this are internal survival skills being wrought and tortured. It's in this that a debate on responsibility and personal strength come into play. When we see people suffer, it's very easy to empathise. But, it gets harder the longer we watch them and the deeper they dig themself into a personal hole. To understand this look at the narrative of Requiem For A Dream. Marion chooses to take drugs, she becomes externally dependant on them due to an internal longing. It's because she is depressed, that she isn't very motivated, that she ends up in the terrible place that she does. And it's having said all of that, that we come to the last visual metaphor of her journey:




This is a quientessent zoom out that perfectly captures everything discussed so far as well as her personal character. We start with internal survival: emotion, the smile. We then move to external survival: money - and whilst distancing ourselves from her character, implying a growing disconnect. Finally, we have a contradiction: despite what she had to go through to get here she is happy. Moreover, she closes herself off from us, completing the disconnect. The end effect of this eloquent line of cinematic language is an... oh... fuck me... (no pun intended). We are put at a loss because there is a fundamental question asked here. That question is: can you empathise? This is a poignant question as not only is the contradiction of her depression brought up, but so is the contradiction of her work ethic and motivation. This is captured by her design work that she has thrown all over the floor. Marion is a character that not only couldn't change, couldn't find happiness, but also took a short cut to get to a low high. It's because of this that I personally find it hard to empathise with her in the end. She, unlike other characters shows no remorse, and truly destroyed herself. If you look at Tyrone's last image...


... it's clear that he has fucked up, and he knows it. Like Marion, all he can do is wallow in this failure, try and comfort himself, but does so without a smile. The same can be said with the other two characters, Harry and Sara. And it's here that Marion's story shuts itself down and we see a secondary tier to Aronofsky's commentary on addiction. However, to explore this in detail we have two more steps to go down.

So, despite rounding off Marion's character there's still a few things about her story left untold. However, all of these ideas are intrinsically linked to Harry and Sara with this image:


As a result, it's here that I unfortunately have to leave you in suspense and waiting for the forthcoming posts...

Part 4 - Sara

The fourth part of the series where we'll analyse Sara's journey from a lonely mother, to a shell of a woman.


Sara has the most painful and significant story line in Requiem. However, her story isn't at the core of this film. The core belongs to Harry, who'll we'll go over in the next part. This is because everything about Marion's, Tyrone's and Sara's life, and the lessons we learn from them, stem into his story. In short, Harry is the protagonist with the most responsibility in this picture. Nonetheless, the most crucial aspect of Sara's story is the presentation of addiction as something not of substance-based need, but emotional longing, a sense of abject despair. We see this in the poster above, it's the pills that facilitate a numbness, that allow Sara to forget food and literally hollow herself out as to feel happier on the outside. That means, to talk about Sara's story, we're not going to need to analyse the technicalities of the film like we did with Marion, but the emotions, the feelings of the character that all culminate in an existential idea of inertia. What we are then going to look at is her addictions and how they feed into her central monologue.

We'll start straight away with the addictive imagery. To get to the essence of emotion, of Sara and the film alike, we have to spiral inwards. We'll do this by exploring from the effects of T.V, of food and of the red dress. So, to start, we have T.V, more specifically we have Tappy Tippon and his Juice. If you own the special edition of this film, you may have seen the full cut of his special called, Tappy Tippon's Life Story. Seeing this is crucial to getting a complete understanding of the film in respect to Sara (and then Sara in respect to other characters which forms the whole narrative). In the film we only see small snippets of Tippon's advertisement and it's mainly just repeated small segments. The most memorable thing about this would be that he has 3 main things you must quit over 30 days to have a better life. However, as most would have counted we only learn of two: no red meat and no refined sugars. The third parameter is... drum roll... no orgasms. Knowing this on top of Tappy's life story are key to a deep understanding of the narrative. Nevertheless, it's having the incomplete picture of Tappy's advertisement that allows you assume he's a crook and talking out of his ass (which is partly important). Seeing the full advert however does much the opposite. To watch it in full (only 5 mins) click here:


If you didn't click that, or just weren't paying attention, the key points are:

No red meat, refined sugars, or orgasms.
Commitment and passion.
Tappy was once fat, lost his job, was suicidal, but turned his life around.

For this 5 minute segment to be all that Sara watches is very telling of something crucial to the film, and we need to get into that before getting into what this all means in relation to her story. So, constantly watching Tappy cites the consumerist undertones of this film. Maybe this is an advert between shows, or maybe this is one of those segments that go on before and after programming schedules. You could argue that this is on a channel that exclusively features this commercial and others like it, but Sara watches this religiously. I don't think anyone in their right mind could watch the same 5 mins over and over and over. This leaves us with the former inference - that Sara's waiting for her programmes to come on. It's in this that we see the core conflict of her character (that she has to wait) but also the fault of consumerist constriction. When we are dependent on other people, systems, businesses for entertainment, enjoyment, levity, we are also lumped with requests and asking prices - advertisements in other words. It's after every 15 minutes that we have to watch 5 minutes of sales pitches (almost all of them fabrications, half-truths, or lies). This is an insane part of our society that is hard to step back and look at. Not only is watching T.V simply sitting and looking at things happen, something no different than staring into empty space from an outsider's (non-human's) perspective, but we're also spending a quarter of that time watching something uninteresting, something we don't really want to hear - lies, fabrications, half-truths. This is why Tappy's advert is almost precisely 5 mins by the way - and is also why it's constantly repeated in part, but never completed. It cites the perpetual insanity of advertisement and salesmanship that we accept just because we want that 15 minutes of 'entertainment' - in other words, people pretending to do and be things, to lie to our faces, to give us... I don't know, some sense of belonging. That's an incredibly scary truth of T.V, of cinema even. I could argue now that 'good cinema' is better than 'good T.V' (which I wholeheartedly believe) but that's a tangent unnecessary to take. Instead, it's recognising that all forms of entertainment and media are a little insane when you step out of the bubble, but also, that, in the end, that's not so bad. Having said that, let's look at the advert itself in relation to Sara.

The first two steps (no red meat, no refined sugar) we hear are the segue into the proceeding level of Sara's spiral (food and pills) so we don't need to dive too deep into that. But, the third step which we don't hear in the film is both intriguing and confusing. No orgasms. This is the end all and be all of chemical rewards. The orgasm is the body's ultimate weapon of asserting some kind of natural way or idea of norm. The orgasm rewards reproduction and the perpetuation of our species. This is thus intrinsic to Sara as she has Harry - and he's her complete world. Moreover, she has lost her husband. This means her orgasms, if she has any (I know, not nice to think about, but stay with me) are nothing more than an attempt to feed the mechanical beast that is her body without any kind of truth, any kind of social affirmation that sex gives as a result of being with another person and having the chance to actual procreate. As you'd have picked up, we have a motif here: feeding the mechanical beast that is the body. This is what Sara does with food too, but, again, we'll come back to that. Tappy wanting Sara (indirectly) not to have orgasms is his way of saying: tame the beast that is your body. This idea of control isn't a bad thing, it even seems to make the advert seem like it's making sense, that you should listen to the guy. But don't take him to heart. To understand why, we have to look at his life story. His life story is a decent into his lowest low where a little girl asks him: 'please, don't cry'. This gave him the will to quit destroying his body for 30 days. Those 30 days then gave him the hope and strength to give up and improve his life over the next 6 years. This element of personal strength, of going over the first hurdle is what we can all agree on. This is what makes Tappy seem like he's making sense. But, he skips over something fundamental, which is where Sara, like most people, fall. And this is all linked to Tappy's third step, orgasms. Like he says, and the film repeats, even slows down: '[this third step] drives most people crazy'. The orgasm, or lack thereof, is a big reason for going crazy - the fact that we don't get a chemical rush. But, there is something more. It's the social aspect. This is where the little girl (yeah, I know, not a great jump to make - sorry, it was unavoidable) comes in. Both the chemical pleasure of an orgasm and being told 'please, don't cry' make clear that a huge percentage of what we do, what we are programmed to act on, is for other people. Tappy makes it clear, in the end of his speech he says he wants to be our version of the little girl to give us the means to find our own purpose in living. Sara finds her purpose of living in her son and friends (but in the end T.V and the red dress). What is key here is that we live for others, for our born and unborn children, or for those we live by and for, those who see us and expect different - like us not crying or being sad.

It's in the latter point that we see where Tappy betrays Sara. What he says is that she needs to quit things, needs to control her body, without making clear the true reason why we do things. We do things to make others happy so we feel we fit in, so we in turn feel better about ourselves. This is the cycle of emotion and humanity. We have to give to receive. That's how our bodies work, how society works, but, this is also our major weakness, it's how everything about us can be destroyed in milliseconds. For the same reason we love (to be loved back) we kill as to not be killed. There is always a response to our actions, negative or positive (meaning reciprocal or not). We see this in loving and killing. We kill not to be killed - a negative response that give a positive result - we're still alive. We love on the other hand to be loved back - a positive response giving a positive result - we're in a mutual loving relationship. Why I'm making this point in such a fundamental, no-brainer kind of way is to demonstrates the simple mechanics of why Sara spirals out of control. The responses to her actions have no positive result. She diets, watches T.V, has kids, tries to be social, but gets nothing in return. What does this all come back to? It all comes back to consumerism. In the same way Sara watches T.V, putting up with adverts, she also loves Harry without getting much love back, putting up with the pain he causes. It's then made clear that what kills us is ourselves. We need that give and take, we need other people, but we can only control half of the equation. We can try to manipulate the other side, try to select the right piece to the puzzle, but we can't control it. Tappy found his piece in the little girl saying 'please, don't cry' but we are all unique when it comes down to the nuts and bolts of personal perspective and identity. Tappy is not a one-key-fits-all deal. He pretends to be, and that's what kills Sara. This doesn't mean that Tappy's ideas aren't valid, that his point can't work for many, but that they most definitely won't work for everyone. He paints with a broad brush, but doesn't make that clear with the painting produced. This is the fundamental half-lie, the fabrication, the ploy of salesmanship, of consumerism. We're all reduced to an average. This is ok. This is completely fine. But, what isn't is that the average, the 75, 80, 90, 99.99% is being sold, not told. The complete truth isn't transparently translated. Whilst we're on the subject, the opposite is equally as dangerous. We don't need to be told that we are all 100% unique, that we are unconditionally worthy, special or necessary. That will kill you all the same. What is important is having the bigger picture and the small details at the same time. It's the abyss, the incalculable, the convolution, the back and forth, the kaleidoscope of possibilities that need to be recognised. However, recognising the incomprehensibility of the universe and of life can kill you all the same. And thus we come full circle again (which is the point). There's no one-size-fits-all.

Ok, so seeing how the advertisement works in relation to Sara, and how it plants the seed of destruction in the fabrication it produces, we can come to the food she eats. I note here that the catalysing detail is the hope of Sara being on television, but we'll come to that in a minute. Staying with food, Sara decides that she needs to fit into the red dress by going on a diet. Now, picking up a detail from Tappy's advert, she lacks 'commitment and passion' in the beginning. She gets through a day before calling her friend about the doctor and the pills. What this makes clear is that she didn't listen to Tappy's half-helpful words. So, not only did she not get the truth in regard to her own individuality and needing her own object of happiness (possibly her son) but she decides to go for this empty goal (which is filled in by the idea of television) on an unadvised path. Sara takes an easy route. The path of the pills automates the process of dieting. She relinquishes control. What she does is feed the beast that is her body with as taste of its own medicine - chemical control. This doesn't mean that all drugs, that all chemical control in and around our bodies is bad or that we all need to take control and responsibility of everything about us. This is irrational, not to mention impossible. The truth of drugs is simply that we should use them as a tool, we need to have our objectives and use them (quite obviously) responsibly. We've all heard this a thousand times  though and dismissed it as painfully obvious, but it's with Sara that we can see why, despite this being so obvious, people still get addicted to drugs and make mistakes. Again, this comes back to Tappy Tippons and consumerism. People want and need, we live with incentives such as orgasms, such as chemical reinforcement for having friends, doing good things, bad things, but, we lack the final goal. I've been going over and over and over this idea of conflict on this blog, especially recently with posts centering on the The Matrix essay. This all comes down to this image:


There are aspects of our lives and perception that feel like this. But, it's with Requiem that we can recognise the bigger picture. Our bodies are programmed with forward momentum, but momentum towards an unknown. Control thus becomes our key objective. Because Sara hasn't got her own Matrix (yet - fingers still cross, still letting it go) she can't control reality, the world around her. So, she tries to control what she eats to change her internal sense of reality. Giving this responsibility away (using the pills) is in turn dangerous because you are rushing towards a great unknown without comprehending each step along the way. If Mario ever does get to the top of these stairs he would have done so through perseverance, he would feel and remember each step he took to get there. And that's his lesson in life. The question you then need to ask is: what is the end goal without the journey toward it? Well, just look at Sara. She took the pills to fast track getting into that dress, to then fast track getting onto T.V. But, hold on. Something doesn't make sense there. She misconstrues getting on T.V with getting fitting into her dress. She conditions herself to think that the journey and the end goal are the same thing, allowing herself to believe that the journey isn't made up of a thousand small journeys, but one simple set if steps. This is why dieting in this manner leaves her a shell of a person. It kills her because the journey towards the great unknown is lost beneath her. Moreover, it kills her because of her consumerist bond to waiting. This is the most intimate relationship any human holds. We all wait. We all live in a reality bound and controlled by time. Everything we do is to ensure the next second isn't much worse that the last (hopefully). The trap here is that it's easy to ignore the moment just in front of us, to think about the second 10 steps away. But, in doing this we then sabotage that future by destroying the path to get there. This doesn't mean we need to live in the moment. This is quite obviously a gross exaggeration, a half-lie and fabrication. The moment has and always will have been and gone. Don't try to live in it because it's too hard to find. In other words, don't try to live and hold onto an idea of this one moving moment. We need to accept that we live in this spotlight on a scale of infinity that one day will go out, whilst thinking about as many moments as humanly possible, as many moments as our fleeting idea of a moment, the moment, needs. That's the truth, and the fact that it's not simple, it's not quipey, short, tweetable, is the reason why living in the moment in a consumerist, blind, want, want, want way will kill you. To ignore reality is to doom yourself (until The Matrix happens and we can all let it go - hopefully).

So, it's in food, in Sara's diet that we can understand the importance of waiting in life, which paradoxically makes the idea of adverts and Tappy ok again as they force us to wait, to stop consuming, to stop and look around once in a while. This is true, but at the same time, adverts are a form of pseudo entertainment that feeds us with unhelpful, incomplete ideas. It's now that we can round this off with the crucial point of Sara's story, the black dot she runs toward: T.V. She wants to be on television. Why? The answer is obvious, but also incredibly painful as it will take us around in another circle. She wants to be on T.V to tell the world about her son and husband. This is all, again, social affirmation. Her appearance on T.V is no different from the orgasm Tappy tells her she shouldn't have. And this is the core lie Tappy tells. He tells us that we shouldn't feed ourselves, we shouldn't adhere to an impulse that will give us a chemical dose of affirmation and good feelings, all so we can end up getting a... drum roll... chemical dose of affirmation and good feelings. This all raises the question of the 'journey' I've been talking about. Will the end be worth it? If we don't know this then we have to look at life, at the paths we tread now in the same respect Schrödinger does his cat. Moreover, we can't measure happiness, we can't introspect without messing with the system (ourselves - emotionally). What this means is that we have a devastating observer bias, as well as a soul crushing paradox of our lives having meaning and being meaningless all at the same time. In other words we don't have the means to fix ourselves, nor do we have the means to see the problem. This is life, this is the crux of Sara's story. She wants to appear on T.V to get a chemical rush. This doesn't seem like a great plan though, does it? It'll just leave her empty. At the same time, she wants to lose weight, take pills, eat food, watch T.V - and all for a chemical rush. These don't seem like great things though, do they? What seems to be the answer? Maybe she should accept her core goal of family, of social living. Maybe she should get her chemical dosage of social affirmation from friends, Harry, her husband. But, they're all dead, abusive, or useless, aren't they? It's now that we move onto her monologue...


This is the true 'To Be, Or Not To Be'. Fuck Shakespeare, Sara says it best. Jokes aside, the end of that clip is probably the most poignant thing. Harry cries, but to numb the pain, he takes the drugs. And that's probably what you want to do right about now, right? You want to forget the hole that is life, the unfathomable trap, this inescapable futility that brings us to the brink of tears. The truth is that you can close this page, you can go back to Twitter, YouTube, you can go watch T.V, have a snack, watch a film - which you'll probably do - but, in doing this, you'll forget. You'll forget Sara, you'll drop the existential plight of life and you'll be able to smile. This is why Sara's red dress is so important. It makes her happy. It allows her to live in as many moments as she can cope with. It allows her to wake up and it acts as meaning in life.

And this is where we end, our two key motives in life are pretending we exist for some intangible reason and then forgetting what is most obvious - that we exist for no apparent reason.

Part 5 - Harry

The fifth part in the series where all character story lines coalesce with Harry Goldfarb.


To get into Harry's story we have to quickly go over what we learnt from Tyrone's, Marion's and Sara's. With Tyrone what is made clear is the idea of the Requiem - of what each character mourns. Each has an individual past which they cannot change, but plagues them. To escape the distress of this, they numb themselves with addictive substances. With Marion the idea of a fall, of failure was made most clear. But, the take away from her path centred around responsibility and control - in the end making clear that all characters have their Requiems, but also their hamartias (fatal flaws). Sara's story was about the ultimate conflict of personal flaws and the external world. This left us with an existential idea that we exist for no tangible reason which leaves us squandering for meaning in life. What you'll notice is the complication of narrative message. We start with the simple idea that the past is what destroys these characters. We then moved onto an idea of responsibility - of self-destruction. But, then we ended on the acceptance that there are two forces pulling these characters apart. What is lacking thus far is resolution. This is where Harry comes in. Everything about character conflicts discussed so far all funnel into his character, all funnels into an idea of sorryI believe this is final and most tragic note of the film. Moreover, it's the hardest, most soul-crushing question asked by Requiem For A Dream. How do you say sorry?

To lead up to this question and to fully comprehend what Harry essentially has to (wants to) apologise for, we have to start with the beginning. Requiem For A Dream is essentially a film about traps. We went over this in the first part when discussing the opening scene and the split screen Aronofsky often utilises throughout the film:



This is used to quite literally split his characters apart. This is an interesting technique though. It does segregate characters, but only to control the distance between them. To understand this, merely look at the two examples given. In the first, Marion and Harry lie next to each other caressing one another. Aronofksy could simply show how close they are with a simple wide and tight shot. Something as simple as this:



Not only are we allowed to see the wide angle that shows how they are in full contact, head to toe, legs and arms intertwined (with them being alone - quite important) but then you are made to observe that it's their faces that matter - it's the fact that they are asleep, that they are utterly comfortable with one another. I would even argue that these two shots (a push into a close up) are more romantic, and better demonstrates a close relationship than the split screen. This then implies that Aronofsky didn't want to show just how close the two could be. The split screen primarily indicates that they aren't lost to each other, but in their own worlds because of each other. The difference here is subtle, but crucial. It implies that their love is conditional. And later on we find out just what those conditions are - drugs. When drugs are out of the equation, all romance, all sense of connection falls away. This is why Aronofsky uses split screen in one of the most intimate moments of the film - to disconnect.

Now, coming back to the second example of a split screen given by the opening scene, we can see how it can be used to bring characters together. Despite Sara hiding in the closet, she is put in the same space as Harry through cinematics. Aronofsky then implies that despite Harry stealing from and later humiliating his mother, he still thinks of her. This is a crucial aspect of Harry's character - he traps people (his mother mainly) to free himself. In other words, he steals money from his mother to buy drugs, push off and forget reality. The reality he's trying to forget though is (in part) that he's not too great of a son. This is why bringing Harry and Sara closer together with split screen in the beginning is so important. Not only does it show that Harry knows what he is doing is entirely wrong, but that he cannot force the distance he requires between himself and his mother as to forget what he's doing is wrong. You see this echoed in the way he's taking money from his mother. He knows that taking the T.V and selling it is tantamount to taking money from his mother's purse, but it's only because he doesn't have to face that fact directly, that he engages in what is a pretty fruitless venture. In fact, it's the exchange with the T.V that perfectly exemplifies the relationship between Harry and Sara. Harry takes the T.V and sells it for (let's say) around $10. His mother would then have to pay something like $20 to get it back. To save face, Harry has his mother waste money when he could simply ask for the original $10 (steal it even) and have everyone be happier. But, that extra $10 Sara loses each and every time Harry wants money is a perfect example of how he drains her, not just financially but emotionally. I could bring this full circle and say Sara only buys the T.V back because that's what she's addicted to (on top of loving her son somewhat irrationally) but we've already covered that aspect of Requiem. Instead of looking at the cycle characters get themselves into, the cycles that turn into spirals, I want to jump to the end...

 

Both Harry and Sara end up alone. And in reality what got them here is a simple $10 fee for momentary and faux comfort, so Harry didn't have to look his mother in the eye, so he didn't have to directly steal from her, that ultimately extorted the both of them. This is the overriding pattern of Harry's behaviour and it's fundamentally down to cowardice. He refuses to act as the criminal and junkie he is. He wants to be seen as the businessman, the boyfriend, the son, not the dealer, the supplier, the leech. In short, you can't be a halfway crook, a halfway gangster, a halfway criminal. You have to be all in or you will lose. To quote my favourite band: 'the only way is all the way'. Whilst the aphorism holds an essential truth, to tease out exactly what destroys Harry and those around him, we have to take a closer look at his relationship with Marion.

I hinted at this in part 3, but the following is the essential image of the film:


What we have here is Marion in Sara's red dress. This dress:






This fundamental juxtaposition of a symbol implies a lot. Firstly, both Marion and Sara wearing this dress implies that they hold the same hamartia. To Sara the red dress is a simple solution to a incredibly complex problem. The red dress is a ticket toward stardom, toward her 15 minutes on T.V. Why should Marion want this also? I could speculate a lot, I could speculate that Marion holds a quashed hope of wanting to step out of the shadow of her father as a designer (he also owns a clothing shop). I could even appeal to the idea that we all want our 15 minutes with that being all the red dress represents. But, to get the true answer we have to look at everything in context. This...


... is Harry's vision. This is a visual representation of everything crucial wrong with him. He sees Sara as his mother essentially. He sees Marion as a woman with an ideal. Sara's ideal was family life, Marion's may be the same thing. But, whatever it is, Sara lost everything. Sara lost her husband, her friends, her way of life, and, for reasons never explicitly fleshed out, her son. She is left alone when all she wanted was family. She started with nothing, found something in married life, and then lost it. Marion starts with nothing, she finds Harry, and by his experience, she's due to lose everything. This is where the reason for Harry disliking his mother is implied. She seems very clingy. She adores her son, and having lost her husband holds on to him as the only thing she has left. She smothers him, Harry is in turn distant. This push pull in his character is quite like the split screen:


He wants to be romantically close to Marion, but there's something between them, a condition to ensure everything stays fine. Drugs. So, what this all enforces is that the red dress is a metaphorical simple solution to a wider and much more complex problem. What it represents is past baggage, character's Requiems, and them trying to step out of a cycle. The cycle would be best seen with Harry and Sara. Harry loves his mother, but also quite clearly resents her for... it's strange to put down, but... loving him back - and too much. That's what smothering is. It's giving someone too much of something they thought they wanted, forcing them to detest it. The same thing that happens with all the addictive substances in the film. Drugs numb characters, blinding them to reality, to their own emotional problems. This coddling, this denial of reality, consumes and smothers them. The red dress is then clearly an idea of an end goal, of these character coming out the other side. This is so important with Harry as he not only wants his mother, but his girlfriend to also come out the other side better off. Here is also where we have to call back to Tyrone. His core conflict is that he wants to 'make it' for the memory of his mother - almost in dedication. Harry essentially wants to do the same thing. He wants to make it for his mother, as represented (in part) by Marion. Now, the core idea of guilt, the foundation of Harry's sorry, comes with this responsibility he, just like Tyrone, takes on. Harry feels he has to make his mother happier, make Marion happier. We see this in the way he gets drugs for Marion and then the T.V for Sara. But, what are drugs? They are an automative substance for these characters, they make going from point A to point B easier as they are numbed, anaesthetised to the friction of their movement through life.

It's now that the complex narrative pulled together from Tyrone's, Marion's and Sara's story has been simplified. All philosophical quarrels of why and how, of who is responsible, of how this happened has been reduced to a simple why: you wanted it to be easy. However, and this is the key trap of the film, this seemingly poses a simple solution to a complex issue. If you wanted things to be easy, why not just accept that they are supposed to be hard? This reduces Harry's apology, to a simple 'sorry, I didn't try hard enough' or 'sorry, I'm a coward'. But, to this simple apology comes a plethora of emotions and ideas. And it's those ideas that we will end on in the final part of the Requiem Series.

Part 6 - Futility: How Do You Stop A Runaway Train?

This is the final part of my in-depth analysis of one of my all time favourite films.


Over the last 5 parts we've covered the terrific narrative movement this film has, the almost literal ride it takes you on, and then themes of past, present, responsibility and regret. What this all culminates into is a film about life in the guise of tragedy, a movement towards inevitable disaster. I think this is what all great stories, all great films, are. They are a transcription of life dressed up as something. In other words, stories are lives compressed. They are lessons learned, journeys taken, rides endured, that are translated to words or images that are caught on film, written on paper. This is what a story is - snap-shots of life. The best stories take this concept of snap-shots and define it with themes. Like I said, they dress life up as to tell of specific problems, to teach specific lessons. I've said this about writing and screenwriting, but I'll reiterate. The best lessons in life are the almost useless ones, the most ambiguous, most generalisiable, but still categorical. These are the best lessons because living is a subjective experience. You can't live your life under a specific set of rules that worked for one person because we quite simply aren't the same. Now, what this means for stories, for words that represent life dressed up as something, all comes down to the audience. Stories must be broad, secretly non-specific as to connect with as many people as possible - to allow us to figure out the specifics of the lesson implied (not really taught) under one specified theme. This all kind of begs the question of why I'm clarifying the movie's message and picking it apart over so many posts, but, let's ignore that. Instead, let's try to get a final grip on the colossal think piece that Requiem For A Dream.

Requiem's specific theme is tragedy. This story is of tragic lives. It tracks hope along a rough road that all characters end up falling off of, their lasting words being nothing more than a sorry (if anything). The point of this comes down to emotions. The purpose of showing a tremendous spiral into tragedy is to make us, the audience, experience dire futility. The question inherent to the title, Requiem For A Dream, is thus: what was I supposed to do? We see this best with Harry. His story line, like my posts, bring everything together toward a futile sorry. Harry's Requiem is linked to his mother, of Sara losing a husband and turning to her son as the only person she has left in her life, but Harry not being able to handle that because he felt smothered. So, whilst he's made to regret everything he cause by the end of the film, what does that do for anyone? There's two approaches you can take to this seemingly rhetorical question. The first is to zoom out of the narrative in Jodorowsky-esque style and say, 'it's all just a film'. What this then implies is that when people run into dead, futile ends, that's it for them. But, for the onlookers, they've just witnessed what not to do. They've watched a person dig a hole and throw themselves down, meaning they should have no trouble in simple edging around it. This means that this film is nothing more than what it seems: 'a very expensive anti-drug campaign'. Whilst there is this element to Requiem, I feel there's more to be fleshed out here. If we take another approach to looking at the final question of the film, 'what was I supposed to do', but imagine it's us, not Harry, Sara, Marion or Tyrone, saying it, then, we're forced into a much more complex situation. If films are lives, snap-shots, lessons then why should we take an approach to them that's outside looking in? Why shouldn't we put ourselves in the film? I won't leave you with that rhetorical question though. To expand on what I mean here, just look at action films. How do they make us excited, thrilled, exhilarated? They put us in the action. Whether it's with Michael Bay-esque explosions, gun shots and crashes you can't help but feel, great character work exemplified by the likes of a John McClain or Indiana Jones, awe inspiring choreography seen in The Raid series or numerous Jackie Chan films, joyous, blood-drenched, fetishistic, squirt-fest, cum at your face, scenes like Tarantino's Crazy 88 sequence... action draws you in. The same happens with drama, romance or suspense. We have to be drawn into the emotions of the scenes, the feelings of the characters, the mysteries and conflicts at hand. Art films or the subtextual, ambiguous parts of a film also need investment - you putting yourself in a character's position. So, what this all makes clear is that to really get into Aronofsky's masterpiece, we have to put ourselves in the position of characters.

Now, it'd be easy to put ourselves in characters' shoes at the beginning of the film, or even mid-way through. But, the 'what was I supposed to to' becomes a 'what am I supposed to do'. And the answer to that is simple. Stop taking drugs, get a job, get into therapy, chin up, don't be stupid. Where it makes sense to take over the character narratives is the end of the film. I believe this is why it ends where it does, to have us continue with the characters' plight and face the questions they do.

  
 

Warning
Obscure and painful pun imminent.

We'll lay this to rest with a metaphorical LOGarithm. Sorry. With the song Laid To Rest by Lamb Of God, we have the way in which to deal with all of the characters' narrative conflicts. To get into this we'll take a look at the chorus:

Smother another failure, lay this to rest.
Console yourself, you're better alone
Destroy yourself, see who gives a fuck
Absorb yourself, you're better alone
Destroy yourself.

I draw your attention to lines 2, 3, 4 and 5. These all align with the characters' end situations. Firstly, Tyrone and Console yourself, you're better alone. It's in the first picture we can see that his Requiem is his mother. He never could make it, thus, he could never prove himself. The answer to his situation, of his failure, is to console himself as he's better alone. (Hang around, we'll get into why in a moment).

Next, Marion and Destroy yourself, see who gives a fuck. This line is a confirmation of Marion's actions. She has exploited herself, turned to prostitution, ruined her art-work, given up essentially - and all for money and drugs. She gave it all up for a cycle between dirty singles and pounds of impure powder that will eventually destroy her.

Next, Sara and Absorb yourself, you're better alone. Again, a confirmation of action. Sara's conflict comes with her inability to cope with reality. She pitches all her hopes and dreams into television. She disassociates a process of fixing her relationship with her son, of finding happiness with friends, some kind of social affirmation, from something she must do, to something T.V (an appearance on a show) can do for her. So, with the end, she does absorb herself, she spirals into a fantasy that leaves her alone.

Lastly, Harry and the simple, Destroy yourself. With the lie Harry is told by the nurse, 'Someone will come' and having given the arm for drugs, only the leg left to give, it's clear that he has nothing to live for. The answer to this in his mind, as would be most, would be to give up comprehensively, to commit suicide.

Now, what's important to recognise now is that this is a metal song. I am in no way suggesting that these characters, or ourselves in their positions, should be smothered to death as they are failures. To understand what I mean, it's best to start with the lyrics to this song as a whole:

If there was a single day I could live
A single breath I could take
I'd trade all the others away.

The blood's on the wall, so you'd might as well just admit it
And bleach out the stains, commit to forgetting it.
You're better off empty and blank,
Than left with a single pathetic trace of this

Smother another failure, lay this to rest.
Console yourself, you're better alone
Destroy yourself, see who gives a fuck
Absorb yourself, you're better alone
Destroy yourself.

I'll chain you to the truth, for the truth shall set you free
I'll turn the screws of vengeance and bury you with honesty
I'll make all your dreams come to life,
Then slay them as quickly as they came

Smother another failure, lay this to rest.
Console yourself, you're better alone
Destroy yourself, see who gives a fuck
Absorb yourself, you're better alone
Destroy yourself.

See who gives a fuck.
See who gives a fuck.
See who gives a fuck.

Failure.

If there was a day I could live,
If there was a single breath I could take
I'd trade all the others away.
I'd trade all the others away.


You can look at these in two ways. Firstly, you can assume they are to be sung (screamed) at someone you hate. On the other hand, you could assume that they are to be sung (screamed) toward yourself. This turns the song into one of self-hate and regret. But, with the self-hatred comes a clear solution:

Smother another failure, lay this to rest.

The failure to be smothered here isn't the character, it's their actions. The core idea of this song is one of perspective and one of control. This all comes right back to this image:


When you have perspective, when you have the ability to perceive, you must have control over yourself. I touched on this with the idea of free will and responsibility. We may not have absolute control over our worlds, over our own bodies. We may suffer from addictions, depression, mentalities that simply want to destroy us in spite of our best efforts. Nonetheless, it is us who perceives, who feels the highs, the lows, the self-destruction, the self-hatred, the futility, the consequences. This is reason enough to assume you must take control. You must fight, or you must give in. You must take the idea given by the lyrics as something you can say to yourself. You then must decide how you will react. Will you see yourself as the failure? Will you see your actions at the failure? The ultimate and most poignant question the film give us is then: what can you do? What this means is that to move on in life you mustn't bury your history - life isn't a venture into free porn, and, as Magnolia makes clear, you may be done wit the past, but the past might not be through with you. This means that to move on in life you must bury your perception of the past. It can come back and bite you in the ass any time it wants, you simply can't control that. But, what we do have partial control over is how we view what we have gone through. To overcome adversity you sometimes have to set things aside. You have to turn that 'what was I suppose to do' into 'what can I do'. The point in this all comes down to the reason why I said we should pick up on putting ourselves in the characters' shoes, not in the beginning, but the end. In perceiving we are never given a chance to act on a 'what was I supposed to do'. What you nonetheless have to hear is what you can act on, is a 'what can I do' or 'what am I going to do'.

This is the crux of the film. It gives you tragedy and dares you to get on with your day. How we overcome tragedy, how we overcome anything including ourselves is to take this broad idea of responsibility and make it personal. Whether you watch a depressing film and then listen to heavy metal or read a shitty magazine then go pet a cat, futility is an idea and (with a pretty nicely linked reference) to get over it you must firstly tell yourself, I'm not afraid any more:


Sorry, I'm not afraid any more, you have no power over me:


In the end, if what we perceive is our reality, is our own chance of perceiving truth, then to see your way through certain situations you sometimes have to close your eyes. So, how do you stop a runaway train? I don't know. But, if you're going to figure it out, you better calm down, take a breath and then get running.


Popular Posts