After That, Life Was Never the Same… I approached writing a review of "Requiem for a Dream" several times. I tried coming at it from different angles, but inevitably failed and gave up each attempt. But it seems the time has finally come. I feel mentally ready. I watched the film probably 15 or even 20 years ago, and only once. Yet I still remember exactly how I felt after seeing it. This is undoubtedly a heavy film about life — about the lives of different people, about characters who are fictional, written on paper. But sooner or later you realize that the stories told in the film are also about all of us, in one way or another. Darren Aronofsky is a director with a capital D — unquestionably talented. This was his first truly significant work, the film that introduced him to me personally. Many now-famous films would come later: "The Whale", "Black Swan", "Noah", "The Fountain". But it was Requiem for a Dream that resonated most deeply with my soul. It’s a film you remember remarkably well even decades later. It is brilliant in every single scene — and yet it’s a film you hesitate to ever rewatch. The movie follows several storylines that unfold in parallel. The main characters are powerfully portrayed by Jared Leto, Jennifer Connelly, Ellen Burstyn, and Marlon Wayans. Each story feels like being thrown headfirst into a whirlpool. Every character has a dream, but the path toward it becomes something unimaginable, often unclear, and inevitably doomed. Each of them follows their own life trajectory, and as a viewer, I find myself wanting to turn the film off — and at the same time completely unable to do so. Every next scene pulls you in, almost enslaving you, forcing you to keep watching. You want to know how their fates will continue to unfold. The film is saturated with striking visual brilliance. Unusual camera angles, unconventional shots, and of course the magnificent soundtrack — instantly recognizable even today from the very first notes if you happen to hear it somewhere. All of this has made Aronofsky’s film legendary, a work that has traveled the path from something extraordinary to a true classic. And the closer the film gets to its devastating finale, the more intense the rhythm becomes. The visuals begin to crush you, and the sound causes real physical discomfort. And yet I still cannot turn it off. By that point, it’s already impossible — even though you desperately want to. Reason demands it. But Requiem for a Dream will not let you go. Not until the very end. And when the film finally ends, it feels as if I’m left completely alone in the world. A deep, vivid silence surrounds me — and seems to settle inside me as well. The film drains you completely. I still remember being unable to quench my thirst with plain water afterward, just trying to come back to myself. The movie struck me with its sense of hopelessness and its uncompromising nature. So what did this story tell me? A dream is necessary, but the path toward it cannot be easy. Quite the opposite: in trying to reach a dream quickly and seemingly effortlessly, a person can fall so deeply into an abyss, and hit so hard, that recovery may be impossible. That is exactly what the film is about. It conveys this idea through a seemingly simple example — drugs. But this metaphor works perfectly, showing that people are, by nature, selfish, weak, and often lacking willpower. They want everything at once, fast and without consequences — but that’s not how life works. Happiness must be fought for, every step must be considered carefully. Give in to your weaknesses, and you may end up in a pit so deep that there is no way out. This film made me rethink life once and for all. It burned itself into my memory, probably forever. I still remember it vividly. It is a masterpiece in its uniqueness — but I doubt I will ever dare to watch it again. 10 out of 10