"Every form of addiction is bad, no matter whether the narcotic, be alcohol or morphine or idealism."
-Carl Jung
An ideal is the perfect dream. A dream gives us purpose. A dream stimulates our imagination, resuscitates our bodies and spurs us to trudge through the unforgiving landscape of life. Getting married, graduating from college, buying the house on the hill; these are big dreams. Sometimes a dream can be as simple as losing weight and fitting into a red dress. After a dream manifest into reality, we become giddy. Intoxicated off euphoria, we must keep doing it again and again, it's the ultimate addiction. There's no harm in seeing through a major accomplishment but getting to the journey's end is not as satisfying if our moral compass is compromised. The lows from dreams deferred can drag down the high of seeing them manifest. Disappoints and discouragements are not welcomed but they barge through unannounced anyways. During these valleys, shortcuts are desired and welcomed; attractive detours toward our dreams with minimal sacrifice and pain. However, when these shortcuts are taken, we lose control of our dreams and fall into addiction. Addiction to our dream becomes consuming. Relationships and integrity are sacrificed in our pursuit of happiness. The very force that gave us life now dries us up like a raisin in the sun.
Requiem for a Dream, as the title implies, is a ceremony of death. The cause of the death is addiction. In the opening scene; Harry steals his mother's television again to feed his drug habit and his mother, Sara, goes to the pawn shop and buys the television back, again. At first, Sara's addictions in the film are not recreational drug related. She watches daytime television infomercials alone all day. She goes outside and talks to her neighbors, the same ones who see her son take the television again and again. She's starving for attention and admiration from her neighbors and her son; it's her dream, it's her drug. A prank call about being on television prompts Sara to lose weight, dye her hair and try to recapture her proudest moment, a picture of herself in a red dress at Harry's graduation. After no success because of little effort and little patience, Sara takes "diet pills", which are actually amphetamines. She becomes addicted to the drugs but the falsehood of her dreams were her gateway drug. She desires to tell the world about her wonderful son, and her late husband; though in the one picture we see of all three, she's the only one smiling. When the weight fades away and her neighbors shower her with attention, she's finally in the sun. She continues to take the pills but once she fits into the red dress, her dreams have overtaken her. Sara sags and crashes under the heavy load.
Dreams are not made of pixiedust and birthday wishes. Because dreams are only of value at a cost, they're grown through years of blood, sweat, and tears. When our dream addiction sprawls out of control, the unrelenting internal pressure and external set backs make us shortsighted. Requiem for a Dream illustrates this tragedy, especially through Sara. The electro shock therapy she endures is a last ditch resort to bring her back to reality. Often times, its the broken promises, deceit and destroyed relationships in our pursuit of dreams that bring us back to reality. If this is not traumatic enough, our manifest destiny is not built on solid foundation, but is built on sand. The dream home comes with an albatross montage, a recent college graduate drowns in debt with little employment options, and marriage becomes a nightmare after settling for any mate because of an artificial timetable. There's nothing wrong with having a dream and desiring and working for it to come to pass but as Requiem for a Dream shows, a dream pursued without regard to anyone, self included, is a prison sentence whether than a ticket to freedom. We must take care to understand we're in control, one right step at a time.
