New York City, circa 1970. Bobby and Helen meet and fall in love. He’s a native New Yorker; she’s from Indiana. He’s a streetwise, small-time criminal who has done jail time and dabbled in “hard” drugs. But she’s not an innocent either…
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Dignified child of the early seventies, when explorations of social, economical and political taboos were brutally honest. Back then newcomers, Al Pacino and Kitty Winn pour their souls as a couple of heroin addicts struggling to survive their habit. aesthetically the statement is as grim as life itself: hope is brief, there's no music, nor full closure, it goes on and on, and gets harder each time.
probably the best movie I've seen about addiction, because it's not really about addiction (addiction itself is not really "about" addiction either, funnily enough). it felt like I had been on my couch for around 17 hours when I got up to turn the TV off
Didn't like this one so much. It got the grittiness down and certainly felt real but by the end I didn't really feel for anyone and just felt the overwhelming urge to take a very long hot shower to wash this movie off of me. The performances were great, but I feel like a lot of Panic in Needle Park's successors did it much better.
After not seeing this since I was 12, it's still intense as fuck! Really four and half stars. The only issue I have with it is the pacing but honestly it's one my favorite representations of love set to celluloid. Its gritty camera work shines and the two leads are stellar. Is there a better acted movie in the 70s? Also, it's a little dated but who cares about that shit.
La mejor película que he visto acerca de la adicción a las drogas. Schatzberg apuesta por una mirada honesta y desprejuiciada, sin condescendecia ni sanciones morales al mundo de los junkies. El estilo formal es casi documental (muchos teleobjetivos y planos fueras de foco). Pacino, Winn y el resto de los heroinómanos están sólidos y convincentes, a diferencia de Alan Vint (Hotch) muy flojo en el rol de policía.
Kitty Winn is very touching and smart, and Pacino makes one darn cute and charming junkie, but this is very routine and flat, lacking the insiderness of Trash, the pungency of Midnight Cowboy, or the thousand yard stare of Taxi Driver. Fashionable Hollywood opportunism in an era of grunge-before-grunge. Not as good as Joni Mitchell's "Cold Blue Steel & Sweet Fire."