the panic in needle park

It's become a cliche for filmmakers to describe a movie's setting as a character unto itself. But in the case of The Panic in Needle Park (1971), which uses New York City as its urban jungle background, that's most definitely not a case of artistic hyperbole. As shot by cinematographer Adam Holender (who'd had lots of practice on Midnight Cowboy), Manhattan becomes a physical reflection of lead characters Bobby and Helen, two junkies who fall in love and fall through the cracks of the era's middle-class society.

Needle Park is actually Sherman Square, a rough area on the upper west side populated by addicts and hookers living day to day in the decaying hotels and coffee shops. Bobby (Al Pacino) is an ambitious heroin supplier who's also hooked on his own merchandise. Helen is a fish-out-of-water from Fort Wayne, Indiana, sliding deeper into trouble after being talked into an abortion by her artist boyfriend (Raul Julia). She and Bobby have an immediate connection, but their toxic lifestyle soon begins to wear on the romance.

Once Helen starts using, she and Bobby scrape the bottom of the barrel to support their habit: including turning tricks and turning on each other. Their fellow junkies are a poor support system and when the supply starts running low (the "panic" of the title), Helen and Bobby find that their self-delusional dream of marriage and a quiet life in the country is nothing more than a fantasy.

Director Jerry Schatzberg is the first to admit that his film is a downer. But as relentlessly depressing at Panic can be (would you expect anything less from a movie pitched by its screenwriters as "Romeo and Juliet on drugs?") it also brilliantly captures the honesty of Bobby and Helen's relationship; one of genuine affection, love, desire and dependence. Despite the fact that they never do tie the knot (Bobby's favorite throwaway threat is "I was gonna marry you!?"), the couple functions better than most suburban married couples, overcoming the challenges of infidelity, overdoses and long stretches of jail time. Sort of makes arguing over who does the dishes seem a bit petty, doesn't it?

Being Al Pacino's big-screen acting debut (Schatzberg claims footage he sent over landed the actor his next gig in The Godfather) diminishes Panic's reputation as nothing more than a warm-up film for his career. But the performances around him, both in front of and behind the camera, are him every bit a match for his skills. Co-star Kitty Winn, whose career essentially went nowhere, is heartbreakingly good (she won Best Actress when the film premiered at Cannes), riding out her character's highs and lows with convincing aplomb. Pacino may get all the press, but the movie hinges on Winn's portrayal of Helen as a flawed romantic who chooses love over a normal life.

Then there's New York itself, shot through long lenses that compress the crowded city streets to crawling hamster-tubes of humanity. There are no pretty skylines here (much to the studio executives dismay). Schatzberg shoots with a street-level authenticity that is almost claustrophobic in its intensity. And the soundtrack, which consists of nothing more than honking horns and rusty subway squeals (a traditional score was recorded then rejected...more on that later), only reinforces the illusion that Bobby and Helen are something more than doomed Shakespearean lovers; they're an all-too real example of a New York state of mind.

Twilight Time's 3000-copy limited edition Blu-ray is one of those additions to your library that ups its cool-factor by double-digits. The hi-def transfer is to die for, perfectly preserving that signature early '70s film stock with immense amounts of detail. And several extras have been ported over from a previous UK release, including interviews with director Jerry Schatzberg and screenwriter Joan Didion. But the most exciting bit is a new addition: an isolated score track featuring composer Ned Rorem unused musical cues which can be played along with the film. There has been no remixing so the dialogue and sound effects aren't worked in, but it's still a marvelous - and historical significant - special feature.