Love, Needles, and Prostitution

Dating dilemmas plague us all at some point in our lives. But Bobby (Al Pacino) and Helen (Kitty Winn) take bad relationships to new and macabre heights as they simultaneously antagonize and idolize each other in The Panic in Needle Park.

First released in 1971, Panic is showing in a new 35mm print at Film Forum through Feb. 5. Watching Pacino pal around with pill-poppers and prostitutes in his first major pre-Godfather film is well worth the $11 entrance fee.

Panic is many stories embedded in one. First, there is a heroin addict’s account of life in Needle Park (a strikingly appropriate epithet for Sherman Square in New York) during a “panic” (drug shortage). The narcotic’s narrative circumscribes a tragic tale of love, which encircles a story about self-worth. Each story works, although some more convincingly than others. The story of addiction and its concomitant evils will even make the hearts of a generation desensitized by Blow, Thirteen and Maria Full of Grace palpitate.

Extremely close, lingering shots of heroin injection gave the film a gritty feeling that matched the scenes’ dark and rusting decor. However, the first two slowly-emptying-needle-and-pulsating-vein shots filled the film’s startle-and-disturb quota—all the subsequent injection scenes seem simply gratuitous.

The love story is moving, if not entirely developed. Though the love between Bobby and Helen grows evident, the seeds of their relationship are not clearly sown in the beginning of Panic. It is never exceedingly clear why they are drawn to each other.

Despite the needles, petty thievery, and prostitution, this film is ultimately about self-worth—the balancing act between self-preservation and selfless love. Betrayal, sacrifice, and shame define Helen and Bobby’s relationship in turn, and at times it is unclear whether they intensely love each other or perversely hate themselves.

There is no soundtrack for The Panic in Needle Park, but music is not missed. Each scene sings a particular elegy of its own, without the accompaniment of soft rock or the pulsating score of a film like Requiem for a Dream.

This movie has its problems, but overall it is well done. It takes a needy woman and a needier man and holds them together with an incomprehensible adhesive. Watching them attempt to clear the wreckage of their lives is riveting. One famous poster of Panic reads, “God help Bobby and Helen.” The viewer soon discovers that no one can. And that’s surprisingly satisfying.