Dark Days is one of those documentaries that lingers long after the credits roll. It takes you into the abandoned tunnels beneath New York City, where a hidden community of unhoused people live in complete darkness, surrounded by filth, rats, and constant noise. The visuals alone are haunting, but it’s the people who make this film unforgettable—wounded, resilient, and incredibly human.
One scene had me genuinely laughing: a guy casually mentions throwing out a McDonald’s cup, and a woman absolutely flips out—saying she got it from a friend who went on vacation overseas. The guy’s confused and just says, “It’s a McDonald’s cup,” and she loses it even more. It’s such a weirdly funny argument, totally out of place and yet completely relatable. That little bit of absurdity gave the film a moment of unexpected levity.
But a lot of it is hard to watch. When they start talking about their kids—how some ended up in prison, or what they lost while they themselves were incarcerated—it’s heartbreaking. There’s this quiet pain under everything they say, like they’ve been living in survival mode for decades, and the emotional damage is just as heavy as the physical.
The dogs really got to me, too. They’re loyal and innocent, but stuck living in those same awful conditions, often cared for by people who are mentally unstable or barely getting by. It adds another layer of sadness, because the dogs didn’t choose this life—and neither did a lot of the people, really.
Even though this was my first time watching Dark Days, I immediately recognized so many of the songs. The soundtrack features tracks that were already well-known and powerful on their own, and hearing them here gave the film this added emotional weight. The music sets the mood perfectly—moody, reflective, and at times, even a little hopeful. It’s one of the things that will stick with me most.
Dark Days doesn’t sugarcoat anything, but it also doesn’t lose sight of the people in the middle of all that darkness. It’s tough, sad, unexpectedly funny, and deeply human. Definitely glad I finally watched it.
Dark Days is one of those documentaries that lingers long after the credits roll. It takes you into the abandoned tunnels beneath New York City, where a hidden community of unhoused people live in complete darkness, surrounded by filth, rats, and constant noise. The visuals alone are haunting, but it’s the people who make this film unforgettable—wounded, resilient, and incredibly human.
One scene had me genuinely laughing: a guy casually mentions throwing out a McDonald’s cup, and a woman absolutely flips out—saying she got it from a friend who went on vacation overseas. The guy’s confused and just says, “It’s a McDonald’s cup,” and she loses it even more. It’s such a weirdly funny argument, totally out of place and yet completely relatable. That little bit of absurdity gave the film a moment of unexpected levity.
But a lot of it is hard to watch. When they start talking about their kids—how some ended up in prison, or what they lost while they themselves were incarcerated—it’s heartbreaking. There’s this quiet pain under everything they say, like they’ve been living in survival mode for decades, and the emotional damage is just as heavy as the physical.
The dogs really got to me, too. They’re loyal and innocent, but stuck living in those same awful conditions, often cared for by people who are mentally unstable or barely getting by. It adds another layer of sadness, because the dogs didn’t choose this life—and neither did a lot of the people, really.
Even though this was my first time watching Dark Days, I immediately recognized so many of the songs. The soundtrack features tracks that were already well-known and powerful on their own, and hearing them here gave the film this added emotional weight. The music sets the mood perfectly—moody, reflective, and at times, even a little hopeful. It’s one of the things that will stick with me most.
Dark Days doesn’t sugarcoat anything, but it also doesn’t lose sight of the people in the middle of all that darkness. It’s tough, sad, unexpectedly funny, and deeply human. Definitely glad I finally watched it.
