The Black Swan

Darren Aronofsky's latest film, The Black Swan (BS), is, to be kind, a true mind screw. BS follows ballet dancer Nina, portrayed by Natalie Portman, who lands the coveted roles of the White and Black Swans in Swan Lake. Her company's director Thomas, played by Vincent Cassell, one of my favorite foreign actors (most know him as the Night Fox from the Ocean's movies, but his French film La Haine is awesome), explains the White Swan is beautiful, technical, untouchable, somewhat distant, while the Black Swan is gorgeous, seductive, enticing. Thomas casts Nina because while he knows she can do the White Swan easily, he believes she can portray the much haughtier Black Swan, which is far outside her comfort zone; he also casts Nina because there is a sexual attraction undercurrent in their relationship. Can Nina learn to portray both roles convincingly by opening night?

As Nina struggles to embrace the Black Swan, Thomas brings another skilled ballet dancer, Lily, played by Mila Kunis. Lily is carefree and has a hint of rebellion in her, and dances more like how Thomas wants Nina to dance the Black Swan. This makes Nina very insecure about her ability to keep the coveted role. She works harder.

BS is ultimately a psychological character study of Nina. We get deep inside her mind to see all the things that fuel her insecurity, and we witness the battle she has in her mind as she struggles with maintaining her good girl sensibilities while being attracted to and embracing her darker yearnings. What forces Nina to her psychological breaking point? Several things. The constant specter of Lily potentially taking the role from Nina is always in the background of her mind. Further, Lily continuously encourages Nina to be more adventurous and daring, taking her for a night out where they get a bit crazy. Nina lives with her mom, played brilliantly by Barbara Hershey, a former ballet dancer herself, pushes Nina to be better technically and harasses her to ignore outside influences, mainly Lily. Thomas keeps prodding Nina to push herself farther and be more seductive so that she can be the Black Swan and become the new face of their company, replacing the past-her-prime Beth (played by Winona Ryder in a pretty bizarre cameo - she's on screen maybe 5 minutes).

With all of these outside forces pushing and prodding and pulling Nina, she spends the movie descending into psychological madness. Her mental health deteriorates like it is going down a drain, slowly at first, but then faster, more frequently, more violent and volatile. Scenes that are terrifying to watch turn out to be figments of Nina's eroding imagination - or are they? Aronofsky submerges us fully into Nina's psychotic breakdown, to the point that towards the end of BS, Nina literally turns into the Black Swan, feathers and all. For Nina, she had to do that psychologically or she would be unable to dance the way she needed.

Eventually, Nina's real and imagined worlds collide and are indistinguishable, which is I'm sure what Aronofsky is going for. If Nina cannot tell the difference between the real and the fantasy, why should the audience? There are two sides to this coin though: some folks will find the breakdown fascinating and enjoy the tease of fantasy and reality, while others will be hopelessly frustrated and annoyed. I was somewhere in the middle. Shortly before the end of BS I told my girlfriend that the film is weird. It most definitely is playing a different tune, one that will draw in some and repel others. I anticipate this being a polarizing experience.

Natalie Portman has been getting lots of Oscar buzz for BS, and today I think she is the frontrunner. And while she is great, I never got the sense that her performance was at the level of an Academy Award; when you compare her performance with the women who have won Oscars in the last few years, I don't see it at the same level. It's not that she's not good; I just don't think it's Oscar good. But the Academy love people that transform themselves or bury themselves in a character, which Natalie does. She clearly underwent several months of preparation for this role, as she does many of the artistic dance movements herself (or the special effects department did a phenomenal job of transposing her face on the actual dancer. Knowing the tight budget this film was on, I'm sticking with her preparing). You totally believe her as a ballet dancer, and I will give her props for deftly handling the psychological complexities of her character. I just don't know if I would give her the Oscar for it (at the end of the day, there may not be a better performance to give the Oscar to).

To me, BS is like a previous Aronofsky movie, Requiem for a Dream, mixed with All about Eve. It's good, but I don't know if I would watch it many more times, if at all. It's definitely a movie that will challenge your brain. When it was over, nobody in the theatre moved; we all kind of looked around thinking, "what just happened?" I imagine we'll be talking about that for years to come.