Rated R for strong sexual content, disturbing violent images, language and some drug use
Cast: Natalie Portman, Mila Kunis, Vincent Cassel, Barbara Hershey, Winona Ryder, Benjamin Millipied
Director: Darren Aronofsky
Talk about being wound up tighter than a snare drum. In Darren Aronofsky's "Black Swan", Natalie Portman spends virtually the entire movie one paranoid delusion away from a full-on psychological implosion. That seems to be the way her immediate environment wants her. Her instructor, her mother, her fellow dancers... all seem to have a stake in her sanity or lack thereof. I know virtually nothing about the day-to-day machinations of a big-city ballet company, but I have an image in my mind of what it might be like. This movie comes disturbingly close to my imagination.
Portman plays Nina Sayers, a talented dancer for a New York City company whose dedication to her craft borders on obsessive. To her fellow dancers, however, she is more vulnerable than threatening. She lives in a kind of menagerie of fear. Always in a curious state of apology for not being enough. Not dedicated enough for her instructor, not worthy enough for the respect of her fellow dancers, not appreciative enough of her mother, not talented enough to follow in the footsteps of her idol. She seems perpetually ready to throw herself at the mercy of anyone who breathes the same air.
Things, however, might be looking up for her. The company instructor, Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel) has announced that the lead dancer in the company, Beth Macintyre (Winona Ryder) is being replaced for the upcoming production of "Swan Lake" and that Nina has been selected to step in. This does raise the ire of several colleagues and puts her in a somewhat uncomfortable position with the lecherous Thomas, but it has long been a dream of hers. She won't let this opportunity get away.
The role of the Swan Queen is a dual one. The part consists of two diametrically opposite personalities. The White Swan is pure, exudes innocence and grace. The Black Swan is seductive, revels in guile and projects sensuality. For obvious reasons, Nina is far more suited for the White Swan. To master the dark, lascivious predilections of the Black Swan will thrust her into the most ominous regions of her mind and soul.
As the pressure mounts, Nina begins to recoil from the incessant smothering of her mother Erica (Barbara Hershey), a former dancer herself whose constant attention seems to have a dual purpose... to both support her and as a means of "reinventing" a past she would have rather had. Erica is not merely an overbearing parent. She has an obsessive-compulsive streak that dances on the precipice of aggression. Their relationship is a strange one.
To help Nina cope, she begins to spend more time with a new member of the company, an easy-going free-spirit named Lily (Mila Kunis). Lily's appeal to Nina seems to rest in the fact that she stands outside of Nina's menagerie of fear. At first, it seems Lily has no stake in Nina's future. That is, until Thomas notices Lily's talent, and casts her as Nina's secondary. This development dumps more gas on Nina's growing bonfire of paranoia.
The movie is part drama and part thriller, imbued with over-the-top histrionics common in stage productions. Darren Aronofsky's visual style is well-suited to this approach. Cinematographer Matthew Libatique utilizes a nifty touch of shooting the actors from over the shoulder, allowing the audience to see only what they see, at the very moment they see them. It a skillful approach, one that emphasizes the threatening atmosphere as it begins to choke the innocence out of Nina. Clint Mansell's score adds to the unforgiving ambiance. The film has an effectively claustrophobic feel that is relentless.
I am becoming more appreciative of Darren Aronofsky's artistic approach with each film. I have a few friends who have considered him a genius from the starting gate, but it has taken me a little longer to admire all he brings to the table. For me, he is getting better at combining his unusual artistic style with a narrative approach that isn't too obtuse for the audience. (Fans of his will no doubt burn me in effigy for using the word "obtuse" in the same sentence as Darren Aronofsky, and I'll cop to the fact that the failing may be my own lack of comprehension, but what can I say? I once tried to extrapolate meaning from Aronofsky's "The Fountain." That was four years ago. I'm still recovering.)
The performances are spot on. Portman has a role that is both challenging and somewhat thankless. Her character undergoes the most marked transformation, though it's brought about from being at the mercy of outside influences. She goes through the greatest change, but her character is the least mysterious. When I first heard Mila Kunis was cast as a ballet dancer, I was a little skeptical. She is indeed a lovely young woman, though her sex appeal has seemed to me to be rather tomboyish in nature. That serves her well here, as she is playing a character the embodies everything that Nina must gravitate toward for her final transformation into the Black Swan. As it happens, she was perfectly cast.
Playing a lecher without a hint of self-awareness is not as easy as it sounds. As dance instructor Thomas Leroy, Vincent Cassel skillfully combines a rather lewd approach to his profession with a boyish charm that manages to seduce his dancers, even though anyone who exists outside the world of ballet would slap this guy silly.
Barbara Hershey sinks her teeth much further into the mother role than one might expect. She has a limited amount of screen time, yet we feel by the movie's end that we know almost as much about her as we do about Nina. And Winona Ryder makes an interesting acting choice for Beth; she plays her not really as a fully dimensional character, but more as a figment of Nina's paranoia. Her presence has a ghostlike feel. It really is a fascinating performance.
By the film's conclusion, I was drained. That's what I imagine Aronofsky was going for. The movie has a visceral effect on the viewer. It manages to be both claustrophobic and curiously seductive. By the film's end we hear the word "perfect" whispered over a blinding white light. The sanctity of one's soul seems a high price to pay... even for perfection. Although perhaps the only way for one trapped in a centrifuge of paranoia to free themselves is to push all the way through to the other side.
Maybe that's where a ballet dancer's dedication and perseverance comes from. Or maybe I'm just too drained to think straight. My psyche was stretched to the limit.
* * * 1/2 out of * * * * stars
Portman plays Nina Sayers, a talented dancer for a New York City company whose dedication to her craft borders on obsessive. To her fellow dancers, however, she is more vulnerable than threatening. She lives in a kind of menagerie of fear. Always in a curious state of apology for not being enough. Not dedicated enough for her instructor, not worthy enough for the respect of her fellow dancers, not appreciative enough of her mother, not talented enough to follow in the footsteps of her idol. She seems perpetually ready to throw herself at the mercy of anyone who breathes the same air.
Things, however, might be looking up for her. The company instructor, Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel) has announced that the lead dancer in the company, Beth Macintyre (Winona Ryder) is being replaced for the upcoming production of "Swan Lake" and that Nina has been selected to step in. This does raise the ire of several colleagues and puts her in a somewhat uncomfortable position with the lecherous Thomas, but it has long been a dream of hers. She won't let this opportunity get away.
The role of the Swan Queen is a dual one. The part consists of two diametrically opposite personalities. The White Swan is pure, exudes innocence and grace. The Black Swan is seductive, revels in guile and projects sensuality. For obvious reasons, Nina is far more suited for the White Swan. To master the dark, lascivious predilections of the Black Swan will thrust her into the most ominous regions of her mind and soul.
As the pressure mounts, Nina begins to recoil from the incessant smothering of her mother Erica (Barbara Hershey), a former dancer herself whose constant attention seems to have a dual purpose... to both support her and as a means of "reinventing" a past she would have rather had. Erica is not merely an overbearing parent. She has an obsessive-compulsive streak that dances on the precipice of aggression. Their relationship is a strange one.
To help Nina cope, she begins to spend more time with a new member of the company, an easy-going free-spirit named Lily (Mila Kunis). Lily's appeal to Nina seems to rest in the fact that she stands outside of Nina's menagerie of fear. At first, it seems Lily has no stake in Nina's future. That is, until Thomas notices Lily's talent, and casts her as Nina's secondary. This development dumps more gas on Nina's growing bonfire of paranoia.
The movie is part drama and part thriller, imbued with over-the-top histrionics common in stage productions. Darren Aronofsky's visual style is well-suited to this approach. Cinematographer Matthew Libatique utilizes a nifty touch of shooting the actors from over the shoulder, allowing the audience to see only what they see, at the very moment they see them. It a skillful approach, one that emphasizes the threatening atmosphere as it begins to choke the innocence out of Nina. Clint Mansell's score adds to the unforgiving ambiance. The film has an effectively claustrophobic feel that is relentless.
I am becoming more appreciative of Darren Aronofsky's artistic approach with each film. I have a few friends who have considered him a genius from the starting gate, but it has taken me a little longer to admire all he brings to the table. For me, he is getting better at combining his unusual artistic style with a narrative approach that isn't too obtuse for the audience. (Fans of his will no doubt burn me in effigy for using the word "obtuse" in the same sentence as Darren Aronofsky, and I'll cop to the fact that the failing may be my own lack of comprehension, but what can I say? I once tried to extrapolate meaning from Aronofsky's "The Fountain." That was four years ago. I'm still recovering.)
The performances are spot on. Portman has a role that is both challenging and somewhat thankless. Her character undergoes the most marked transformation, though it's brought about from being at the mercy of outside influences. She goes through the greatest change, but her character is the least mysterious. When I first heard Mila Kunis was cast as a ballet dancer, I was a little skeptical. She is indeed a lovely young woman, though her sex appeal has seemed to me to be rather tomboyish in nature. That serves her well here, as she is playing a character the embodies everything that Nina must gravitate toward for her final transformation into the Black Swan. As it happens, she was perfectly cast.
Playing a lecher without a hint of self-awareness is not as easy as it sounds. As dance instructor Thomas Leroy, Vincent Cassel skillfully combines a rather lewd approach to his profession with a boyish charm that manages to seduce his dancers, even though anyone who exists outside the world of ballet would slap this guy silly.
Barbara Hershey sinks her teeth much further into the mother role than one might expect. She has a limited amount of screen time, yet we feel by the movie's end that we know almost as much about her as we do about Nina. And Winona Ryder makes an interesting acting choice for Beth; she plays her not really as a fully dimensional character, but more as a figment of Nina's paranoia. Her presence has a ghostlike feel. It really is a fascinating performance.
By the film's conclusion, I was drained. That's what I imagine Aronofsky was going for. The movie has a visceral effect on the viewer. It manages to be both claustrophobic and curiously seductive. By the film's end we hear the word "perfect" whispered over a blinding white light. The sanctity of one's soul seems a high price to pay... even for perfection. Although perhaps the only way for one trapped in a centrifuge of paranoia to free themselves is to push all the way through to the other side.
Maybe that's where a ballet dancer's dedication and perseverance comes from. Or maybe I'm just too drained to think straight. My psyche was stretched to the limit.
* * * 1/2 out of * * * * stars
