It's no secret amongst my friends and family that I was NOT blessed with any athletic talent whatsoever. I wholeheartedly admit that while I make up for it with abundant charm, humor, and dashing good looks, I've never been agile, strong, speedy, or possessing even the most rudimentary forms of physical grace. It was most obvious when I played on the local community football team in 6th and 7th grade. I was more or less useless as an offensive tackle (which is basically the most useless position in the entire game), and getting to go home, wash up, and read comic books after a game was the best and most satisfying part of my day.
But what I hated most of all about football were the practices. Whether it was the opening calisthenics, the duration of the event (two hours was an eternity for yours truly), the endless drills, and the constant goings-over of plays, it wasn't long until sports and I became bitter enemies. Though I focused on more artistic endeavors later on in life, I couldn't imagine being one of those people (in athletics or otherwise) whose entire lives and careers were all about practicing their craft over and over and over again, endlessly striving to become perfect (and then some), where for some it ultimately consumes them and upends their very lives.
It's this kind of obsessive quest for perfection that permeates the psychosexual drama Black Swan, a highly disturbing yet breathtaking new film from cinematic mastermind Darren Aronofsky (Requiem for a Dream, The Wrestler), who returns to his familiar territory of psychologically-intense filmmaking with terrific success.
Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman) is a gifted and committed ballerina in a New York City ballet company headed by French director Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel). Upon retiring prima ballerina Beth (Winona Ryder), Thomas undertakes a search for his new lead to play the dual role of the Swan Queen for the season's upcoming debut of "Swan Lake".
Nina, who stills lives with her controlling and overbearing stage mother Erica (Barbara Hershey), is told by Thomas that though her frigid and innocent technique is perfect for the part of the virginal White Swan, she lacks the raw sensuality and passion of the uninhibited Black Swan. Complicating matters is the arrival of new dancer Lily (Mila Kunis), whose carefree and libidinous demeanor seem to be a perfect fit for the Black Swan.
As Nina pushes herself to win the role, her obsession begins to make her occasionally lose touch with reality, experiencing strange and grotesque hallucinations. Compounded by her mother's grip on her life and the possible threat of Lily moving in on supplanting Nina's place as the ballet's star attraction, it's only a matter of time until Nina's breaks from reality veers her into insanity.
I've never actually watched ballet in my life, nor have I known anyone associated with it in a professional capacity, but from what I've heard, being a ballerina is no walk in the park. The sheer discipline and dedication needed to merely pass muster is mindboggling to comprehend, and I wouldn't be surprised if there were many a dancer whose fierce passion eventually got the best of their very sanity. And depicting such insanity was probably no problem for director Aronofsky, who pretty much built his career on movies about mental and physical downward spirals.
After doing more intimate and emotionally-focused works like The Fountain and the extraordinary The Wrestler (which ranks as one of this reviewer's favorite movies ever), Aronofsky went back into his old stomping grounds of frenetic, disturbing, and visually-nauseating-yet-spellbinding moviemaking mastery. He makes sure that every single shot crackles with dark energy, with focus on kinetics so enthralling and powerful that we almost think that we're watching Black Swan in 3D.
But in order to become engrossed in such drama, we need an actress competent enough to give Nina an ample amount of tragedy and insecurity. Natalie Portman does that in droves, delivering a performance of a lifetime. Used to playing "good girl" roles in her extensive career, Portman nonetheless isn't typecast as the innocent and reserved Nina. Underneath her innocuous image is a woman consumed with being absolutely perfect, thanks in part to her controlling, former-ballerina mother whose rigid rules dictates Nina's very life.
But when the pressure builds up, Nina eventually breaks, and Portman's metamorphosis from meek to raging is absolutely jarring. It's a stellar performance that deserves every accolade it achieves.
As the lecherous yet passionate director of "Swan Lake", French actor Vincent Cassel does a fine job serving as one of the catalysts of Nina's descent into perfectionist madness, as does Mila Kunis, whose seductive wild child is a far cry from her much lighter work on TV shows like "Family Guy" or "That '70s Show" (especially considering a steamy yet unsettling "is-it-fake-or-real" sexual rendezvous with Portman's character).
Complementing the fine work onscreen are the brilliant technical achievements, from the fantastic choreography and costume design to the melodramatic score by Aronofsky regular Clint Mansell, who distorts the amazing works of Tchaikovsky into something far more sinister yet still retaining its raw power.
But perhaps the biggest star is the disorienting camerawork of cinematographer Matthew Libatique. Those with weak stomachs best stay away, because the camera NEVER stays in one place, opting to rather latch onto not only the character's grandiose body movements, but also manages to get us inside Nina's head with an assortment of swivels, close-ups, and trick shots. When we see Nina dance, we don't just watch her: we're ATTACHED to her.
Though some cynics may point out that many films with main characters who delve into madness are easy Oscar bait (and to be fair, that's sometimes a true assessment), Black Swan nonetheless manages to stay ahead of the curve thanks to intense direction, a powerhouse performance by Portman, terrific visual and auditory panache, and a starkly unsettling aura that's pure Darren Aronofsky. Embracing its melodrama and reminding me why I should stick to reviewing movies and NOT be a wannabe athletic virtuoso, Black Swan doesn't strive to be perfect. It does it effortlessly.
Letter Grade: "A"
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