Black Swan

After winning the potentially star-making lead in a production of Swan Lake, ballet dancer Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman) struggles to keep her favored position. Her ethically challenged director (Vincent Cassel) berates her for a lack of passion while her ex-dancer mother (Barbara Hershey) seeks to shelter her from the world. The arrival of Lilly (Mila Kunis), a brash new dancer from California, sends Nina down a path of unexplored possibilities.


After toning down his trademark style to achieve documentary realism in The Wrestler, director once again ratchets sight and sound up to 11. There’s some call for this, as a movie about ballet should emphasize music and fluid motion. However, the persistent Clint Mansell score and overblown theatrics are a poor substitute for effective storytelling. Moreover, the body horror and mindscrew imagery that worked so wonderfully well in Requiem for a Dream feels out of place here. It’s one thing to indulge in the surreal when all the major characters are severely substance-addled, but as a reaction to stress, some of Black Swan’s visuals come off as downright ridiculous.


The single most irksome thing about this movie, however, is the implication that audiences wouldn’t understand it without the grandiosity. There are clear thematic parallels between Nina’s life and the show she’s a part of, and the Black Swan as a metaphor for repressed desire is easy enough to pick up. That doesn’t stop Aronofsky from beating the audience over the head to drive the point home, whether it’s a character telling Nina to loosen up every five minutes or so or some of the nightmares the girl herself experiences. These heavy-handed machinations leave the viewer with an urge to yell “We get it!” at the screen.


What salvages this film in a big way is the acting. Portman is terrific as Nina, portraying her as repressed, put-upon, and about-to-crack yet still graceful and doll-like. The supporting roles are all considerably more one-note, but the rival/vamp, the lecherous egotist of a director, the overbearing mother, and the washed-up former starlet are ably played by Kunis (for once, not a glaring weak link), Cassel, Hershey, and Winona Rider.

Further, even when he goes stylistically overboard, Aaronofsky proves himself quite capable at building and maintaining tension. That he can make a movie about ballet this exciting is a testament to his ability. The ending of film and show within are both depicted so powerfully that we are almost tempted to overlook the complete lack of plausibility in the waning moments.

Black Swan will likely please the type of viewer who equates evocation with brilliance. It’s a botched though noble effort, easily worth seeing for Portman’s performance as well as a glimpse of how much better it could have been.


7.5/10