Black Swan (2010)

OVERALL SCORE: 8.75/10

As a director, Darren Aronofsky is a lot of things. He is devious, eclectic, nuanced, calculating, and above all mind boggling. One thing Aronofsky is most indisputably not, is subtle. Aronofsky's volatile style to filmmaking embeds each film with a mixture of reality and delusion. Every twist and turn is an exercise in the viewer's mind, and understanding of the world. He plays against audience's understanding that seeing is believing, while asking them to feed into that role. In essence, he makes movies that need to be watched multiple times. I should have known that going in.

It is perhaps appropriate that Aronofsky's next film is a studio blockbuster. For Black Swan is the accumulation of everything he has done to date. Like The Wrestler it deals with the physical and emotional strain of working in a world where eyes are constantly upon you. The need to present this idealistic image regardless of the cost. Like The Fountain and Pi, Black Swan disjoints reality. There is no focal point from which we can derive fact from fiction. Any argument made in one direction, could easily be opposed by those in other directions. Then of course you have Requiem for a Dream. Frantic, dubious, and obsessed, Black Swan dives into the territory of addiction. However, unlike drugs, Nina Sayers' (Natalie Portman) addiction is to perfection. She has to be perfect. She was raised to be perfect. Anything less means the destruction of her self image and the way she views the world.

To capture that Aronofsky brilliantly uses mirrors. At every turn, twist, and move, Nina is constantly being reminded of how she looks. Interestingly still, the mirrors represent something entirely unique for Nina. When she looks into them she sees not herself, but a projection of all the things she can't see elsewhere. All her faults and transformations are bundled up into the mirrors, and only they can show her what she fears she is, or what she wishes to be. As her mind loses control on reality, these projections become increasingly more realistic. Eventually reaching a boiling point by which Nina destroys the projection she has slowly manifested throughout the film, and imbues herself with that image.

One of the aspects of Black Swan that I found most captivating is the obsession with physical perfection. Nina and her fellow company members are constantly being pushed to perform more and more strenuous tasks. A nail file Nina steals, which she uses aggressively to remove even the slighted imperfections, becomes the manifestation of that physical perfection for her. Still, on a subconscious level, Nina seems to reject the notion of perfection. She files away any imperfection in her nails, yet in a pseudo-masochistic release she uses these same fingernails to scratch at her shoulders to the point of causing physical damage. Destroying the facade of perfection, it ironically merely adds another thing for Nina to obsess over.

Now whether or not her self-harm is a mental projection Aronofsky leaves up to the viewer. As he does much of the film. A certain number of elements in Black Swan seem to be grounded enough that they maintain some sentiment of reality, but there's lots of leeway for discussion and disorientation. Luckily enough, Portman is perfect in guiding us through these flailing frames of reference. She embodies the conflicting maturity and childlike attributes that make Nina a captivating character. Every crick, crack, and pop is pronounced to the viewer, highlighting Portman's borderline Bale/Machinist style physicality. Whenever I was worried that her character was starting to get stale, Aronofsky would step in and crank up the mental deterioration of Nina. Portman never shies away from these, and fully engulfs herself in the role.

Mila Kunis ups her game tenfold as Nina's nemesis (of sorts) Lily. She is seductive, deceiving, and exactly what Nina needs (or doesn't need) her to be. Barbara Hershey as Nina's controlling ex-ballerina mother, Erica, serves as the perfect counter to Lily. Like a devil on one shoulder and a flawed angel on the other, Hershey and Kunis represent the conflicting duality Nina faces as stress takes hold. Hershey may be obsessive, but her primary goal is the well being, and supporting, of Nina. Lily, on the other hand, constantly pulls Nina into a world of sexuality and malice. Add in Vincent Cassel's confident turn as the alluring Thomas, and Winona Ryder's ghost of Christmas future incarnation as the forcefully defunct ballerina Beth, it becomes easy to see why Nina's breakdown reaches a boiling point at supersonic speeds.

When the credits role on Black Swan the only coherent thought that sprang to my mind was 'crap, now I have to watch it again.' Unlike so many films which would like for you to watch them again, Black Swan requires it. Nitpicky issues I had with the film could be justifiable problems. Or they could be expository moments interwoven by Arronofsky that can't be fully absorbed unless viewed with knowledge of the greater context of the film. It's the sort of movie I imagine watching five years from now on my nth viewing and being mesmerized by all the intricacies imbued throughout Aronofsky's tale. Yet that's only one possibility. The chance that I very well may watch this years from now and feel as if something is still missing always looms overhead. As such, Black Swan is a film I believe can be appreciated to the highest of degrees on a first viewing, but not wholly understood. Only time will tell if there really is an intrinsic power underneath all that chaos. For Aronofsky's sake, and to some extent my own, I truly and deeply hope so.


Film Credits:
Directed By: Darren Aronofsky
Written By: Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz, and John J. McLaughlin