Black Swan

I usually don't read stuff written about a film before I write my little review, but I saw Black Swan in the theatre and that was quite a while ago. So I checked out the synopsis on the website... and then I checked out a couple of other sources, and I have to tell you that a lot has been written about this film and most of it is... well, misleading? at best. This isn't a psycho-thriller... it isn't a story about a dangerous friendship... or rivalry in the world of ballet. Black Swan is about mental illness and the descent into psychosis. That the protagonist just happens to be a ballerina contributes significantly to the surreal nature of that psychosis, to be sure. Oh, and sex. It's definitely a movie about sex.

Nina (Natalie Portman) is a talented ballerina striving for her first starring role. She's a cliche of sorts, dedicated to the point of having no life at all, living at home with her overbearing mother, childlike, naive and very, very needy. When her slightly sleazy director offers her the role of the Swan Queen, he maintains that he doubts she can handle the part of the Black Swan; she's far too virginal to play a seductress. To make matters worse, a new girl has joined the troupe, a sexpot named Lily (Mila Kunis) who seems interested in the starring role herself. As Nina is urged to explore her sexuality and to push her limits farther and farther, things start going ... odd. Is Lily out to destroy her or seduce her? What's with that rash? And can she really embody the guile and cunning of the Black Swan? Perfectly.

Natalie Portman portrays the fragile Nina perfectly indeed and earned every inch of that Oscar for Best Actress. Despite the fact that this story is deeply sexual, writer/director Darren Aronofsky (The Wrestler) manages to keep things hot without letting it slip toward porn via clever camera angles and minimal nudity (the infamous lesbian scene is mostly implied.) But more importantly the onset of a psychotic break from reality is really pretty accurate. Little hallucinations gradually lead to bigger and bigger delusions until Nina (and the audience) is not sure what is real and what is not. And like most people with mental illness, Nina is primarily dangerous only to herself. For that, I applaud Mr. Aronofsky. I will try to forgive him the prerequisite overbearing mother archetype. And whether you enjoy ballet or not, the final dance is quite possibly one of the most breathtaking scenes on film. Period. Website here.