Sunday, February 27, 2011

Black Swan


CAST: Natalie Portman, Mila Kunis, Winona Ryder, Sebastian Stan, Vincent Cassel, Janet Montgomery, Barbara Hershey,Christopher Gartin, Toby Hemingway, Kristina Anapau; DIRECTOR: Darren Aronofsky; WRITER: Andres Heinz, Mark Heyman, John McLaughlin; GENRE: Drama, Suspense/Thriller; RUNNING TIME: 110 min.

Technical Assessment: 4
Moral Assessment: 1.5
CINEMA Rating: For viewers 18 and above.


A ballerina with the New York Ballet Company, Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman) gets her dream role as Queen Swan when the impresario Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel) thinks Beth (Wynona Rider) has become too old for the role. As Swan Lake’s lead dancer, however, NIna has to inhabit two roles—the good White Swan and the evil Black Swan. The problem is while Nina has her technique honed to perfection, she lacks the passion to fill the Black Swan part. At 28 she is still treated by her mother Erica (Barbara Hershey) as though she were 20 years younger, sleeping in a bedroom all pink and fluffy and populated by teddy bears and other stuffed toys. Not for a moment dissuaded by Nina’s frigidity, Leroy spurs her on with calculated seduction, teasing her and then tormenting her by flying in the passionate Lily (Mila Kunis) from California to dance the Black Swan part. Partly to fulfill her ideal of perfection and partly to spite her overprotective mother—a retired dancer living her life through her daughter’s career—Nina is inevitably lured to explore her dark side.

Every single actor in Black Swan have all their feathers neatly in place: smooth, credible performance, good line delivery, great rapport all the way. Cassel is as charming as a devil can be. Hershey fits the aging stage mama role to a T. And Portman gives a performance worth a standing ovation. She’s really good at such roles—as in The Other Boleyn Girl—playing flawed characters who are definitely assured of a place in Dante’s Inferno. Director Darren Aronofsky carries you away with his sense of aesthetics; you get so busy gawking at his mesmerizing art that you lose track and don’t question anything till the end when you somehow suspect you’ve been had.

The story is seen from the point of view of an artist—Nina—who instead of losing herself in her art loses her sanity. Thus the thin line between reality and fantasy is blurred, and it’s you who lose yourself in Tchaikovsky’s music (albeit chopped up and overlayed with electronic muck reminiscent of Terminator). And when Nina does what she does at the end of the dance, you wake up and say, “Hey, wait a minute! How can you be so sure this act is not another nightmare or hallucination or one of those fears and fantasies that rattle her in her sleep and lull her to stupor when she’s awake?”

Who the hell cares? The point is, for CINEMA, aesthetics isn’t everything—neither is technique. Black Swan is both eye candy and tricky brainteaser, sure, but where’s the meat? Its only saving grace in terms of ethical content is the devotion Nina has for her craft, her drive towards perfection. But then again, the devotion crosses the boundary to neurosis, and the drive leads to the perfection of self-destruction. Black Swan is not about ballet—in fact it’s unflattering to the ballet industry; it’s more about an obsession dipped in the glitter of high art but which remains lowly nonetheless because the film chooses to overpower the heroine by her semi-conscious acquiescence to evil. Ask yourself: In the misguided pursuit of perfection is it worth sacrificing your soul for your art?