Review: Black Swan
Don't be surprised if Darren Aronofsky's latest film, Black Swan, makes you want to see a ballet. From the first shot to the last, Black Swan is an allegorical performance piece wrapped up in a psychological thriller.
The twisted sister of Aronofsky's previous film The Wrestler, Black Swan centers on an emotionally fragile ballerina at a precarious cusp in her career, when her company is about to cast an ambitious re-imagining of Swan Lake. Obsessed with perfection, Nina (Natalie Portman) auditions for the coveted lead at the risk of her delicate psyche.
Like the roles she's rehearsing on stage, Nina is trapped by powerful forces beyond her control. Demanding artistic director Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel) forces Nina out of her comfort zone, while her mother (Barbara Hershey) is passive-aggressively protective. Rival dancer Lily (Mila Kunis) is always around to remind Nina of what she is not, and just how insecure her position is.
Andres Heinz's story (as written by Heinz, Mark Heyman and John J. McLaughlin) underscores the price some pay to achieve their dreams, drawing parallels with Swan Lake's story of the a young woman turned into a swan and love denied her because of the curse. The savvy viewer can guess a good deal of the overall Black Swan plot, but Aronofsky and the writers not only accept that but rely on it and build to a shattering climax in their own cinematic ballet. As Nina starts to buckle under the pressure, it's the entirety of the story that is enthralling as the line between reality and delusion blurs.
Deftly shot, the cinematography is synchronized to the score with strains of Tchaikovsky and Clint Mansell's original score hypnotically diffusing the boundaries between performance and life along with provocative sound design. Like The Wrestler, Aronofsky favors over-the-shoulder perspective shots, submerging the viewer into Nina's world when she's offstage. The rehearsal and performance shots add grandeur, and coupled with the momentary glimpses of often unseen or dismissed moments create a sumptuous panorama of both the ballet and Nina's mindscape.
Even the best designed sound and cinematography can't overcome casting, but again, Black Swan excels in this arena. Natalie Portman not only looks the part, she expresses the stress Nina struggles with while keeping it interesting, which is no mean feat. She is not just in every scene, but in most shots, and she carries it as well as any seasoned prima ballerina. Cassel manages to be equal parts mentor and tormentor even with his limited screen time -- simultaneously a cad with artistic temperament and a true genius coaxing the best possible performances from his dancers. Hershey is also sparingly used, and equally makes the most of her time.
The surprise casting may be Mila Kunis as Nina's rival, Lily. Lily is fearlessly expressive and visceral, Nina's foil and a symbiotic catalyst for her transformations, and Kunis proves to be Portman's equal. A veteran of comedy on the small screen, Kunis has been building her repertoire as a supporting player in comedy films, and hopefully Black Swan will open doors for bigger, dramatic roles for her.
Black Swan may be a fractured fairy tale, but it delivers visually, aurally and intellectually. Don't be surprised to find yourself heading back to the theater to watch the movie again on the big screen. Or if you find yourself checking out the Austin Ballet's performance calendar.