Day 139: Black Swan

"I just want to be perfect."

One of the most gut wrenching films I’ve seen has to be Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining. Certainly, there were ghastly elements to it that seared my eyes, but what was so suspenseful about Kubrick’s film is that he let it exist with no bounds. From Jack Nicholson’s larger than life performance to a telepathic child, the film lived off of the preposterous. This is all initially jarring, but the level of insanity the film reaches eventually gives way to an unpredictable sense of dread. Although there have been many films that have attempted to replicate the horror found within The Shining, only a handful of them have been able to match Kubrick’s controlled descent into madness. One such film would be Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan, a sexualized thriller set in the world of ballet.

Much like in The Shining, Black Swan revolves around the disintegration of a character’s mental integrity. We open up on Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman), a ballerina whose hard work is aimed at reaching a level of perfection. A lot of this is built within her desire to achieve admiration from a crowd, but most of it emanates from her mother Erica (Barbara Hershey), a former dancer herself, who pushes her daughter to achieve a greatness she herself couldn’t reach. One could argue that Nina’s mother just wants the best for her, but this reasoning goes out the window when Nina’s mother coerces her to avoid an adult social life. Despite living a sheltered life, Nina for the most part is successful. She’s seen as a great technical dancer and has a supporting role in a ballet company. Unfortunately, this isn’t enough as she yearns for the spotlight. Nina’s desperation for a lead role hits its peak when her company’s first performance of the year will be Swan Lake, a tale about an innocent white swan who loses the love of her life to a free spirited black swan. With the lead role set to play both the white and black swan, Nina sees an opportunity to become a starlet.

Yet, Nina’s skill set doesn’t allow her to play both sides. With her innocence in abundance and her dancing technically impeccable, she’s only good for the White Swan. As for the Black Swan, Nina lacks the power to transform her rigidness into sexual grace. Her audition demonstrates this, but through a misguided sexual encounter with her director (Vincent Cassel), Nina wins the role. What should be a momentous event for Nina evolves into tragedy. Upon being named the lead, Nina begins working at an exhaustive rate, a point that goes unacknowledged when a new dancer, Lily (Mila Kunis), arrives on the scene. It’s through the emergence of Lily that Nina lets paranoia infect her mind with self doubt and jealousy. Nina’s lack of trust in her counterpart is understandable considering that Lily is practically the antithesis of Nina. Her dancing needs more refining, but her ability to inject passion and sexuality is desirable. In many respects, she is the Black Swan, and Nina begins to take notice of what could be her competition if she fails to achieve the seductive nature of the Black Swan in her rehearsals. What happens from this point on could only be classified as bat shit crazy. With her desire to reject her innocence and take on a sexualized persona, Nina pushes herself mentally and physically to emulate Lily.

It’s a venture that often fails and is further worsened by Nina’s growing paranoia amidst the unrelenting pressure of her mother. Soon, Nina is stricken with anxiety attacks as her mind wanders between reality and nightmares. Much like in The Shining, where reality and insanity blended into one seamless environment, Nina’s world begins to warp in frightening ways as she pushes her to the brink of devastation. From seeing swans having sex to seeing doubles of herself, Nina’s mind begins to unravel in unison with her deteriorating body. Portman’s ability to manifest Nina’s insecurities and fears is awe inspiring as she goes for broke in nearly every scene. Portman’s expenditure of emotion and sanity is only matched by her physical performance for which she is actively involved with the rigorous training and dancing her character faces. Assisting Portman’s exploration of her character is Mila Kunis who aggressively delivers a sexual freedom that continuously exceeds the grasp of Nina. Pushing these two characters farther is Darren Aronofsky’s unwavering desire to make his film wave its freak flag high.

This is most noticeable in Aronofsky’s insistence to show the human body being mutilated in various ways. Some of the desecration is of an athletic nature like a busted toe nail while others revolve around a body that is exhibiting otherworldly behavior. In spite of the physical trauma, there is a morbid beauty to Aronofsky’s visual flair. Balancing a palette of black and white, Aronofsky assembles a surreal vibe that not only hastens Nina’s downfall, but also restricts our grasp on reality. Aronofsky is known for his ability to create a mood, so it’s this aspect of the film that truly doesn’t come as a surprise. It’s well done, but Aronofsky’s biggest achievement is his ability, along with his choreographer, to shoot the dance sequences with great fluidity. Featuring Clint Mansell’s operatic score, the ballet sequences dip and dive at break neck speed. They too possess a surreal quality that furthers the hypnotic power the film holds over the audience. In  many respects, the dance sequences are a micro chasm of Black Swan as a whole. Even though there are moments of absurd melodrama that threaten to turn the film into camp, Aronofsky and Portman regain footing to deliver a film that grasps the viewer on almost every level. Only time will tell if the film works its way into pop culture in the same vain as Kubrick’s The Shining. Until then, we can rest comfortably knowing that in the very least, Black Swan revels in its deranged premise and succeeds because of it.