Black Swan

Black Swan tells the tale of how a ballet dancer struggles to perfect her role in time for her debut performance as the star in “Swan Lake”, or at the very least a variation on it. It also has the potential to be remembered as director Darren Aronofsky’s signature piece, a shameless amalgamation of his previous works. In the mould of his 2008 Oscar nominated film The Wrestler, it is an intimate character piece, in which we are forced to watch a person put their body through various extremes to please an audience. In a similar manner to Pi it is a paranoid thriller, and it also mimics the analytical openness of The Fountain and the examination of a twisted human mind that is shown in Requiem for a Dream. And in combining these elements he has created something of a masterpiece.

The film centres heavily on Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman), and her manner is depicted during the opening scenes in which she dances beautifully, only to reveal the pain and suffering thrust upon her by her swollen, cut and sore feet. It is her sacrifice and one that she is willing to make for her profession. Her home life also tells a lot about her character. Living only with her deranged mother Erica (Barbara Hershey), a strong presence both on screen and in the life of Nina, she is pampered and looked after like a little child, her innocence superseded only by her focus and dedication to her work. She is a delicate girl living a sheltered existence, sacrificing a more balanced lifestyle in exchange for a chance at her dream. She is the proverbial white swan.

However, underneath the existential “white swan” purity displayed by Nina, there is a different side to her, a darker side. It is not entirely clear if she herself is aware of this- some signs certainly point to a deliberate rejection of her other half- but either way the “black swan” of her persona is repressed, and locked away. Ironically, it is this side to her that she must unlock to fully unleash her potential as a dancer, and to perfect her role in the ballet.

As one would expect this psychological duality eventually begins to take its toll, and it is through her journey of discovery that she begins to lose her mental stability. The pressure on her character is understandably immense; it is essential she transcends herself to achieve the perfection that she craves, or else ruin her shot at the big time. As a result of this her descent into madness is as shocking as it is rapid, and she experiences numerous visions of defections to her physicality; the mildest of which being the peeling off of her finger and toenails, and culminating in a complete breakdown of her limbs. In fact, the sprinklings of aural and visual displeasure utilised to display her deformation are so revolting that Black Swan could easily be afforded a borderline horror classification, a good summation of the manner in which the director’s vision has been put together.

The white swan/ black swan mirroring of the protagonist provides a good starting point for much of the psychosis that occurs with Nina, in a literal sense there are mirrors everywhere. Aside from the obvious practical use for routines, it is also no coincidence that Portman’s character spends so long in the presence of a mirror, if not dancing then examining a mysterious rash on her back. Each one echoes the innocent Nina’s movement, coercing her dark side to make an appearance- encouraging it’s arrival into existence.

With all this in mind, it is Natalie Portman’s portrayal of Nina which will long live in the memory, almost certain to be consigned to history as the winner of the Best Actress Oscar. From her early days in Leon, to a trilogy of Star Wars films, and many other successful projects such as V for Vendetta and Closer, it is clear that although she has never been honoured at the highest level, she is a very talented actor. This time she offers a superb multi-layered exposé of a very troubled young lady, and in particular it is her display of emotional fragility which is frequent, believable, and outstanding.

It is career defining stuff, not least because it becomes difficult to distinguish between the actor and the character, with the latter merely mirroring Natalie Portman on screen. An obvious comparison would be to say that as much as Portman garners our attention throughout, Nina is attracting the same attention from her world within the film. Both are the sole star, both are asked to do very demanding roles, and both come with a lot of media attention.

On top of this, both are subjected to the physical pains of ballet- Portman herself trained in dance for around a year before shooting (although she didn’t do all of the dancing herself), as well as the mental and emotional strains that you would expect to come with such an intense role. In a sense, this takes us beyond cinema and film; it is almost documentary- A reimagining of Portman’s life, a subtext to the real world.

There is far more to the piece than just Portman’s stunning performance however, and Aronofsky’s stylistic choices are to be applauded. His depiction of the world of ballet is both bold and remarkable, attempting to dismantle age old connotations of a “dream” profession in a fairytale world. The once fabulous, entertaining and grandiose vocation is quickly replaced by a harsh reconstruction of the reality of show business; it is a dark, seedy, painful and monotonous one with little chance of success and where the beauty on show is merely a facade covering up the desperate reality that lies beneath. Shattered dreams indeed, encapsulated in convention challenging abundance.

This nightmarish world is not only dark emotionally, but also visually. The presence of Nina’s repressed dark side loom over her more and more through the film, and this is visually represented by Aronofsky through the use of the ethereal darkness of the theatre and its rehearsal space. Whether it is shadows, empty seats or merely the bleak walls, a combination of these factors along with the gritty manner in which Black Swan is shot provides a constant reminder of the world Nina finds herself in.

For all the miserable darkness and pain though, there is also the brilliance. Every minute spent in the shadows rehearsing after hours is more than compensated for by the slick black tie gatherings, and of course the opening gala. It is this type of contrast which is forced upon the viewing audience at every turn. Contrasts are present in abundance from the dark rehearsals and the fantastically colourful and visual extravaganza of the stage, to the elegance of the dancers in comparison to their battered and pained bodies, even down to Nina’s virginal dress code against Lily’s threatening black attire; the constant allusion to the black / white swan doppelganger is there.

And clothing aside, Lily provides the physical embodiment of this. She has all of the attributes lacking in Nina; she is a wild, passionate, free spirited, outgoing girl, the opposite in every way to Nina’s reserved, sheltered and withdrawn demeanour. Her freedom is shown off proudly to everyone in the form of a large tattoo on her upper back –resembling black wings of course, and naturally enough she dances the black swan effortlessly.

In the middle of this austere world is a man called Tomas Leroy (Vincent Cassell), the director of the production. As Nina was his choice, it becomes his responsibility to force a transformation upon her in whatever means possible, while also gaining as much as he can from his position of power. Acting almost as a God figure, the world around him is what he makes it and his constant watchful eye over proceedings allows a special presence- one of a very powerful man. It is hardly surprising that he has a history of using the girls to his own satisfaction, particularly in the case of the emotional and outdated Beth Mcintyre (Winona Ryder) however it appears as though his reputation is untarnished – or at the very least not spoken of in public places. His forwardness and uninhibited approach to sexuality acts as the catalyst to Nina’s change, opening her eyes to a wider world- at least in a sexual sense.

Black Swan is a memorable and original film that is more than deserving of the plaudits that come its way. It is perhaps a little too open-ended for some people, and the mix of gritty realism with the lunacy-induced special effects may take from the overall experience. The performance of Portman is something that will be talked about for years to come, but the supporting cast is equally impressive as a unit, offering a unique life and feel to the world in which Nina is a part of. Overall it is an outstanding psychological thriller, and one that will quite rightly be remembered as one of the films of 2011.

Rating:

5/5