Directed by Darren Aronofsky. 113 minutes.
Starring Natalie Portman, Mila Kunis, Vincent Cassel, Barbara Hershey and Winona Ryder. Released by Fox Searchlight Pictures.
Black Swan is a psychosexual fever dream that ratchets up its intensity as it speeds along to its delirious destination, paying homage along the way to a number of directors, from Dario Argento and David Lynch to Brian De Palma, but all the while retaining that je ne sais quoi that is specific to the films of Darren Aronofsky. For some, this will not be an easy sit. Cinematographer Matthew Libatique often pushes past our boundaries of comfort with his tight close-ups of characters who are not only intense people, but potentially on the brink of insanity and there is enough cuticle mutilation in the film to make even the most hardened moviegoer cringe. But although Black Swan occasionally revels in Grand Guignol antics and melodramatics, the picture is a work of a serious artist delving deeply into his subject. Each cast member delivers with equal aplomb.
As the film opens, Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman) is a ballerina on the verge of a career breakthrough. The director (Vincent Cassel) of her New York company is looking for a new Swan Queen for his production of Swan Lake after having forced aging dancer/lover Beth (Winona Ryder) into retirement. The catch is that the production’s lead must also take on the role of the Black Swan, an evil twin who steals the Swan Queen’s love, prompting the chaster sister to commit suicide. Nina becomes a front runner for the role, but this opportunity soon leads her down a dark path.
Living in a near childlike state under the protection of her creepily overbearing mother (Barbara Hershey), Nina strives in her work for a state of “perfection.” Aronofsky contrasts her mother’s nightly tucks-in, which include playing a music box on which a figurine of a ballerina spins and a pink-adorned room filled with large stuffed animals, with Nina’s struggles at her ballet company. Cassel’s lecherous director prompts Nina to explore her sexuality, often leading her only to prove that she needs to open up as a dancer and not be so frigid. A new dancer, Lily (Mila Kunis), joins the company and brings with her the temptations of cigarettes, booze, drugs and sex. Soon, Nina is fearful that Lily is gunning for her role. Or is she? “Every dancer in the country wants your role,” Cassel tells Nina.
The film becomes more intense as it leaps and bounds towards its second half. Creepy visions abound. Is someone stalking Nina? Is she really mutilating her fingernails and toenails or are these merely figments of her imagination? A masturbation sequence proves to be one of the film’s funnier moments, of which the picture has fewer and fewer as it moves along. The film’s last quarter, beginning with a red-lit nightclub scene, is a descent, of sorts. It becomes all the more delirious, absurd and demented as Nina plummets into her own psyche. I mean this as a complement.
The film is perfectly cast. Portman is a revelation and deserves all the early award talk that she is receiving. The supporting players are just as strong: Cassel is a sleazeball of the most charming sort, Kunis brings a sense of humor and a playful sensuality to her role, Hershey is downright creepy and Ryder is pitch perfect as the declining diva. Aronofsky is one of the foremost talents of his generation. The film jolts and unnerves as only the work of a master filmmaker can do. Black Swan is an eerie, occasionally horrifying and ultimately moving picture – similar in tone to the director’s Requiem for a Dream and his other athlete film, The Wrestler – that follows a perfectionist as she slides further and further down the rabbit hole in the pursuit of sacrificing oneself for one’s art.