Black Swan

Darren Aronofsky has always delighted in making idiosyncratic (read: a little bit mental) psychological thrillers. This trait can be traced from his brilliant debut, π, through the cult classic Requiem for a Dream, right up to his current film, Black Swan. Fans of Aronofsky’s earlier work who were in some way indifferent to the mawkish and depressing The Wrestler will not be disappointed; the film is unhinged delight of a picture with a strong hint of melodrama about it.

Heavily reminiscent of giallo classics such as Dario Argento’s Suspiria, it tells the story of twenty-something New York ballet dancer, Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman), and her struggles to play the lead role in a production of Swan Lake. Brittle Nina can easily pull off the vulnerable white swan but cannot, rather obviously, master the darker, more mysterious black swan. Already haunted by her domineering mother (Barbara Hershey) and the ageing, past-it lead ballerina she has replaced (Winona Rider), eating little and self-harming, Nina’s mind begins to come apart at the seams. To make matters worse, a new dancer, Lily (Mila Kunis), has joined the company and she just happens to be the exact opposite of Sayers: a free-spirited, uninhibited minx perfect for the portrayal of the black swan.

As the tension ratchets up inexorably, Nina plunges headlong into an eerie psychosis. She begins to see things and her reflection continues to stare back at her long after she has looked away. Added to that, her mother’s creepy infantilization and attempts at vicarious satisfaction become more obvious and they begin to clash. The paranoia doesn’t stop there as Nina is convinced that Lily is conspiring with the Gallic sleaze of a director, Thomas (Vincent Cassel), to take her part and an uncanny, feather-like rash begins to appear on her back.

So far, so ridiculous, one might say. But it is exactly that horror movie-style, bizarro lack of plausibility that lends the film such an exquisite charm and is so refreshing from a “big” awards contender. The tale of Swan Lake is so well known that there was hardly much scope for ventures into terra incognita, anyway. The performances, while a touch one-note (as befits the picture) are universally brilliant: a key piece in the films creepy crescendo. Those who go in expecting a strict, realist representation of a young woman battling to overcome her demons will be sorely disappointed. But those who go in open-minded and prepared to be taken along on a hysterical, jumpy, scary, visceral ride will be richly rewarded. Well worth the fare (even in London), go and catch it before Portman inevitably wins the Best Actress Oscar.