Black Swan was quite a stunning film. It was perhaps neither as dark nor as intelligent as I had hoped, but it was as intense as any film I have seen, and unfolded perfectly. A perfect, rather sheltered ballerina is given her big chance as a prima, debuting in the role of the Swan Queen in Swan Lake. She can perfectly capture the sweetness of the white swan, but the darker, madder side, the Black Swan – that is far more difficult for her to grasp, and she might just unravel if she tries to find a darker side to herself. Soon it is becoming difficult to tell reality and fantasy apart, and it seems like there’s another person altogether inside her. It’s a pretty classic story, the mental breakdown of the virtuous maiden, but the details are what make this one of the best films in many years. The gruesome viscera of hangnails and scissors. The brutality of what Winona Ryder’s character does. The unflinching way it represents ballet for what it is: oversexualised, objectifying and brutal to its dancers. The amazing soundtrack, perhaps the first time since Fantasia 2000 I’ve grinned with the pure pleasure of being in a cinema and hearing its speakers fully utilised, both in the incredibly powerful rendition of Tchaikovsky and in the pounding nightclub bass, genuinely turned up loud.
Some things didn’t quite work. The laughing pictures would have worked much better glimpsed even more briefly. I wanted more clarification about whether or not Nina actually went to the hospital the final time, and what happened if she did. And perhaps Natalie Portman, beautiful though she is, was a little too old for the part – although nobody could possibly have acted it better, as she hit every note perfectly, and was believable in all her aspects.
Certainly deserving of all its praise, I hope it becomes a classic, but if it doesn’t manage it, it won’t be so surprising.
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