Black SwanWhen you look in the mirror, who do you see? Do you see the person you are, or do you see the person you wish to be? Or maybe, do you see the person you are afraid to be? Our idea of "self" can be overpowering--consuming, even--to the point where we fracture our perceptions of reality in the pursuit of an image of self which we hold ourselves to embody. We all dream, we all look toward the goals we set for ourselves as the finish line; but sometimes the pursuit can push us to red-line and we lose sight of the ultimate purpose for our pursuits: to enrich our lives and not enslave us.
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Black Swan is the story of Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman), a talented ballerina, a perfectionist who lives under the command of her controlling mother (Barbara Hershey). Nina has dreams of being the Swan Queen in the latest, "visceral" production of Swan Lake by the company director, Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel). The film opens with a prologue of her dreaming, dancing as the "White Swan", the sweet, virginal aspect of the Swan Queen. And from the start, the lines begin to blur between the fantasy and reality, between the world of make believe and the real world. Nina has led a sheltered life, and her singular obsession has been ballet. Our trust that Nina is a stable protagonist is the great sleight of hand by director Darren Aronofsky--we want to believe Nina is of sound mind, but there is too much compounding the illusion, casting the shadow of doubt on that idea. Just as Nina's life blurs the lines between the real and the mirror world, so too does the line between the story of Swan Lake grow faint between it and Black Swan--and madness follows. The ambiguity is a persistent veil, making the actual events of the story open to interpretation whether Nina is awakening to her real self as an act of rebellion against her mother, her image of herself as a "goody-goody", or whether she is simply pushing herself over the edge--and into the abyss--out of compulsion, out of a need to polish her porcelain mask of perfection. Black Swan is a tale of transformation, of a transgressive metamorphosis beyond the cocoon of sheltered childhood and the harsh, vicious pain of adulthood. Nina's dedication is fire consuming her--confutatis maledictis, indeed; without her dance, she is nothing...without control, she does not exist. But how can one live like this? There is a rage which is awakened as she transforms herself--from light to dark, from the "white swan" into the black.
Nina's obsessiveness, her slave-like mentality to please others and be "perfect" is a response fostered by her domineering mother, who vicariously relives her glory days as a dancer through Nina. And as a result, Nina holds herself to an impossible ideal, refusing to let herself fail. Ironically, this perfection is the very hurdle which Thomas claims is holding her back from expressing herself as the black swan, as the complete package of light and dark. For Nina, the paradox that her obsessive need to be perfect is what is holding her back is the most profound pain, a dagger in her gut which worms its way into her, and setsthe spark to ignite her gradual nervous breakdown. She does not want do disappoint, but she must succeed at any cost, even at that of her own soul...what could be a more fitting tale of a descent into darkness? Darren Aronofsky's film is a technically complex one, filled with a high degree of authenticity--replete with skilled dancing and experts of ballet cast in background roles--creating an almost documentary-like feeling...all the more disarming, given the psychological thriller which Black Swan really is. The basic tension of Black Swan has to do with the idea that it is possible that there is a conspiracy against Nina stoked by Lily (Mila Kunis), a rival dancer who embodies a free spirit, the yin to Nina's yang. It is possible that Thomas is trying to seduce Nina and turn her into his next "little princess", like Nina's predecessor and idol, Beth MacIntyre (Winona Ryder)...it is all possible. But it is also possible that it is all in Nina's head, and that these shadows which haunt her in her peripheral vision, in the reflections of the mirror, are nothing more than that: shadows. The predominance of mirrors and reflections highlight Nina's inner vanity, and the duality of her psyche...her inner black swan wanting to get out. Alternately, these phantoms embody the image she is primping herself to become, that obsessive need to portray herself as others want her to be, or at least what she thinks they want her to be. Devilishly clever tricks of light imply that Lily is a dark reflection of Nina, a mirror facet of her concealed impulses; her lust for Lily is a lust for herself. Mirrored reflections slink in with a cruel slyness, wearing Nina's face, and do her harm, mutilate her, attack her, and take over, an inner conflict manifest. Black Swan elucidates a key truth of tragedy: that which lurks in the dark is always more interesting than what is beheld in the light.
Recommended for: Fans of a powerful and tense thriller about obsession and the way it dictates our lives and can ruin them in the process, and about the lengths we can go to in the pursuit of perfection.
Nina's obsessiveness, her slave-like mentality to please others and be "perfect" is a response fostered by her domineering mother, who vicariously relives her glory days as a dancer through Nina. And as a result, Nina holds herself to an impossible ideal, refusing to let herself fail. Ironically, this perfection is the very hurdle which Thomas claims is holding her back from expressing herself as the black swan, as the complete package of light and dark. For Nina, the paradox that her obsessive need to be perfect is what is holding her back is the most profound pain, a dagger in her gut which worms its way into her, and setsthe spark to ignite her gradual nervous breakdown. She does not want do disappoint, but she must succeed at any cost, even at that of her own soul...what could be a more fitting tale of a descent into darkness? Darren Aronofsky's film is a technically complex one, filled with a high degree of authenticity--replete with skilled dancing and experts of ballet cast in background roles--creating an almost documentary-like feeling...all the more disarming, given the psychological thriller which Black Swan really is. The basic tension of Black Swan has to do with the idea that it is possible that there is a conspiracy against Nina stoked by Lily (Mila Kunis), a rival dancer who embodies a free spirit, the yin to Nina's yang. It is possible that Thomas is trying to seduce Nina and turn her into his next "little princess", like Nina's predecessor and idol, Beth MacIntyre (Winona Ryder)...it is all possible. But it is also possible that it is all in Nina's head, and that these shadows which haunt her in her peripheral vision, in the reflections of the mirror, are nothing more than that: shadows. The predominance of mirrors and reflections highlight Nina's inner vanity, and the duality of her psyche...her inner black swan wanting to get out. Alternately, these phantoms embody the image she is primping herself to become, that obsessive need to portray herself as others want her to be, or at least what she thinks they want her to be. Devilishly clever tricks of light imply that Lily is a dark reflection of Nina, a mirror facet of her concealed impulses; her lust for Lily is a lust for herself. Mirrored reflections slink in with a cruel slyness, wearing Nina's face, and do her harm, mutilate her, attack her, and take over, an inner conflict manifest. Black Swan elucidates a key truth of tragedy: that which lurks in the dark is always more interesting than what is beheld in the light.
Recommended for: Fans of a powerful and tense thriller about obsession and the way it dictates our lives and can ruin them in the process, and about the lengths we can go to in the pursuit of perfection.