H'ween Horrorthon: Black Swan

"If I were only casting the White Swan, she would be yours. But I'm not."Vincent Cassel as Thomas Leroy/The Gentleman

Hello again. So, my Halloween Horrorthon is now in full swing and this latest entry is the last one for September. Looking forward to regaling you with October's as I've lined up some major goodies, of which includes a perennial animated holiday favorite and even a short film with a certain pop music legend. At any rate, here's the latest in my movie repertoire and it's the first one from this decade.

This one's from Darren Aronofsky, who just recently released his latest film, Mother!, and of which I myself panned. See my review here.

But, Aronofsky, a fresh, original, maverick filmmaker in his own right, had already gained my admiration and respect when he made his first film back in 1998 called Pi, which was about a mathematician, played by Sean Gulette, who was convinced people were after him for his ability to see equations that can bring about biblical prophesies. It's grainy black and white and its allusion to the world of mathematics as allegory for all universal languages was fascinating to me. His film roster, which has more hallucinatory fare such as Requiem For a Dream in 2000, The Fountain, 2006, began to get him noticed. Then, in 2008, he gave actor Mickey Rourke the part of a lifetime in his non-horror film, The Wrestler, as an aging wrestler on his last leg.

Two years later, Aronofsky would do the unthinkable. Make a really shocking, visceral and surreal full-throttle horror film and set it in, of all places, the world of ballet dance. Unheard of? Oh, yes. But what he did was prove you could take a wonderful art form like ballet and turn it inside out and subject us to an almost heartless, cruel, and even horrific nightmare. In essence, he, like Stephen King, could make a horror story out of anything. And boy, did he EVER!

As it turns out, a great horror film needs a heroine; or even an anti-heroine, and Aronofsky's true stroke of genius was casting America's sweetheart Natalie Portman, who made her film debut in the 1994 Luc Besson action-thriller The Professional at the tender age of 13. She would gain acclaim and fame as Queen Padmé Amidala in the Star Wars: Episodes I, II, III prequels. Her genuine sweetness and wide angelic smile gave her a career as a model and TV spokeswoman; but clearly, Aronofsky saw the potential for showing malevolence through that sweet angel face. The role of Nina Sayers would be her most challenging role requiring Portman to retake ballet and master it. She would do the majority of her own dancing and show her audience and fans a much, much darker side than they're accustomed to seeing. The result? A box-office smash and her first Best Actress Oscar.

The 2010 Movie Poster

So, onto the plot. Sayers is a prima ballerina in a NYC dance company. A new director (Vincent Cassel) is casting his new "visceral" production of Pyotr Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake with a casting call for the Swan Queen. His eye turns to Nina. He sees potential for Nina as the Swan Queen, but only as the White Swan; not as the Black Swan. The role embodies a virginal sensibility along with a darker, more sexual carnality. Nina is far too girlish and sweet to consume herself in the role's duality. It doesn't help either that her mother (the brilliant Barbara Hershey, channeling Piper Laurie in Carrie) is so overbearing and under her constant microscope. Also, a new dancer (a wonderfully cast Mila Kunis who plays the role with exuberant relish) is far more of a free spirit than she is, making her more of a threat to her and her chance to play the role.

Nina is too much of a perfectionist, and the director knows this. He makes sexual advances, not so much to entice or titillate her, but to motivate her to free her more sexual, angry side. Does it work? Cassel, a veteran French actor and star, is so heinously controlling and abrasive, trying to humiliate her in order to bring out the Black Swan. To his credit, Cassel, who screams "smarmy" in his sleep, is far more complex than he let's on. Is he a prick? Clearly, but Cassel and Aronofsky understand the abusive side as a far more necessary tool to whip her into dark shape. And then, there's Lilly (Kunis), who may be awakening sexual feelings in Nina she may have not been aware of. Is Nina a lesbian? The film isn't content to answer that easily, but makes it clear that Nina's sheltered life may be unraveling and her sexual blossoming may be coming out a bit too late.

Then, there's Nina's visual acuity as her grip on reality is almost rapidly fading super-fast. She's self-mutilating and hallucinating violently. Her dedication to her craft is far too tight bordering on insanity that her sense of control is finally being lost. As the film progresses, we see Nina go from delicate china-doll ballerina to crazed, ready-to-ride-off-the-rails nutso—and all before the day of the opening performance.

I'll stop right here. I offer my two cents and it's just my opinion as Black Swan does what his latest film does not. Nina is an un-diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic, but the film never underlies or make it obvious to us at all. Aronofsky, working from a script by Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz, and John McLaughlin, which also takes elements and characters from the actual ballet itself, allows room for interpretation. Are all the images from Nina strictly from her mind? Are they modified realities, or just all out fantasies? We are allowed the right to interpret them as we want.

Moreover, Black Swan is truly a horror film—an authentic and human one. That's what makes it work so well, is its willingness to take us inside a girl's mind and break and splinter it without any mercy or apology. My hope is that Aronofsky remembers this for his next film (horror, or not) in that we as an audience, would like to discover the nuances and subtleties for ourselves. As for Natalie Portman, her transformation from virgin queen to insane demon is surmised by her in one word.

"Perfect."

Next Up: a trio of paranormal investigators in the 80s smash that made us love them in the first place. Sorry, 2016 reboot.