COLE HOGAN
Arts Writer

Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan is a tactile psychological thriller twisting through the production of the ballet Swan Lake, exploring many of the themes in both the films of Darren Aronofsky and the world of ballet.

Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman) won the lead in Swan Lake and is perfect for the role of the White Swan due to her contained, straight-laced nature. Nina Sayers is a perfectionist, her painstaking attention to detail making her unsuitable to perform the Black Swan, lacking the unrestrained passion needed to perform the role.

As Nina Sayers goes through the production of Swan Lake and the pressures involved, she begins to lose her mind. She starts to see things that are not there and increasingly imagines herself growing wings. Black Swan possesses overlapping themes and ideas about doppelgangers and transformation, obsession and insanity themes that overwhelm the protagonists in other Darren Aronofsky films such as The Wrestler. Similarly, the two films share the idea of an artist towards the end of their career, the supposed end of their greatness approaching, and following the compulsion to succeed to a suicidal end. The protagonists both slip deeply into madness.

Vincent Cassel plays Thomas Leroy, the theatre conductor directing this version of Swan Lake. Leroy wants Nina to be the best and pushes her with no regard for her physical or mental health. Mila Kunis plays Lily, who would seemingly make a better Black Swan than Ms. Sayers because of her reckless nature and fluid dance. Somewhat of a friend and rival to Nina, Lily plays an influential part in the production and in Nina’s life and mental stability.

Sexual relationships are also prominent in Black Swan, the idea being that though you may be very talented dancer, it does not automatically elevate one’s status to the forefront of fame and the company. The competitive nature of the company brings forward themes of mortality, age and longevity. The younger dancers are nipping at Nina’s heels in order to obtain her spot. She must protect her spot in the company at all times, by any means, but is still reminded that the end is near.

As the character deteriorates physically and mentally, the audience is reminded of the common thread between artistic greatness and madness; the two are almost inseparable.

Regarding the cinematography in Black Swan— done by Matthew Libotique — one question rears its head repeatedly: Where on God’s green Earth is the camera? There are many mirrors in the film, as they are fundamental in ballet. One mirror alone will present a difficulty for a cinematographer; maneuvering through this minefield could not have been an easy task.

The mirrors do hearken back to the theme of doubles, and provide another layer to the Black Swan/White Swan juxtaposition. Nina begins to see herself reflected in other people, her transformation is mentally and physically apparent.

The camera follows Nina very closely, and seems to follow the same instructions the stage director Leroy gives her; the elaborate camera movements become looser and quick as Leroy gives more adamant instruction and in turn Nina starts to crack into a less rigid person, first through lifestyle, mind and then performance.

Perhaps one of the most stressful forms of method acting are exercised in Black Swan: self-destruction in order to give the perfect performance. As the character deteriorates physically and mentally, the audience is reminded of the common thread between artistic greatness and madness; the two are almost inseparable.

Very entertaining and stylistically amazing, Black Swan rips through the mentally pressing process of ballet production and pulls the story and excitement of Swan Lake with speed and bravado into a similarly stimulating tale.