BLACK SWAN Horrifies and Transcends (Review)

A horror movie that imparts a sense of dread even while it dazzles the eye, BLACK SWAN lays open the delicate psyche of a ballet dancer who appears to be splintering under the pressure of her first star performance. It's a harrowing tale, incredibly well-performed by Natalie Portman, who is tossed hither and fro in a sea of stormy emotions that swamps the lines between hard-bitten reality and nightmarish fantasy.

Director Darren Aronofsky, working from a screenplay credited to Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz, and John J. McLaughlin, sets a tone of unease with the film's very first scene. Nina Sayers (Portman) is dancing "Swan Lake" on a stage that resembles liquid gossamer. She looks ... perfect.

And then she wakes up.

From then on, we're never entirely sure if what we're witnessing is reality or fantasy, a notion that is furthered by the unnerving sound design, the sometimes deranged musical score by Clint Mansell (which complements and comments upon the classical music), and the fluttering photography by Matthew Libatique, which looks like it was shot from the point of view of an assault and battery victim who has yet to recover her full range of vision; it feels like certain colors fade in and out, with no discernible pattern.

Nina, after winning the coveted role of the Swan Queen in "Swan Lake," begins placing even more pressure upon herself in order to fulfill the demands of the part. Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel), the ballet company's director, has already made it clear that he feels she is lacking the passion and sensuality to properly convey the darker side of her dance character. He drives her relentlessly, adding another layer of unease with his sexual game-playing; does he want to sleep with her or simply help her improve?

Nina's mother, Erica, is an uptight, controlling stage mother, a former dancer herself, and her smothering attitude in their tiny, shared apartment means that Nina is under pressure 24 hours a day; she can't even masturbate in peace. Her hair tied tight and her face drawn, the still-beautiful Barbara Hershey looks like a harridan. But here, too, we're not sure: is she driving her daughter insane or simply trying to protect and support her?

More pressure comes from new dancer Lily (Mila Kunis), a free and open spirit who befriends Nina and tries to loosen her up with bars, booze, and breasts (her own). Is she a duplicitous competitor trying to undermine Nina in order to snatch the part away or simply a friendly sort with no agenda of her own?

As Nina spirals downward emotionally and soars upward on the dance floor, Aronofsky is expertly manning the controls behind the scenes. But even as you're aware of the filmmaking techniques that he's employing, it's impossible not to be impressed with his light touch. A heavier hand might have made the film unbearably grim. Nina's story may be draining to watch, but it's such a sensuous experience that it becomes damn near transcendent.

And thoughts of spiritual transcendence are nicely countered by the down-to-earth details: the dreary, subterranean, cinder-block dressing rooms of the dancers; the cramped apartment shared by Nina and her mother (perhaps the most realistic Manhattan apartment ever depicted on film); the intricate routine of prepping ballet slippers for performance.

The performances are as fine-tuned as the sound and visuals. Portman is extraordinary, Cassell magnetic, and Hershey quietly ugly. Kunis makes her effervescence threatening, and Winona Ryder, as the aging former queen of the ballet company, adds a bitter taste to the afterglow of fame and fortune.

At times, BLACK SWAN threatens to follow conventional lines or fall into expected patterns. But it's really more like a passionate storm, streaked with highly-charged emotional lightning. You're never quite sure where the lightning will hit.