Black Swan (2010)

I know I've seen this at least five times.  I love it so much.  And it's my pick this week, so all of Cinema Club gets to share my joy at this extended metaphor for puberty.  It remains my absolute favorite Aronofsky.  The only trouble I had was what to pair it with for Movie Club.  I almost went with Jennifer's Body, because that continues the thread of Teen Girls Being Horrifying but then I remembered how good Cassell is here at being a gross creeper and thought Brotherhood of the Wolf.  But I decided to go with a non-horror musical because I didn't want to be too Extra.  Originally posted 18 Dec 10.    Finally!  I've been waiting for weeks to see this movie.  And it did not disappoint.

Holy shit, was this disturbing.  The creepy visuals started way earlier than I would have expected, too.  I guess because there were So. Many. Of. Them.  There were several times where I was violently startled. I'm not going to tell you which parts.  When you see, you'll know.

Okay, okay, just one...

She's in the bathroom washing her hands and notices a hangnail bleeding.  She starts to pull it off and peels a strip of skin all the way past her second knuckle.  /whole body shudder

Subtle wrongness permeates every facet of this movie so much so that it would be impossible to list.  My favorites:  the beat of wings in the sound of dancers' footsteps, the claw-like shape of Barbara Hershey's hand on her daughter's shoulder, and the abundant (and freaky) use of mirrors.

Here's the story synapsis:  Nina Sayres (Natalie Portman) is a repressed ballerina desperate to play the lead in Swan Lake.  She lives with her controlling, borderline-psychologically-abusive mother, a failed ballerina who doesn't hesitate to blame her daughter for that failure.  The company director thinks she's perfect for the role of the White Swan but too sexually frigid to play the evil twin.  I'll leave it to you to decide if his efforts to 'loosen her up' fall under the category of Avant-Garde Genius or Sexual Predator.  He gives her the part anyway on the eve of announcing the "retirement" of the company's prima ballerina, Winona Ryder.  The queen is dead, long live the queen.

Hands down, Winona has the creepiest role in the entire film.  It single-handedly restored my respect for her as an actress.

Anyway, so once Nina has the part she starts to come completely unglued and becomes convinced one of the other dancers, Lily (Mila Kunis), is trying to use her overt sexuality to steal the role.  This is not as major a stretch of paranoia in the world of professional ballet as you might think.  They're all half-starved and crazy with it.

  She may look serene, but that's just because she's already decided to cut you.

She fears Lily's sexual freedom, while at the same time being drawn to it.  Aronofsky uses mirrors to reflect her internal struggle for control and to provide a glimpse into the growing darkness that is waiting to be released.

Visually, it's sharp and striking.  Every single frame is used to set the scene.  The beginning is extremely claustrophobic, the camera following so close on Natalie Portman's heels I'm amazed they didn't have scuff marks.  I can't pinpoint the moment when it begins to pull back but there's still no room to breathe.  Calling the film beautiful is an understatement but I can't think of a word that captures it more.

Resplendent, maybe, like the iridescent reflected sheen of sunlight off the plumage of a particular metaphor.