On December 31 I closed my moviegoing year with the film that may be the most divisive among reviewers and bloggers released during 2010. Black Swan is Darren Aronofsky's follow-up to The Wrestler, my favorite film of 2008 and reinforces the director's fascination with self-destructive personalities. In his new film Aronofsky brings his preoccupations into the world of ballet, practically daring film buffs to draw comparisons with Powell & Pressburger's Red Shoes. It's probably a mistake to assume that the director was attempting a modern-day Red Shoes and to judge him by that standard. It became clear to me pretty quickly that Aronofsky is not in the least interested in the romance of artistic life and performance that drives the British film. He makes little effort to make ballet beautiful or attractive, instead making everything orbit in subjective confusion around Natalie Portman. Only at the end, when a performance of Swan Lake traces the Portman character's mental breakdown, does he show any ambition to emulate or top the Archers. More often, I was reminded, perhaps appropriately, of American archetypes. Rather than his Red Shoes, Black Swan is arguably Aronofsky's All About Eve, or his 42nd Street ("You're going out there a newcomer, but you've got to come back a mental case!") or, as many, myself included, may be tempted to say, his Showgirls. I offer that last as a value-free statement; let each interpret it by his or her own lights. For some, it may be a recommendation, and if anyone feels that way I see no reason to disabuse them. But it has to be said that Black Swan is a camp classic or else no kind of classic. It's a work of authentic, naive camp; Aronofsky films the script by Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz and John McLaughlin as if unaware -- not indifferent but unaware -- that every character in it is an idiot. The entire story is founded on the notion, propounded by a choreographer (Vincent Cassel) whose intellectual or aesthetic credentials are never questioned, that a ballerina must tap into some sort of dark side in order to dance the role of the Black Swan in the Tchaikovsky ballet. This advice is given to a dancer (Portman) so repressed and infantilized by her mother (Barbara Hershey) that her success to date in the dance world is a mystery. There's a story in the mother-daughter relationship, mom having given up her own career to raise the girl and now feeling both vicarious triumph and jealousy over being surpassed, but the situation seems inadequate to explain the daughter's paranoia, hallucinations and scratching fits. The cut-throat competitive world of ballet contextualizes things a bit more, but Nina Sayers' aria of insanity seems more a matter of innate mental defect than a product of family or career pressure. The character is conceived entirely in reactionary terms and gives no evidence of an inner life. We never get any sense of Nina's own artistic aspirations or sensibilities, or whether she dances for her own pleasure or her mother's. Because Nina is a void, there's no pathos to her accelerating breakdown, nor much rooting interest in the possibility of her escaping it. And for this almost perfectly thankless role Natalie Portman is considered a favorite for the Academy Award. She certainly gives it her all, but Nina is such an overdetermined character that it's difficult to see what Portman could really contribute to the role apart from conviction and dance skills. Hers isn't a true camp-classic performance because it never transcends the material, but is captive to it. It proves, however, if the last three Star Wars films hadn't already, that Portman is a trouper. She balks at no hoop before jumping through it. Ask her to feign masturbation and she'll do it. Require her to make out with Mila Kunis and it's done; it may not even have been burdensome for her. Portman is fully dedicated to your entertainment, and that should count for something. But I've got to think that there have been better female performances in 2010, even if I haven't seen them yet. It's not Portman but Aronofsky who cements the film's camp standing, first with his unironic direction of the soap-opera setup, and then with a final half-hour payoff of visionary delirium that'll redeem the picture for a lot of viewers. It didn't quite redeem it for me -- or hasn't yet in retrospect -- because the buildup to it was so oppressively oppressed, but the film as a whole has clearly struck a chord with many people, if only because so many people see themselves, or imagine the people around them, on the brink of self or mass-destruction. If not the Red Shoes of our time, Black Swan is certainly a fable for it. What that says for our time is another story.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
On the Big Screen: BLACK SWAN (2010)
On December 31 I closed my moviegoing year with the film that may be the most divisive among reviewers and bloggers released during 2010. Black Swan is Darren Aronofsky's follow-up to The Wrestler, my favorite film of 2008 and reinforces the director's fascination with self-destructive personalities. In his new film Aronofsky brings his preoccupations into the world of ballet, practically daring film buffs to draw comparisons with Powell & Pressburger's Red Shoes. It's probably a mistake to assume that the director was attempting a modern-day Red Shoes and to judge him by that standard. It became clear to me pretty quickly that Aronofsky is not in the least interested in the romance of artistic life and performance that drives the British film. He makes little effort to make ballet beautiful or attractive, instead making everything orbit in subjective confusion around Natalie Portman. Only at the end, when a performance of Swan Lake traces the Portman character's mental breakdown, does he show any ambition to emulate or top the Archers. More often, I was reminded, perhaps appropriately, of American archetypes. Rather than his Red Shoes, Black Swan is arguably Aronofsky's All About Eve, or his 42nd Street ("You're going out there a newcomer, but you've got to come back a mental case!") or, as many, myself included, may be tempted to say, his Showgirls. I offer that last as a value-free statement; let each interpret it by his or her own lights. For some, it may be a recommendation, and if anyone feels that way I see no reason to disabuse them. But it has to be said that Black Swan is a camp classic or else no kind of classic. It's a work of authentic, naive camp; Aronofsky films the script by Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz and John McLaughlin as if unaware -- not indifferent but unaware -- that every character in it is an idiot. The entire story is founded on the notion, propounded by a choreographer (Vincent Cassel) whose intellectual or aesthetic credentials are never questioned, that a ballerina must tap into some sort of dark side in order to dance the role of the Black Swan in the Tchaikovsky ballet. This advice is given to a dancer (Portman) so repressed and infantilized by her mother (Barbara Hershey) that her success to date in the dance world is a mystery. There's a story in the mother-daughter relationship, mom having given up her own career to raise the girl and now feeling both vicarious triumph and jealousy over being surpassed, but the situation seems inadequate to explain the daughter's paranoia, hallucinations and scratching fits. The cut-throat competitive world of ballet contextualizes things a bit more, but Nina Sayers' aria of insanity seems more a matter of innate mental defect than a product of family or career pressure. The character is conceived entirely in reactionary terms and gives no evidence of an inner life. We never get any sense of Nina's own artistic aspirations or sensibilities, or whether she dances for her own pleasure or her mother's. Because Nina is a void, there's no pathos to her accelerating breakdown, nor much rooting interest in the possibility of her escaping it. And for this almost perfectly thankless role Natalie Portman is considered a favorite for the Academy Award. She certainly gives it her all, but Nina is such an overdetermined character that it's difficult to see what Portman could really contribute to the role apart from conviction and dance skills. Hers isn't a true camp-classic performance because it never transcends the material, but is captive to it. It proves, however, if the last three Star Wars films hadn't already, that Portman is a trouper. She balks at no hoop before jumping through it. Ask her to feign masturbation and she'll do it. Require her to make out with Mila Kunis and it's done; it may not even have been burdensome for her. Portman is fully dedicated to your entertainment, and that should count for something. But I've got to think that there have been better female performances in 2010, even if I haven't seen them yet. It's not Portman but Aronofsky who cements the film's camp standing, first with his unironic direction of the soap-opera setup, and then with a final half-hour payoff of visionary delirium that'll redeem the picture for a lot of viewers. It didn't quite redeem it for me -- or hasn't yet in retrospect -- because the buildup to it was so oppressively oppressed, but the film as a whole has clearly struck a chord with many people, if only because so many people see themselves, or imagine the people around them, on the brink of self or mass-destruction. If not the Red Shoes of our time, Black Swan is certainly a fable for it. What that says for our time is another story.
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12 comments:
More Black Narcissus than Red Shoes
Agreed! But the analogy in no way implies a qualitative comparison.
Okay, I'm not going to lie...I didn't read your review...I haven't seen the film yet...
But when I DO, I'll be sure to look over your review again!
It's interesting that you say the last ten minutes will redeem the picture for many people. I thought, and I have seen others say the same thing, that the last ten minutes are a mess.
But that aside the movie never worked for me. I thought it was pretty silly, which you seem to acknowledge. I'm not sure why you think it is a camp classic (I think those were the words you used), because there was nothing in it that made me want to see it again. It was painful, something I don't want to go through again.
One thing I completely disagree with you about is Portman. You say she her character is "overdetermined" and that makes it hard to see what she could contribute. She had the difficult task of having to be both vulnerable and insecure while making the transition to a darker, stronger character (yes, too much the ballet). She does this so well that the rest of the movie doesn't match her seriousness. It could have been camp with a less earnest performance. She will probably win an Oscar and I might not completely agree with the choice, but I wouldn't throw my hands up in disgust like when "Slumdog Millionaire" won best picture.
"But it has to be said that Black Swan is a camp classic or else no kind of classic."
I quite agree here Samuel, though the issues that have stayed with me through a second viewing are keeping this on the back burner of artistic realization of any kind. But after reading this wise and astute essay, I can see that you aren't buying into the wild and irresponsible praise that has elevated the film to a number of award nominations from critical fraternities we both respect. As Jason contends in his comment here, Portman is impressive, and I would add that the framing, the rich and evocative compositions and the promise of the opening reels had one thinking a masterpiece might be in the making. The seductive straisn of SWAN LAKE added to a ravishing aesthetic underpinning that ultimately was undermined by a mean-spirited script, metaphorical ambiguities and a final reel that delivers the nail in the coffin. It's often lovely to look at and listen to but unlike Aronofsky's supreme masterpiece, THE FOUNTAIN, it's emotionally vacant.
Nathanael: This is definitely a film for which each person has to make his own judgments, and I'll be interested in seeing your opinion eventually.
Jason: I call it camp, regardless of whether it'll prove a classic, because of Aronofsky's grimly serious presentation of frankly ludicrous material. A camp classic won't necessarily be a film you'll want to see again, but those most likely to see it as such will be those who find the final act the most rewarding.
Sam, I think you're on to something by describing the script as "mean-spirited." I liked this a lot less than The Wrestler and that may be because Black Swan is ultimately less compassionate toward its main character and can't imagine any avenue of escape for her. As for Portman, she certainly doesn't give a bad performance, but her earnestness in a bad role is key to the film's camp-classic potential. She certainly towers over the rest of the cast.
Good heavens I like a movie that gets us all talking. Give the statue for that, if nothing else.
Sam: a fine, incisive essay with which I wholeheartedly agree, though I love the film anyway! I'm troubled by so many comparisons to The Red Shoes (and to other classic films in general), when I think this has a great deal more in common with Ross's The Turning Point than it does The Red Shoes, even if the older film focuses most of its energy on a a young ballerina.
My take on Black Swan colors it more as an very intentional exercise in emotion / voyeurism / cinema-craft than anything else.
Oh, and how about a paragraph break or two?
Great stuff as always!
Mark, I plead ignorance on The Turning Point and on paragraph breaks I plead guilty to getting carried away on a train of thought. Black Swan probably should be judged according to style rather than substance, but I'm not sure if all its admirers would agree on that.
Sam - The Turning Point is available on Netflix Instant Watch at the moment. It's one of those movies that received two dozen Oscar nominations but didn't win any. It's a fairly upbeat film about 'making it' as a NYC ballerina, and stage mothers, and male dancers, etc. It also boasts a fine catfight between Shirley MacLaine and Anne Bancroft.
Well...I saw it.
It was good. I don't think that it was the revolutionary film that people were expecting it to be, though.
It just felt like we were going over ground that we were already familiar with in the psychological horror genre.
That said, Portman's performance was incredible.
Nathanael: Just so. One film I didn't invoke in my review but others have is Polanski's Repulsion, and that comparison only shows that, as you wrote, Black Swan is hardly anything new
Sam, I think your appraisal of the movie is spot-on and mirrors my own feelings on the film.
SHOWGIRLS is the exact movie I compared this to, as well, though I wager the difference in the two is that Verhoeven was fully aware of his film's camp nature, while Aronofsky is unwittingly so.
You sum up the problem with the character of Nina quite well, also -- "Because Nina is a void, there's no pathos to her accelerating breakdown, nor much rooting interest in the possibility of her escaping it." I mentioned it in a comment reply on my site, but it's almost like Aronofsky expected the fact that Portman embodies a certain aura to be enough for us to understand Nina, instead of fleshing her out more in the film.
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