
 I could review The Black Swan with one word:  amazing.  The  film is dark and shifting, conflating dreams and obsessions into a  terrifying reality where nothing is certain.  Natalie Portman stars as  Nina, a ballerina dedicated to achieving perfection whose first starring  role is threatened by a new member of the troupe, the restless and  unrepentant Lily (Mila Kunis).  The only question is—is it Nina’s  obsession, or Lily’s, that shapes the terrible path Nina finds herself  walking?
 There were many thematic layers to Darren Aronofsky’s film, and  unfortunately to discuss them in much detail is to give too much away  about what happens.  And this really is a film that you need to see the  first time in a state of suspense. 
 That being said, Aronofsky captures rather magnificently the depth of  obsession an individual can have for something, and how far it can  drive her.  Subservient thematically to the film, but underlying the  obsessions chronicled so somehow also at the heart of the movie, is the  concept of performance art as fleeting, ephemeral.  By its very nature, a  perfect performance cannot be more than a perfect moment, but that one  perfect moment transcends everything if it is ever achieved.  This idea  makes the climax of the film both more glorious and more haunting.
 Visually the movie is somewhere between The Wrestler and  more traditionally cinematic filming.  There are lots of shots from  behind Nina, looking over her shoulder as she walks through corridors,  into rooms, into empty spaces to show us that this is her world, her  experience.  But there are also wider shots, and the film is peppered  with moments of visual artistry, as well.  There is a continual  interplay of light and dark throughout the film, echoing Nina’s “swan  queen” to Lily’s “black swan”—white spotlights on a black stage, Nina’s  little-girl pink room in contrast to the claustrophobic deep green of  the rest of her mother’s apartment, Nina’s pale coat against the night.   Aronofsky also managed to create a visual analog to a deep  understanding of ballet performance to allow the film audience to  understand Nina’s triumph.  During the last 25 or so explosive minutes,  we see the opening night of the ballet, and as Nina dances the part of  the Black Swan she sprouts feathers from her very skin until she ends  the dance with a full set of wings, visible to the audience in the  theater only in her shadow against the back wall of the stage.  It was  stunning to watch, and it made the brilliance of that performance  intelligible to people who do not have the depth of knowledge (or even  interest) in dance to know if it was just good or utterly breathtaking. 
 Portman delivers a smashbox performance as Nina.  She is fragile,  repressed, determined, and afraid while on the flip side her dark “twin”  comes to the surface as wild, violent, frightening, and consuming.   Nina is a curious mix of relatable and yet not.  On the surface she is  an underdog, and because we are following her story there is an  automatic sympathy for her, yet she is not an easy person to understand  or warm up to.  All the same as you watch her, you find yourself falling  under her spell, understanding why she does these things you would  probably never do, and wanting desperately for her to triumph. 
 Mila Kunis carried the role of “the black swan” perfectly.  She is a  charismatic actress, and that is the entire point of her character—to be  someone people want to watch, someone people are drawn in and seduced  by, even if she is not “perfect” or polished.  Vincent Cassel was the  director and object of Nina’s suppressed desires, Barbara Hershey was  Nina’s perhaps tragic, perhaps obsessive, perhaps wonderful mother, and  Winona Ryder was the erstwhile queen of the troupe whose star has  finally faded.   
 The musical arrangement of the traditional Tchaikovsky pieces was  done by Clint Mansel, probably the best musical scorer working right now  and someone who understands how to create not just mood but rather atmosphere  with his music.  Aronfsky has worked with him several times before to  brilliant effect; at a guess, anyone else’s touch on this score would  have been less effective.
 This is not a movie that will leave you easily once the lights go  up.  I found myself unwilling to read or watch television once I got  home from the screening, preferring rather to prolong the mood the film  had cast and probe at bit harder at my impressions of the characters and  action.  I am still pensive and reflective this morning, and I know  this is exactly how it should be.  The film is a moment of perfection in  the same way the ballet it follows is, and just as rare. 
 The Black Swan will hit theaters in limited release December 3.