Black Swan

Black Swan (Darren Aronofsky, US, 2010)

Following on from the surprise of The Wrestler where he reinvigorated the career of Mickey Rourke (and somewhat saved his own after the disappointment of The Fountain), Darren Aronofsky returns with another film that goes behind the velvet curtain and features a powerhouse leading performance. This film is led by Natalie Portman, who deservedly won the Oscar for Best Leading Actress at this year's ceremony, as Nina a perfectionist ballerina, whom is unexpectedly promoted to the position of lead dancer following the suicide attempt of the previous holder, played with evil malevolence by Winona Ryder.

Talented but worried by the onset of age as her chance may have passed, Nina is greeted by alpha male director Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel) as the person to play the dual role of Odette/Odile, the White Swan and the alter-ego, Black Swan in Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. Upon granting her the role of a lifetime, Leroy is himself perplexed by Nina's apparent angel quality for the white swan, but fears she does not have the underlying sexual energy for the black swan. This is both Nina's and the film's dilemma.

The introduction of new chorus girl, Lily (Mila Kunis) who has a fluidity and sexuality all too readily available in contrast to Nina's timidity means Nina is in constant battle with Lily; initial friendship leads to intimacy leads to regrettable bitterness. Nina also has a strict parent in the form of mother Erica (Barbara Hershey) who still treats Nina as a pre-teen girl scared of her growing up and not being able to enjoy her success with her.

Aronofsky from the outset employs his hand-held camera as his eye on this world, immediately positioning itself upon Portman's shoulder as she enters a stage to dance. It is as if we are prying upon a private world. However, this has always been a m.o. of Aronofsky, showing us worlds we rarely see and perhaps reluctant to see; from the wrestlers taping up before a show and licking their wounds afterwards to the down and out routine of the junkies in Requiem for a Dream. The director chooses to be in the face of the character, using scenes we would not see normally in a ballet/dance film - did you know ballerinas get massaged just as much as wrestlers.

Black Swan combines part of thriller elements with body horror and a psychological study of a paranoid young woman experiencing hallucinations, not hiding the fact that this should be considered a 'woman's picture'. The use of doubles and mirrors are used predominantly - such as when Nina walks along a subway and her face is transposed onto the face of the oncoming person, she looks at herself and freezes. The mirror and constant looking at herself, when scratching a rash leads to many, only enhances her hallucinations. Ironically, her major act of violence is committed using a shard of glass.

Aronofsky does not pander to the audience forcing us to make quick judgments, even providing a double cross after the final act of violence allowing the end result to become more poignant. The tale of Nina's constant struggle for perfection is driven by her character alone, she has people around her who wish to push her off course, but it is her intrinsic being to be perfect that heightens these delusions and ultimately to her eventual downfall.

The end is similar to the ending of The Wrestler when Mickey Rourke dove off the top turnbuckle but we did not see the landing, on this occasion we see Nina land but the landing was just as uncomfortable.
At times a difficult watch due to the body horror coupled with genuine scares and moments of terror, the film is steadied by a stellar performance by Portman who is ably assisted by Kunis, who shows a different side to her talent playing misunderstood and sexual, instead of the girl next door she is frequently cast in. Aronofsky again shepherds his actors to career performances whilst indelibly leaving his fingerprint upon proceedings.

Untouchable memories

The last few weeks Ive watched two films that I thought i knew pretty well and my assumptions of them were set in stone..but it is odd that in the weird world of your mind how things can change due to the sands of time (and i dont mean that CGI sand in 'Prince of Persia')

The films in question are THE UNTOUCHABLES (Brian de Palma, US, 1987) and CASINO (Martin Scorsese, US, 1995) - two familiar and popular films from two directors who are esteemed in their fields.

The Untouchables I watched when I was much younger, one of those films you felt naughty watching because it had that 18 certificate and you were like 12 years old staying up late..but like most memories of my film my chronological grip of the film was all over the place.  I do not remember Charles Martin Smith gettting killed off first in the lift and thought the Canadian border shootout occured nearer the end which led to the Battleship Potemkin ripoff. 
The film was on Film4 and it was gripping; I was watching it with my girlfriend who I felt would not like it that much but she loved it. Picking out actors like Connery and Costner (before he ruined Robin Hood) and loving the action and gruesomeness of DeNiro's attack on his colleague with a baseball bat.
The film has much substance in equal to its style which you expect from De Palma, but there was things I just did not expect. Like Ness (Costner, never being better) throwing a criminal off the roof and therefore ruining his chances of conviction; the glory of Connery's death (gift wrapping an Oscar for himself) but it is also thanks to David Mamet's script - economical, clever (using fact as entertainment, 'Oh, I'm an accountant') and funny on occasions.  And De Palma has fun with audience expectations, when Ness rushes into his daughter's bedroom and sees her not there, your heart is in your mouth and then the camera pans to the right and there she is at her dollhouse - simplicity and brilliantly effective.

Casino, when I first saw it was an equal of Goodfellas, now having watched it again I found it to be incredibly flawed and a film that runs out of legs by the film's end. Whereas Goodfellas did not seek to make martyrs of those hoodlums, and actually did not make you think everyone would die; in Casino, you know everyone is doomed. Maybe it is the opening sequence and seeing DeNiro blow up in that car - the sheer fatalism of it is forebearing.
DeNiro is great as Ace - all style and plenty of layers, but Pesci is like a clown, bursting on to screen beating up anyone that moves or looks at him funny. I felt sorry for Ace on occasion, he wants to do everything legitamately before the carpet gets pulled from under him; whilst his 'friends' intend on ruining him.  And Sharon Stone's performance was Oscar-baiting before Witherspoon, Paltrow, Swank even thought of it.  A whore who attempts to grow a heart of gold, or a wolf in sheep's clothing bought for her by Ace, but Ace must know you got to have a heart first.  I felt somewhat disappointed once Pesci came out to Vegas, before that when Ace explains everything you see Scorsese having fun with the Vegas milieu, eyes in the sky, cheats at the tables and the violence is fun such as when they catch the guy with the wire on his leg.  But then Pesci beats up Irish hoodlums and its gets silly.  And when there are a lot of holes in the desert, you know someone will end up there.

Memories can cloud your judgment of films, something you thought run-of-the-mill might be better than you thought, and something you thought brilliant might be run-of-the mill.