Written by: Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz, and John McLaughlin. Story by: Andres Heinz.
Release Date: December 3rd, 2010.
Running Time: 108 Minutes.
Budget: $13 Million.
Gross Revenue: $123, 229, 061.
For those out there that happen to have an appreciation for film philosophically, and also happen to be fans of the horror genre, Black Swan is a treat indeed. This is the first intelligent horror film I’ve seen since Antichrist by that eccentric Dane, Lars Von Trier. In fact Black Swan explores similar themes to Antichrist, albeit in a more approachable manner. It’s a film concerned with mental illness that actually gets down and dirty with the sheer horror of the disease of schizophrenia.
Mental illness, in particular, schizophrenia and psychosis, is a truly frightening phenomenon. Too often, movies about it glaze over the scary aspects of psychosis, as if it were a necessary chore they need to get out of the way before they reach a feel good ending that often has no basis in reality. With A Beautiful Mind, Ron Howard and Akiva Goldsman completely sanitise Sylvia Nasar’s autobiography of the brilliant mathematician John Forbes Nash Jr. Russell Crowe’s Nash is an awkward gentle giant figure, but in reality, Nash did a number of strange things that just wouldn’t fit into a Hollywood film. I’m not in the business of gossip, so I shall leave you to investigate these behaviours if you wish. What I’m trying to say is that schizophrenia is not the picnic that sanitised Hollywood films would lead you to believe it is. Plenty of people learn to manage it, but plenty don’t as well. I recall a recurring segment on the Australian radio station Triple J that featured interviews with a young woman who suffered from schizophrenia known only as ‘Mel’ who ultimately ended up committing suicide.
How this relates to Black Swan is in the way in which Aronofsky depicts schizophrenia, which is really quite delightful despite its horror. Natalie Portman’s Nina is a ballerina in the highly competitive New York City Ballet Company, and she has just landed the coveted part of Swan Queen in the Company’s latest version of Swan Lake. The film is expertly crafted by Aronofsky so that we start outside of Nina’s mind and eventually end up becoming so a part of it that we can’t really tell what’s real and what is not. Nina is plagued by disturbing hallucinations and events that really frighten her. Though I’m sure they are probably exaggerated for dramatic effect, I believe that this is a very close portrayal to how it actually might be to suffer from schizophrenia. What’s more is that Aronofsky achieves what no film (that I know of) has done before, finally touching on the complex relationship between consciousness and art.
The world within Nina’s mind might be frightening and outrageous, but it has its own logic. Throughout the movie she strives for perfection, constantly telling the hideous ballet director that she wants to play the Swan Queen perfectly. The role of the Swan Queen, which involves a girl’s transformation into a swan at the hands of an evil sorcerer, and also her eventual suicide, is pure fantasy. However, Nina, perhaps subconsciously, realises that in order to play the Swan Queen perfectly, she must literally become a swan. Since human biology isn’t in the business of true metamorphosis, Nina’s fractured mind takes up the task, convincing her that black feathers are growing out of the cuts that she has on her back, and that her eyes are almost completely red, like a swan. By literally becoming the swan, and by later literally achieving what the Swan Queen does in the finale of Swan Lake, Nina is able to give a perfect performance. This raises all kinds of questions about the relationship between consciousness and art that have only adequately been explored in the writings of Franz Kafka, and the other Modernists.
All literary theory aside, ‘Black Swan’ achieves what it sets out to do well. Aronofsky is one of those great directors that really manages to build psychological tension in his audience. This film, like Requiem for a Dream before it, infiltrates that dark space of your mind where the nightmares live. Portman is great, and she deserves the Oscar if she gets it. There are a lot of really disturbing sequences in this one; the kind that make you wince and then laugh gruesomely before finally thinking ‘That is so fucking cool!’ I don’t think I’ll be forgetting Winonna Ryder’s handiwork with a nail file any time soon, that’s for sure.
Five Stars:
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