Black Swan has all the conventions of a ballet film, the bulemic and overly-disciplined dancer, a fading star, and a worthy challenger. There are scenes of painful torture (Nina breaks the nail on her big toe while practicing, which immediately gushed blood). There are scenes of sweeping artistic beauty (the dance sequences are graceful and convincing). We see Nina, played by Natalie Portman, giving up her physical and emotional well-being for her art, becoming obsessed with perfection, becoming an artistic martyr. All of this is expected of a film centered around a ballet performance; what I did not expect was the film’s intense psychological drama.

Black Swan is filled with doubles, fantasies, dopplegangers, sharp turns, and freudian theory. It’s not quite clear what happens, as far as visceral plot is concerned, but I’m not quite sure that matters. Black Swan, with the help of Natalie Portman, dedicated itself to the psychological effects of a lifestyle based in performance and competition. We see the effects of a dancer obsessed with her art and consumed by her role.

I’m glad to see that Natalie Portman recieves a role worth her talent. She was very good in Closer, and I was charmed by her in Garden State; but in Black Swan, I was entranced by her. Much like director Darren Arronofsky’s previous film, The Wrestler, Black Swan hinges on a star performance and, likewise, the star does not disappoint. She appears on screen, emaciated and fragile, and, just as convincingly, shifts to demonic and possessed. Mila Kunis, of That 70’s Show and Forgetting Sarah Marshall, is very good as Nina’s rival, confidant, and, believe it or not, lover. These actresses will, and should, compete strongly in the Oscar race.

Black Swan is hauntingly beautiful, disturbingly erotic, and ultimately consuming. Last night, I was entranced by the film, and, this morning, I am haunted by it. It’s unforgettably seering and highly entertaining. Propelled by strong central performances and excellent cinematography, Black Swan takes off and never falls.

Rob Gulya- Editor in Chief