Time and time again Darren Aronofsky succeeds in producing films that I can’t watch twice. Try as I might, I just cannot rustle up the will to re-watch any of his movies. Pi bored me almost to tears, Hugh “wolverine forever” Jackman ruined The Fountain, and Requiem for a Dream, despite all of its brilliance, left me with such psychological scars that I cringe just passing it on the shelf at the movie store. Aronofsky’s latest film, Black Swan, continues the trend, though this time its ideological bias is what ultimately renders it best left as a one-time experience.
Which is too bad, because as a movie, it is really well done. I’m a sucker for films featuring mental illness and this one not only capture that angle well, but soared as high as I think Aronofsky’s vision for it would allow. The levels of psychology explored in the mind of the main character, Nina (Natalie Portman) are intriguing without being overblowingly psychotic. On the surface, the storyline is an obvious tragedy: a young woman goes insane while trying to prepare herself for (and ultimately achieving) the so-called “perfect” performance of her career. A technically gifted ballerina, she is given a role where she must embody two characters: the technically perfect and reserved White Swan, and the mysterious, dark, sensual, passionate Black Swan; a literal Jekyll and Hyde of the ballet world.
All this time, her understudy, a girl named Lily, is a “free spirit” who, while lacking technical discipline, embodies the black swan almost perfectly. Nina must then fight not only her own lack of confidence in forgetting all that she has trained for up until this moment (in order to capture the spirit of the black swan), but also the lingering feeling that she may soon be replaced. The key that allows her to finally harmonize that black/white dichotomy in her final performance is an endorphin high brought about by a self-inflicted stab wound to the abdomen - a true Phyrric victory if there ever was one.
Underneath this tragedy, however, feminist themes run strong. The movie draws out scenes that emphasize the degrees to which Nina must go to be perfect: grapefruit-and-egg-white diets (followed by bingeing), weight-watching, a mother who constantly fusses, daily stretching and exercises, early nights filled with restless sleep, and long make-up application sessions. She is a doll in a dollhouse, marched from room to room, from home to rehearsal to stage to back home. "This is not freedom," the film seems to scream, "This is not normal!" The message is conveyed primarily in the scenes in which Nina hallucinates: a hang-nail removal having drastic consequences, a toenail cracking to uselessness, webbed feet, legs bending at odd angles. Her body is falling apart right before her eyes despite all of her attempts at control. Again the message here is clear: This is not worth it and everything will probably not be ok.
If Nina’s control won’t get her to the top, then what will? The answer seeps into nearly every sceme - her sexuality. Black Swan is rife with nods to the third wave of feminism, the lie that full knowledge and experience of feminine sexuality is not only the swiss-army knife of the modern woman, but even that it is the key to ultimate self-realization. While the viewer is told that Nina has has some sexual experiences in the past, for the most part she comes off rather priggish, naive, and sexually self-repressed. Her creepy ballet troupe director believes that breaking that repression will ultimately allow her to embody the sensual black swan, and takes it upon himself to facilitate the transition. He forces himself on her twice, once with a kiss to find out if she is good for the part (she bites him, somehow proving that she is), and another time gropes her and calls it “seduction.” (“See how easy it was for me to seduce you? Now I need you to be able to do that on queue!,” is the “life lesson” there.) I was at once horrified and impressed with the brazen misuse of such a loaded feminine term.
Perhaps most controversial about the movie is that he assigns Nina the “homework” of going home and touching herself, as if “self-discovery” and orgasm apart from relationship is a integral component of well-rounded femininity. To turn some feminist lingo on itself for a moment, it almost seems that the goal is for Nina, as an “animus”, to be a sort of “celibate priest incarnating God as she plays the role of a creator” of the rest of her self. Yet as she writhes on her bed in private, on the screen she remains no more than an object of scopic consumption. There is no power there - only weakness. This preoccupation with her myopic sexual release culminates in a lesbian sex hallucination completely devoid of intimacy. Not only is the act itself over far to soon for any meaningful climax to have been achieved (contributing to the pornographic and therefore exploitive nature of the scene), but its ultimate result is that Nina, thanks to vendrous mental delusions, stole her sense of sexual liberation from her understudy (her fantastical partner) instead of searching it out on her own. But hey, whatever helps fulfill her dream role, right? Don’t let consistency get in the way.
Despite criticisms some leniency may be required - this is, after all, a story about mental illness brought upon by eating disorders and a high-stress lifestyle in a fragile girl. But wait, no. The options that those in authority give Nina as ways to achieve her ultimate goal are ludicrous. Barbie-doll physique? Manipulative authority figures? Selfish sexual empowerment? This kind of ideology is ultimately what makes Black Swan difficult, if not impossible, to watch twice. Even if Nina hadn’t been mentally ill, the pathways that lead to her success are ultimately vapid and devoid of any true character development. That doesn’t make for a rewarding viewing experience. I don’t want to be entertained by being lied to. It’s sad, because the movie was so well done, but this is yet another Aronofsky film that will become but a memory of my twenties.
8 comments:
"this is, after all, a story about mental illness "
-It's interesting that I saw the movie very differently. I saw no mental illness there at all. The main character goes through a creative process that does, indeed, sometimes make one lose touch with reality.
What we have to remember, though, is that many of the things she experiences only exist in her mind. Who's to say that she didn't fantasize the scenes where the director forces himself on her? Who's to say that the shard of glass in her belly is real?
For me, the movie is about a person interacting with her art. All the other characters don't really exist. They are just her mental images of a director, a mother, a rival whom she creates to aide her in her creation.
Of course, the movie is murdered by the extremely talentless Natalie Portman. Otherwise, it could have been pretty good.
I'm curious that you say that, because I thought Aronofsky, stylistically, made it very obvious which scenes were hallucinations and which ones weren't. Even in the ending scenes, like where she removes the towel from in front of the door, the revelation that she was previously hallucinating is made very plain.
Aronofsky has a consistent theme that he always always always likes to work with.
That theme is people giving up their souls for various pursuits: drugs in Requiem, unraveling the mysteries of the universe in Pi, eternal life in The Fountain, and professional success in Black Swan.
The only ideology I see Aronofsky push, ever, is a zen sort of thing. Chill out. Don't give up your soul. Know your limits. Be at peace. Something to that effect.
Putting aside my own views on repressed female sexuality, which do happen to differ from yours: I didn't at all see this film as trying to say anything at all about repressed female sexuality. All of the authority figures in Nina's life were full of shit; they were all pushing her in essentially the same direction (toward her demise), but with varying ideas on how she was to get there. That much was clear.
Ultimately Nina's undoing had little to do with her sexual issues. Aronofsky is also great at letting the viewers make up their own minds about tangential themes like this one. It's an idea that's presented throughout the film with ambiguous connotations. On the one hand, we have Lily, who as Nina's foil is obviously very sexually unrepressed and comfortable, and also seems to have a much more healthy balance between her career as a ballerina and her life otherwise. On the other, we have Tomas, who is a pretty creepy dude who appears to have very unhealthy relationships with his students, pushing her toward sexual discovery and expression in a manner that pretty much any feminist I can think of would take issue with.
Try as I might, I cannot find a feminist agenda in this movie. If anything, I see the opposite. Portman's character doesn't tap into her repressed sexuality and find freedom; she goes insane. Ultimately, it's not about sexuality, but about Aronofsky's constant theme of losing onself to an unworthy cause.
"Ultimately, it's not about sexuality, but about Aronofsky's constant theme of losing oneself to an unworthy cause."
I absolutely agree with this. What makes BS different from other Aronofsky films, though, is that the lead character is content with her loss. She receives what she set out to achieve.
"Ultimately Nina's undoing had little to do with her sexual issues. Aronofsky is also great at letting the viewers make up their own minds about tangential themes like this one. It's an idea that's presented throughout the film with ambiguous connotations."
Perhaps, but, "ultimately," you're saying that Aronofsky puts nothing in the movie that would support any position on repressed sexuality, yours included. We just make up our minds on what we think the movie means - there is no "creator's agenda," as it were.
Sorry, but I don't believe that. Aronofsky isn't creating a movie to say nothing - he chose the scenes and dialogue he did for a reason. I'm saying what I think the reason is. You're saying that since there is no reason, your "interpretation" of the absence of said reason is valid. You can't have it both ways.
"The only ideology I see Aronofsky push, ever, is a zen sort of thing. Chill out. Don't give up your soul. Know your limits. Be at peace. Something to that effect."
The only character portrayed in what could be called a "positive light" is Nina, and she is anything but chilled out. Her disposition and her behavior contribute directly to what kind of dancer she is. She isn't just "going with the flow."
You make an interesting point when you cite Nina as the only Aronofsky hero(ine) content with the way things turn out. I don't know if I'd 100% agree with you, because I think it's a contestable stance--I'm not sure whether, at the end of it all, Nina was completely content with the way things turned out. But one could easily view the film that way, and doing so would lend a bit of credence to your otherwise farfetched theory; however, I still don't think that alone is enough to turn Black Swan into a film pushing any feminist agenda.
To clarify, I never said Aronofsky didn't have an agenda. I said that you were wrong about his agenda. Please, for the sake of you and I and everyone who may ever read this, don't try to turn this into one of those "But relativism is relative too lol" things.
I disagree entirely that Nina was portrayed in any positive light. I think she was the most innocent. I also think that, if anyone, Lily was portrayed in the most positive of lights. But...Aronofsky's not as much into positive-light portrayals as he is into illuminating every hidden corner of the human psyche--unpleasant as those corners may be.
"The only character portrayed in what could be called a "positive light" is LILY, and she is anything but chilled out. Her disposition and her behavior contribute directly to what kind of dancer she is. She isn't just "going with the flow."
Fixed that for me. Sorry. Hopefully that makes the point a little more cogent.
"But...Aronofsky's not as much into positive-light portrayals as he is into illuminating every hidden corner of the human psyche--unpleasant as those corners may be."
I think this is mostly correct. The only twist I would put on it is that Nina's psyche is pushing her towards fulfilling her goal and thus her "hidden corners" are not unpleasant to her. Her body is falling apart, which pushes her to try harder. Her understudy is out to get her, which pushes her to try harder (and dispose of her). Her lesbian sex dreams "unlock" abilities and levels of confidence that she never knew she had. This all leads to her dream of being a great ballerina fulfilled, so she still wins out in the end. So yes, there is much light shed on the development of her character, but it is only unpleasant for those who do not share her goals.
Ah. You don't think Lily was chilled out? I thought the whole point was that she was chilled out. Tomas comments that her technique isn't perfect, but that doesn't matter because of her passion. She admonishes Nina to "lighten up" and "let go"; I certainly got the impression that Lily was the only character who was in any way content or who in any way had her head on straight, and this was all precisely because she WAS chilled out, so to speak. She went with the flow.
I suppose we'll have to agree to disagree. Throughout the whole movie, Nina seems convinced that successfully dancing the roles of the white and black swan will fulfill her, and nothing at all can deter her from this belief. At the end of it all, she seems as shocked and frightened as ever as she realizes how crazy she has gone; although, I'll give you that shortly before the screen cuts to black we see a brief flash of contentment cross her face as she collapses. That could be interpreted as an ultimate sort of contentment, but personally I saw it as just another of Nina's increasingly fleeting and unbalanced states of mind. Again, the impression that came through most strongly to me was that whatever Nina may have gained was in no way worth the loss of her sanity/soul. I think she did gain some measure of happiness at having danced so perfectly, but I don't think that in any overarching sense she gained any contentment or peace, and further, I don't think anyone is meant to walk away from the film with that in mind. That's just me, though.
Great! you've got an interesting point of view.=D
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