Natalie Portman Takes a Dark Turn in Black Swan

It’s Oscar readiness time again. I started off the year having seen just a few likely Oscar contenders from 2010. Over the weekend, I checked one more off my list with Black Swan, the unsettling tale of a hard-working ballerina who undergoes a twisted psychological journey after winning her dream role.

The film, written by Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz and John J. McLaughlin and directed by Darren Aronofsky, stars Natalie Portman as the delicate Nina Sayers. A sweet, naive perfectionist, she is ideal for the part of the White Swan in Swan Lake, but Thomas Leroy (Victor Cassel), the director of her dance troupe, has decided that he wants one girl to embody both the pure-hearted White Swan and the seductive Black Swan who stands between the protagonist and her happiness. Nina displays just enough spunk to convince him that she is capable of pulling it off, but the real challenge begins when the role is hers and she must find some way to move beyond her self-imposed barriers and find the darkness the role requires.

I’ve been hearing a lot of Oscar buzz over Portman’s performance, and it’s well-earned. Along with the incredible challenge of learning ballet for the part, Portman gives a mostly restrained performance that occasionally branches off in unexpected directions. Despite the physical challenges, Nina’s ordeal is mostly psychological as she battles with herself and several significant people in her life.

There are only four other major characters. Winona Ryder is haunting as Beth, the star ballerina who is forced into retirement, serving as a chilling reminder of the ephemeral nature of Nina’s success. Barbara Hershey gives a layered performance as Nina’s mother, whose close relationship with her daughter is not as tranquil as it initially appears. Cassel is superb as the fiery Thomas, who pushes his dancers to great heights but has a reputation for seducing his leading ladies. His methods are both effective and distasteful, and I found my opinion of him oscillating wildly throughout the movie.

Finally, Mila Kunis of That 70s Show brings an enigmatic quality to Lily, the young dancer who joins the troupe after Beth’s departure. She arrives with murky motivations, a symbolically loaded name and an unknown history. The screen sizzles whenever Kunis and Portman share it, whether Lily’s intentions appear helpful or harmful to the overwhelmed Nina.

This is a movie that earns its R rating. The profanity, while not pervasive and rarely used by Portman, is strong, and several scenes contain disturbing imagery. The film is by turns violent and sexually explicit, and its surrealistic quality makes it increasingly difficult to tell what is real and what is a result of Nina’s mangled perceptions as her preparations take their toll.

Black Swan is a dark exploration of the price of perfection – both in Nina’s rigid sense and Thomas’s ideal of “letting go”. Once was enough for me, but its craftsmanship and Portman’s performance are indeed Oscar-worthy.