Beguiling story-telling

In Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan, it’s a whole new ball game of
drama, both thrilling as well as horrific

SO, to ballet again, those precise body movements, poised hand and leg co-ordination, treading on twinkled toey joy et al. May be, the last time one witnessed such supreme aesthetic satiation was when Anne Bancroft and Shirley MacLaine played two aging ballerinas in the late 1970s masterpiece Turning Point. But there, it was female camaraderie at its earliest in cinema. In Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan, it’s a whole new ball of drama both thrilling as well as horrific as it stirs a wide range of emotions to very nearly purge one of feelings.

That it won Natalie Portman the Best Actress Oscar this year as ballerina Nina Sayers is incidental but she truly shed blood, sweat and tears as she exercised, slimmed and went through a year of preparation for the part. But it is equally a triumph for director Aronofsky to get his whole ensemble of performers in top gear. There’s Nina’s ageing, obsessive mother Erica (Barbara Hershey), the passionate and sublime ballet director Vincent Cassel (Thomas Leroy), the arch rival and likely cause of Nina’s hallucinations Lily (Mila Kunis) and, of course, the ageing Beth (Winona Ryder), whose brief cameo rounds up the ballet scene.

Cassel’s entry is precise. He speaks little but demands much. Yet it could even be termed simplistic in the light of his complex character later on. But the establishing shots are powerful and here cinematographer Matthew Libatique displays flashes of his hand-held camera as he moves into the sublime in the latter half.

This new version of Swan Lake has ballerina Nina play both the white swan as well as her more evil black counterpart and though director Cassel is aware of her talent as the white one, it is the black swan role that calls for innovation — really letting herself go in an alien domain. She has to "touch herself" to get rid of her frigidity. This means she has to grow out of pink and white world of soft toys engineered by her doting, domineering mother and towards sexual sublimation, which she achieves quite credibly.

That it calls for sexual liberation is an understatement but the Censors, true to their prudish selves, have deleted daring masturbation sequences, which are key to establishing Nina’s schizophrenia.

Cassel also has the best lines in a generally impressive script by Mark Heyman and Andres Heinz (who also wrote the story) and his depth in aesthetics comes across strongly when he introduces the new ballerina. "To Beth, to Nina and to Beauty" while ignoring Beth’s tantrums.

In this powerful drama, what really grabs the viewer is the beguiling story-telling. Little is spelt out but much is left to the several interpretations and audiences can read whatever they feel like. It is very nearly amoral and more about passion than perfection. At the end, one cannot but feel an exaggeration of the whole art scene and one may even question the lengths to which realism is taken, but then this is not the first time one notices it.

Natalie Portman is simply sublime and fully deserving of the Best Actress Oscar and she is supported by a galaxy of artistes from the passionate Cassel to the erotic Mila Cunis and the intense Winona Ryder. Finally, yesteryear sex kitten Barbara Hershey of The Baby Maker fame is scarcely recognisable but has lost none of her talent. Go for it.

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