The Parallel Convergence Zone
Mike and Jeff work together and have discovered a mutual fascination with old television series, B-movies, bizarre personal experiences, brushes with fame and peculiar characters they’ve met along the way. Here, they have undertaken to provide the following tandem media review for your reading pleasure:
BLACK SWAN
By Jeff WilliamsThe impetus to write these two ‘competing’ reviews of Black Swan arose after I had enjoyed the film and recommended it to my fellow reviewer, and was surprised to hear his initial dour take on it and its star, Natalie Portman. So I had to ask myself, “did I really like this movie? Well, did I, PUNK?!“ Or is it a question of it even being possible for a straight man to review this erotic psychological thriller without having his judgment hopelessly clouded by its blindingly attractive lead female cast and scorching girl-on-girl action? Quite frankly; no. No it is not; not for me. Because I am pathetically sad and shallow.
But first, I briefly defer to my esteemed colleague and his flawed view of Black Swan.
ICKY BLACK SWAN
By Mike KowalskiThe contrast between Natalie Portman’s lush beautiful face and that high tinny noise coming through the theatre surround sound system when the lips move on the screen should be the starting point of great comedy. Instead, in Darren Aronofsky’s new mental-illness-thriller Black Swan, it’s the beginning and end of 108 minutes of uncontrollable squirming. Kafka’s Metamorphosis appears to be the inspiration for the script about a self punishing anorexic dancer who turns herself into the title bird. There’s unintended humor everywhere in this movie as Portman is called upon to deliver lines resonant with drama and out squeaks that little girl voice. In a climactic scene while dancing the Swan Queen in Swan Lake the disturbed self destructive ballerina crashes to floor; back stage she whines “it wasn’t my fault — he DROPPED me.” You want to like Portman more than you do, and the suspense in the movie comes from worrying that she’s going to look worse than you’re afraid she is. This black swan really goes down, but somehow the press is swarming to Portman’s performance. Now that’s a metamorphosis.
Some life is pumped into Black Swan when Mila Kunis, who’s vibrant and alive and funny, arrives at the dance studio, and in a couple scenes Winona Ryder as a fading ballerina jolts the screen with electricity. There’s a high camp moment when the Ryder character slumped over in a wheel chair awakes and confronts frightened swan Portman. Ryder brandishes a nail file with gusto before stabbing herself in the face and throat. That’s probably the high point of the movie. It doesn’t give anything away to say the movie’s most gruesome scene is when Portman rips out a hang nail. This movie is a beautiful girl self destruction orgy. The dying swan utters her last line “I just wanted to be perfect” and you have to wonder if death comes too soon or 45 minutes too late. I watched Black Swan with a young female friend, and when I told her Natalie Portman was not a convincing actress she seemed offended by the criticism. I’m not sure exactly what she was responding to in Portman’s performance, but I can never understand why people react to Meryl Streep either. Perhaps they’re responding to the earnest hard work instead of the acting. Watching Black Swan all you can think about is how thin Portman is and wonder if she’s really standing on her toes. Just as in a Streep movie where you focus in on the accent or the flawless impersonation or some other feat or bit. There’s little suspense in Black Swan, just a fairly consistent level of dread. Black Swan lurches from one act of self mutilation to the next, and watching these actresses act out every variation of deranged crazy movie ladies you begin wondering new dreadful thoughts. If this is the movie that everyone at work is talking about and you felt you had to see, is the next movie you shell out $11 for going to be just as bad?
(Enough from Mike, let’s get back to me, Jeff…)
Since I am also a professional…of something or other…, so I have utilized a mental substitution device to attempt to consider this film fairly, and have, for the purposes of this review only, replaced Ms. Portman with… my sister (JUST for the psychological bits and considerations, mind you!). Nevertheless; EEEEEW! But, this is not such a stretch as my sister was in fact an accomplished ballet dancer who spent nearly two
decades of her life, well into her college years, pouring her efforts into this art and intense craft, including participating in a semester program with the New York City Ballet (before a major shift in life gears and eventually obtaining a PhD. in Anthropology).
The core of Portman’s character ‘Nina’ in Black Swan is her intense desire for perfection and to meet both her own unreasonable expectations of herself, as well as those of her mother (played with wonderfully self-effacing and probably, to her chagrin, career-redefining abandon by Barbara Hershey) and the ballet company’s caddish, demanding Director (Vincent Cassel in another perfectly-played supporting role, convincingly walking a fine line between manipulative lecher and motivational genius). Both my fellow reviewer’s comments and a critical review in a major New York City paper (that’s name rhymes with ‘rhymes’) of Portman’s character and performance opined that she gives a one-note rendition of a character who, to paraphrase the paper, ‘starts out crazy and has no where to go.’ To some extent I can agree, at least with the latter. However, this seems more a function of scripting where the film first picks up with Portman’s character’s position in the company; already the selected one of two heirs apparent to the outgoing prima ballerina (played with a scenery-chewing, latter-career-Elizabeth Taylor-esque – think “White Diamonds” perfume ads – cynical energy by Winona Ryder). And THIS is where my sister-substitution/personal-experience view comes in: at this point in the professional (and sadly, maybe even at the amateur, “Waiting For Guffman”-community theater level) ballet company, it’s too late – the few ’Chosen Ones’ ARE all crazy by this time, and, in fact HAVE no where to go – but just a little crazier. Haven’t we all known this person before? The friend who suffered migraines if they got a B grade? A competitor who probably beat your pants off in tennis and still wasn’t satisfied the score spread wasn‘t greater? Or a ballet-dancing sister who struggles for a decade, driving her body through the pain of toe-shoe gnarled feet and shin splints and endless hours of devoted practice, only to realize she’s over the hill…at 19? What’s not crazy-inducing about THAT?
And this is probably true in virtually all such inter-competitive group endeavors, starting from the first grade school playground kickball team picks up and through the N.F.L., N.B.A., AND the NYBT. To be in the Big Show chorus or on the First String of the A-Squad – but still average among The Accomplished – is still difficult and challenging, yet there is always the opportunity to hide among the reeds; to avoid the brutality of the tracking spotlight. But to be chosen, to rise to the very top, above ALL the rest would be an excruciating pressure; in ballet it might be more so as it requires the combination of great physical ability and artistic expression. It was here that I felt Natalie Portman hit the mark; her performance rang true to me – of girls/young women already accomplished as athletes and dancers (practitioners – White Swans) striving to reach the next level to become artists – Black Swans. Portman’s Nina struggles from stunted little-girl, withdrawn in her Mother’s doll-house world and guilt-dripping control, to her almost convulsive lunges into her sexually-charged relationships with the company Director and her competitor/nemesis/fantasy lover Lily (played with magnetic, saucy ferociousness by Mila Kunis*), Portman’s performance vibrated with the high-pitched intensity of a light bulb’s filament in the seconds before it gives its final burst of brilliance as it burns out.
As I consider Ms. Portman’s performance vis-à-vis the movie as a whole, I would have to give her further credit for in fact underplaying what is, in fact an extremely campy outing, which – though unquestionably far superior – has much in common with such classics as “Showgirls” or “Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls.” Portman, and the rest of the fine cast, manage to reign Black Swan’s screenplay into the realm of believability: the simple story of what happens when we drive ourselves – or allow others to drive us – too far and too hard.
J.W.
*Reviewer’s Note: to even begin to fairly consider the scene-stealing nature of Ms. Kunis’ performance in light of her Magnesium-flaming hotness, I would have to replace her in my mind with Mrs. Genevieve Nelson, my Grade School Principle; 70 years old, grey-haired, pointy-rimmed glasses with chain around the neck, with ramrod-straight posture, demeanor and morals. Eeeew, eeeew, and eeeeew. But, fortunately for my psyche, that will be for another review.
Also at EastPortlandBlog.com – True Grit, An Epic Father-Daughter Story, by Jeff Williams – Gloomy Night at the Coen’s, by Mike Kowalski
