review time.

To say that I resonated with this film is dangerous: on one hand, it makes me seem crazy.  On the other, it makes me entirely narcissistic and obsessive.  It puts me in a vulnerable position in which I open up about my frustrations and heartache through my imperfections, but I cannot help it.  I have now seen this film four times through in its entirety, and each time I have viewed it, I have been struck by the reality Aronofsky has managed to create amidst the chaos of Nina's own multiple realities.  Do you need to love ballet to love this?  No.  Do you need to love Natalie Portman to love this?  No.  Do you need to love mental illness to love this?  No.  But if Natalie Portman doesn't win a Best Actress Oscar for this performance, then I doubt she ever will, because she found a way to make me fall in love with all three (okay, okay, so I loved her and ballet already...whatever).

The script is bare bones, perfectly so.  The film is certainly grainy, but it sets the atmosphere of indecision, and it is only at the end that we see clear frames.  The original score is Swan Lake on narcotics - it's stunning - and the final fifteen minutes of the film are accompanied by Tchaikovsky's original work.  To say that he captures human sadness and despair is a bit of an understatement.  The original collaboration of the ballet score was done in such a way that every minute, every second was intended to tell the dancing story - this is not a piece of music adapted for a choreographer, but is instead a complete work, and although I have seen Swan Lake on the stage before, there's something about Aronofsky's shaky camera work that elevates Tchaikovsky's orchestration.

Costume design?  Her ugly scarf definitely mirrors her youthful demeanor and her practice clothing is both seductive and pure as she attempts to internally, and externally, come of age.  The makeup?  Perfection.  The dancing itself is insanely believable.  I am extraordinarily critical, particularly when it comes to ballet as portrayed in film, and the work Portman put into honing her ballet skills paid off royally.  It is extremely difficult to see when she ends and her double begins.  On my third viewing, I found one area that bothers me: in the middle of the film, during a rehearsal in which her company director (who is married to Monica Bellucci in "real" life - lucky ducky) belligerently pushes her to dance the same sequence over and over, she is released from a hold and her feet are not extended in the way a professional dancer would extend to the ground.

That's it.

The rest of it?  She has believable feet, believable arms, a neck that was made for ballet, a body perfectly shaped for it (although she is a bit short).  Her dedication to perfecting her lines completes the spell of the film, because her believability as a dancer allows the viewer to lose himself in her psychological struggle.

Mila Kunis seemed a bit blah initially, particularly side-by-side with the haunting Portman, and her dancing isn't nearly as believable, but her raw energy sells it in the end.  Barbara Hershey's teeth frighten me almost as much as her own psychosis.  Winona Ryder should have been grateful for the role, but it must have been hard playing a nearly autobiographical part.  Let's talk about Benjamin Millepied for a second, shall we?  A principal with NYCB, he started as choreographer and then worked his way into the role of David, Nina's partner.  He's now dating Portman, which is understandable because he's kind of a fox.

The technical elements are there, and it's an extraordinary film to watch.  It's also the best film of 2010.

I don't discuss this often, but I carry a lot of regret with me: regret that I didn't continue my ballet training, that I didn't continue my work as a pianist.  There are a lot of things I could have done with my life and around the age of thirteen/fourteen, my family life sort of broke down and everything else went with it.  While I may not know what it's like to starve yourself and throw up everything you eat, I understand the ultimate dedication needed for your passion and for your art.  Was Nina crazy because of her need for perfection?  Was she crazy before that?  Did she have this propensity for mental illness?  Did this role give it to her in that short time period?  I don't know.  I don't think it matters.

Her director, Thomas, told her to lose herself in the role, and she did.  The moment she realizes that she is a psychological nutcase is the most thrilling of the film.  We see in her eyes that she's lost herself and she no longer can comprehend or differentiate reality A, or reality B, or reality C.  She doesn't bother to wipe the tears - she merely continues painting her face white, resolved to finish the piece.  The film begins with her dream of transforming into the swan.  Originally, the swan queen needs a prince and true love to set her free (isn't that always the way), but Nina Sayers, either because of her own psychosis or her own passion, needs perfection to set her free.  While the ending is ambiguous, of one thing I am certain: she was perfect.