Darren Aronofsky
Il Cigno Nero

And then comes the bang, the inner noise, the emotional shock, and that sense of fulfilled incompleteness that governs the soul in the throes of an ascent triggered by an aesthetic ecstasy of unquestionable quality.

When it is said that art must be able to disturb, to make one reflect, to amaze and create a dimension where even the worst evil, for an aesthetic perversion, becomes intellectual and emotional enjoyment, we are talking about works that, in my opinion, outline a category in which this film fully belongs.

Darren Aronofsky, who had already managed to amaze with works like Pi: The Theorem of Delirium and Requiem for a Dream, returned in 2010 with a film that had been in development for years, and which would mark the victory of the Oscar for Best Actress by Natalie Portman, as well as international recognition of considerable respect, except for a fair number of detractors who will be able to find, in my rather childish opinion, in the film's explicit sexuality and self-harm (not to mention, and here we are at the brink of the ridiculous, the alleged bad light the film casts on the world of ballet) reasons for artistic degradation. And this can make sense if we remain tied to an 18th-century aesthetic canon, but in a world where the entire world of art also uses the unpleasant to forcefully communicate pain or discomfort, why should a film that does the same be criticized instead of praised if well done? Perhaps because then children will not be able to see it? What a pity, because they will miss out on a work worthy of being remembered.

But let's get to the film itself. The plot, to put it very simplistically, narrates the story of Nina, a young ballerina oppressed by an overprotective mother and some relational problems, who is selected to play the part of the white swan AND the black swan in the Tchaikovsky ballet Swan Lake. The interesting thing is that, to help her bring out the black swan within her, her master will put her to the test. It's not just about playing a role in a ballet, but about restoring the balance between light and dark present in each of us. A balance that, in Nina's case, is completely lost due to strict upbringing, shyness, a tendency for perfectionism, and all those characteristics easily stereotypically attributable to a typical elegant and fragile ballerina, both on stage and in life. It seems evident that we are talking about a comparison between the Superego and the Id, Freudian speaking, in a conflict in which the former definitely prevails over the latter. The girl's metamorphosis will take absolutely unpredictable turns, with hallucinatory moments (in the true sense of the word) that are both touching and/or bloody. And I hadn't exclaimed "what am I watching?" so frequently as in the final sequence of this film.

It's useless to hide: this is not a light film. An hour and forty minutes that seem like two and a half, and in the end, it's not like much happens in terms of developments. It's not a "slow" film, but rather a reflective one, often working on the continuous associations between symbols and mysterious events only to launch a series of interpretive keys in the final section. This certainly does not work against the work and says a lot about the emotional impact it can have on the human soul. The beautiful directorial ideas are not lacking: it is not a film that shines for particularly ecstatic glimpses, but it certainly offers some interesting and well-implemented ideas, never for the sake of showing off some presumably original idea in a somewhat random manner within the film. Everything is perfectly measured and realized accordingly. An aspect that, at least initially, may make one raise an eyebrow is that Portman is always tremendously dramatic. Just walking through the city, she seems to have seen a ghost. However, it becomes evident, as we deepen the character of the protagonist, that this is intentional, even if perhaps not measured perfectly, and acts as a fairly good counterpoint to the (few) scenes in which she finds herself in conditions opposite to the "standard" one. The soundtrack draws heavily from the repertoire of the aforementioned composer, without ever being particularly out of place. The screenplay is well set, and everything is understood perfectly (except for intentionally cryptic sections), also giving due weight to every word spoken (some dialogues are very interesting). The main theme is naturally of a psycho-thriller nature, without disliking some digressions on the concepts of social corruption or family oppression. A proper touch of surrealism guarantees a final bang effect and perfectly crowns a film that one cannot understand how much is true, how much is false, how much is metaphorical, and how much is earthly, but in any case manages to amaze.

Perversely sublime!