Amidst all the trappings of a psychological thriller, this movie is really a coming-of-age for Nina, a girl who’s trying at last to break free from the people and structures that work to control her.
Can something be considered a classic after just 15 years? In the case of Black Swan, I’d argue that the answer is a resounding yes. After opening the 67th Venice Film Festival, Black Swan became one of the most anticipated films of 2010, and critical acclaim carried it all the way to the Oscars, where it received 5 nominations. But beyond the awards and placements on “best-of” lists, Black Swan has firmly cemented itself into our wider cultural imagination.
Whether you’ve seen the film many times or just know it from the memes (Nina frantically wiping that message off the mirror, I’m looking at you), you’re probably familiar with the plot. And the plot itself (at least a large part of it) certainly contributes to the sense of timelessness that this film evokes: using the classic narrative of Swan Lake, the film taps into a fairytale that’s enchanted audiences for over 100 years. In Black Swan, we follow Nina (Natalie Portman), a young dancer in the New York City Ballet, who plans to open its season with Swan Lake. Naturally, every dancer wants to play the star role of Odile/Odette, but having to embody both the White and Black Swan is no easy task. As the film goes on and Nina is eventually selected for the part (“He picked me, mommy!” is one of many great moments), the tone begins to shift. Coming on top of the already-horrifying ballet world, elements of unreality (or are they?) start to enter Nina’s life. This is where things really kick into high gear; every moment feels supercharged with anxiety as Nina and the audience are propelled towards what must be the opening performance of her life.
Though Nina’s clear mental unraveling might lead some to think of her as just another “crazy girl”, it’s her inner life that so many people (young women, in particular) have connected to over the years. When I first watched Black Swan in my teens, I certainly felt the sheer power of the filmmaking choices, but I really found a connection to the film through Nina. The way that her passions, fears, and obsessions manifest through the film (often through hallucinations or other intrusive visions) is so visceral, and her struggle to figure out who she is both in and outside of the ballet world is somehow so relatable. Amidst all the trappings of a psychological thriller, this movie is really a coming-of-age for Nina, a girl who’s trying at last to break free from the people and structures that work to control her. Even the intense, often-hostile relationship between Nina and Lily (Mila Kunis) represents Nina’s burgeoning sexuality; after 15 years, I hope that audiences are treating this narrative less like a confirmation of Nina’s declining sanity and more as her desperate attempt at a life which her surroundings have made seem impossible.
Black Swan comes from a tradition of films that deal with this intersection of horror, obsessive personality, and perfectionism: The Red Shoes (1948) and Perfect Blue (1997) are the two most obvious predecessors, and for good reason. But Black Swan has certainly continued to inspire films of this kind in the years since, proving that no matter if a year or 15 have gone by, we can’t get enough of this masterfully-told story.
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