Black Swan: A Review

While searching for a word that best encapsulates Darren Aronofsky's psychological ballet horror Black Swan, I kept returning to the word bold. The concept, the art direction, the actors’ performances and camera-work are all realised with incredible confidence. The film could easily have descended into self-indulgence, and the difficult themes could have been muddied, but that is not the case. It’s a stark, striking departure from Aronofsky’s 2008 film The Wrestler, which was anchored firmly in the real; Randy Robinson suffered from recognisable, ordinary internal conflicts. Told through the lens of the original Swan Lake, Black Swan, in contrast, is a study in heightened sensory perception.

Black Swan is, co-incidentally, like last week’s 127 Hours in that it hinges on the psychological deterioration of the respective films’ protagonists. The comparisons are worth making: while 127 Hours makes it clear that Ralston’s hallucinations are in fact hallucinations, in Black Swan the boundary is not so much blurred, but invisible altogether. It is rarely clear what is real or whether characters are who they appear to be. It will likely spark the most divisive discussion, but as a means of demonstrating Nina’s (Natalie Portman) clash with her ‘black swan’ alter-ego it is effective. Nina struggles with the confidence and sexuality of her peers, especially troupe director Thomas and rival Lily, and to engage her passionate side. In one instance Thomas rhetorically asks of the frigid Nina’s dance partner (in what may be the in-joke of the year: Benjamin Millepied dumped his fiancé for Natalie Portman herself, who is now pregnant ) ‘Do you want to fuck her?’ Nina’s fragmenting psychology is also expressed through deeply thought-out set design, particularly though the use of mirrors. The mirrors are absolutely everywhere, to the extent that we see Nina from multiple angles with extreme frequency. As a technique it’s none too subtle; their ubiquity permeates the entire film and it’s one of the few flaws to be found. Mirrors are often used to show a character’s divided personality, but it becomes too obvious, and once Nina’s reflections move separately from herself it becomes a metaphor too far.

The dance sequences are extraordinarily involving. Whether you have an interest in ballet or not – I certainly don’t (didn’t? It’s a persuasive case) – is irrelevant, such is the elegance and synchronicity of the movement of actors and cameraman. Make no mistake: the camera-work in these sequences is as highly choreographed and essential as the dancers themselves. Perhaps it is something of an illusion, but the agility and accuracy of the camera is astounding, but it is no mere gimmick.

Another of Black Swan’s strong points is the emotional response it successfully elicits from the audience. It’s touching, disturbing, tragic and most surprisingly, scary. Perhaps the most interesting character of all is Nina’s mother (Barbara Hershey). Our perception of her is the most malleable; while she initially appears relentlessly controlling gradually we can see that our view of her has been distorted by Nina’s mental breakdown, and our sympathies are deliberately left unclear.

It is unsatisfactory to write a review that – bar one instance – wholly praises the film: the feeling that something must have been overlooked is hard to shake, but films can be as near immaculate as can be expected, and the much-vaunted 10/10 should not be unattainable, and this reviewer feels that Black Swan is a rare film that is worthy of the honour. It’s a real heart-stopper, and considering the advancing years of the audience present at the showing, I’m surprised the emergency services were not called into action. Those pacemakers must have been given a torrid time.

Dead Set: Worth a Re-Watch

Originally broadcast in the Autumn of 2008, Charlie Brooker's brilliant zom-com has been made available of 4oD, and it's as brilliant now as it was upon first showing. As a television drama, it works: initially broadcast over five consecutive week days it is neither too long nor too short; it is a fantastic concept and there are enough brutal set-pieces and comedic moments to ensure slick progression. From a horror perspective it also works: the Big Brother setting, perhaps not coincidentally, is the perfect for a zombie apocalypse drama: it allows for a acute critique of the Big Brother culture, and the real-world locale and astutely observed housemates puts it on the right side of believable. Credit must go to Channel 4 for commissioning a series that skewers their (at the time) biggest show.

The first episode alone contains many memorable moments. The ex-housemates' reactions of glee at seeing the oncoming rush of the undead hordes, and their subsequent cannibalisation, is a wonderful touch. Indeed the entire initial onslaught is cheekily shot to the sarcastically joyous strains of Mika's "Love Today". Special mention must also go to Davina McCall, who makes a great zombie. It may well be the television highlight of 2008, and I'm probably not alone in preferring her as a member of the living dead. Again, credit where credit's due, it takes some level of self-depreciation to cast yourself as a rabid blood-sucker.

Dead Set must surely also be the goriest television series of all time; certainly only The Walking Dead (which I'm unfortunately yet to see) and Spartacus: Blood and Sand, come close in recent years. There are a few spectacularly grisly death, with one of the last sticking in my mind: it's horrific. In fact, Dead Set deserves praise for aiming to balance gore and laughs with scares. Its closest cousin, Shaun of the Dead is gory fun, but it's not exactly nerve jangling. In contrast, Dead Set broods ominously, the washed out palate, lack of human life and the essentially futile position of the cast creates a real sense of menace. The nationwide-catastrophe and doom is heightened by the complete self-absorption of the characters.  

Other than Screenwipe and similar shows, Charlie Brooker doesn't have a huge number of writing credits for television series, but you wouldn't have known it, such is the assuredness of characterisation and plot. Satirising Big Brother is what Brooker was born to do; it fits his abrasive, simile-heavy humour perfectly. All the lead characters are great, but he clearly had most fun writing the bastards, with program-director Patrick and philosophical arse-wipe Joplin given the best lines.

To go much further would be to ruin the plot, so I'll keep it short. Dead Set is just utterly unique in its conception and execution. The setting is what makes the show; the natural defence, the freedom to write ridiculous characters, and the basis as a national touchstone and all the cultural comment that extends forthwith. It's great: watch it.

127 Hours: Review

127 Hours is a film about a man, stuck with one arm crushed under a rock, with only himself and a camera for company. On top of that, the audience knows the outcome; in short, it's something of an ambitious project. That said, if there's any director working today with the innovation and adaptability to pull it off, it's Danny Boyle. Never one to rest on his laurels, Boyle's output has genre-hopped immensely, with only his two first films, Shallow Grave and Trainspotting sharing any common ground; certainly the Utah desert is literally and figuratively a far-cry from the grimy Glaswegian suburbs in which Boyle made his name.

How then, to generate suspense in a film with a widely publicised outcome, namely self-amputation? By highly publicising said self-amputation of course, highlighting the grim detail of the severance. I recall Graham Norton asking of Boyle: 'Couldn't you have done it with a wide-angle?' We know it's coming, but we dread it, slowly cranking up the tension as the days grind past. It worked wonderfully, and I found myself urging him to stop chipping away at the rock with his ever-blunting knife.

A film so entirely focused on one man needs a great performance from a great actor, and James Franco almost fits that role sublimely. I say almost, because despite his instantly believable persona as a rugged canyoneerer and excellent depiction of his psychological difficulties, physically his performance isn't quite right. Now, clearly I have no concept of what it would be like to be stuck with a crushed arm for five-and-a-half days, but he just doesn't seem to be in that much pain, nor does he appear to weaken overly. Despite presumably monumental de-hydration and starvation, not to mention the missing appendage, he seems oddly okay at the end. It doesn't quite sit right.

Boyle and Franco do, however, an excellent job in creating a deteriorating mind, with the hallucinatory monsoon, his relationships now assumed to be forever passed and his coming to terms with his own lifestyle choices that led him to where he finds himself. Contrasting water- and freedom-based motifs before and after the accident work well in accentuating his lack of both, which comes across clearly in Franco's performance.

I think directors should be given credit for attempting ambitious projects, and with, perhaps, just Phone Booth and Buried as reference points, Boyle pulls it off yet again. It's not perfect, it's not always an easy watch, but it nevertheless is one you will remember.

4/5