Aronofsky

“Black Swan” is a study in internal struggle – it is, bizarrely, a coming-of-age story, a portrayal of the violence between self-exploration and living under parents.  It is an exhibition of the darkest in human drive; as the film progresses, a gash in Nina’s back is shown dug progressively deeper, bleeding more and more.  Her mother is concerned, and overly nurturing.  Her daughter digs and tears herself apart, nervously, self-destructively, for the role in the ballet, for everything she is not but sees as strength and victory. 

In her self-devouring metamorphosis, the bulimic dancer transitions from hesitant to bold, even vicious.  Yet the process is jagged; through his hallucinogenic dramatization, Aronofsky shows us Nina’s timid reluctance to move wholly into her role as the black swan.  Her crying mother’s paintings of “her sweet little girl” scream in dissonance at Nina’s evolution.  Reflections move out of sync with reality.  In Kunis’s character, Lily, Nina she sees herself, darker, and colder; reluctantly, she is attracted.   

Yet the influence becomes overwhelming, and in an attempt to kill what looks like the intruder, Nina sees that she has transformed completely and instead kills herself.  The climax of the film is a picture of martyrdom; the crowd roars and the screen washes white, yet the protagonist has destroyed herself.  Her legacy remains on Earth, yet her soul transitions to the next world.

I guess it kind of depends on what you want.

But one thing is for certain: Aronofsky knows how to make one hell of a film.