Much has been made about the brilliance of Natalie Portman's role in Darren Aronofsky's Black Swan. True, it does not take much to excel beyond the limited offerings of a George Lucas script in the first three episodes of Star Wars. "Be careful, Annie." "I'll be here, Annie." (Is it a little disturbing that the dark force of Darth Vader shares the same name as a little red headed orphan in New York in the 30s who believes that the sun will come out tomorrow?)
And yet, in Black Swan I found Natalie Portman to be the least interesting thing. I mean, c'mon. How often do I need to see her cry? And boy, does she cry a lot in the film. In addition, her character is almost entirely internalized. True, transferring an internal character to the visual nature of the screen is a difficult thing to do (Portman does well with her facial expressions, when she isn't looking like a doe before a grizzly bear), but there is no growth there and no interest in her character.
Instead, what is so appealing about the film is its incredible visual flair. There are some really cool, brief moments of uncertainty that creep across the screen. There are moments of shock (some a bit overdone with the ubiquitous musical cue). The color pallet is controlled nicely as whites, blacks and grays dominate the film. Barbara Hershey as the mother from hell is precisely that. I think she could give Joan Crawford a run for her money.
However, ultimately, one leaves the film, despite the visual flair, asking why does madness always have to be the excuse? Aren't there other means to explore the psyche of a young woman?
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