Over the past year, I have felt very nostalgic for one specific reason. 2010 was a pivotal year for my adult life. To start, I was in my second full year of college and working as part of the journalism program on a web show called Nerd’s Eye View (we eventually transitioned into podcasts). Because we were about pop culture, we often spent weekends together watching every new release, preparing to talk about them on next week’s show. As someone who would also go on to run The Oscar Buzz website, it was also a formative moment for my awards show history.
It was the first year that I actually paid attention to the ins and outs, following conversations and feeling my own personal disappointments as The Social Network (2010) lost to The King’s Speech (2010). What you can’t appreciate unless you were there is the anticipation, the conversations that emerged. For the first time in my life, I was talking to like-minded individuals as we developed our own personal tastes together. It was an exciting time, and I think many of my key moments as a cinephile stem from those months. In one very specific case, I think it even shaped my own strange interest in films. While there were many masterpieces of that year, I don’t think any have resonated in quite the same way that Black Swan (2010) has.
I understand that there’s been a ton of psychological horror movies before or since, but for me, there is nothing quite like Black Swan. It’s an amazing achievement in melodrama, creating this dive into obsession and insanity that threw so much at the audience. It was provocative, stylish, and connected with me in dozens of ways. I loved Natalie Portman’s performance. I loved how director Darren Aronofsky shot the dance sequences. Even the film score would become the first that I ever obsessed over, starting an interest that’s been with me ever since.
On December 3, the film celebrated its 10th anniversary and has caused me to feel sentimental all over again. I think it’s to Aronofsky’s credit that there isn’t a film that attacks my soul with as much force every time that I’ve watched it (which is often). If you love Black Swan, there’s a good chance that we can be friends. It plays into so many of my interests, and I wonder if younger/older generations appreciate it as much as I do. It was a formative experience that taught me so much about the filmmaking process. While these are only five reasons that I love Black Swan, you can rest assured that there’s more where this came from. As Portman would say, it was perfect.
1. The Music
Before I get too far into this Top 5, I need to start with a shameful secret. When I was 21, I wasn’t all that informed about classical music. I still don’t know it that well and am fascinated by those my age who have any emotional connection to it. While I love contemporary film scores, I couldn’t tell you anything about Tchaikovsky, and in 2010 I knew even less. Because of that, I would listen to the Clint Mansell score and find myself enraptured by the classical orchestration. I wondered how he made such magnificent melodies that built to these breathtaking crescendos in the third act. It was this perfect blend of classical, electronic, and subtle psychological horror. What I didn’t know was that Swan Lake was a real show. I thought that Mansell had made it all up.
Of course, I’ve learned my lesson since, but the one thing remains clear: this was my first. While there are other formative soundtracks that I loved earlier – Snatch (2000), Kill Bill Vol. 1 (2003), and Juno (2007) especially – I hadn’t loved orchestration. Maybe it’s because of the complementary way that music mixes with ballet, but something connected with me as I watched Portman’s dance that haunts the screen. To watch her stare into the camera behind this macabre black swan make-up remains one of the most powerful images I’ve seen. It also helped that the score was so bombastic, guiding me along the way. I needed to know what made this film work on a components level.
I can’t say that it’s still my favorite of the hundreds I’ve listened to since, but it will always be special because it was the first time that I noticed what a score can bring to a film. It was capable of making the quiet darkness of Portman’s mind haunting, the mental breakdowns horrifying exhibits, and an elegant score that could send goosebumps down your spine. So much of the score feels alive, and it’s something that I’ve generally looked for in every work I’ve consumed since. To me, music is essential to making a story work and I hate dull or generic picks. If you’re going to make an authentic, passionate piece of work, make it as bold and singular as you can. Make the music elevate your context. It’s telling that I was at The Mark Taper Forum last year and saw an ad for an upcoming production of Swan Lake. My mind was taken back to this film, and all I could do was laugh at the idea of melodramatic ballerinas. This movie has really warped my mind.
2. The Acting
Is it possible that this is as good as Portman would ever be? With exception to Jackie (2016), I haven’t found a role of hers that has resonated as much to me. She has admitted herself that this was a movie she had to make, if for no other reason than that she was aging out of it. In a few years, she might not be able to handle the grueling physical demands, the pressure to bring something aggressive to this role. At every turn you’re watching her tear her hair (or skin or feathers) out, attempting to find the perfection that is being lobbed onto her. Can she be the very best like no one ever was?
An underrated aspect of Black Swan is how she reacts to everyone with this closeted nature. She has the performer’s mask, which the world sees. It’s flawless. However, the closer to her privacy, the more you see her mind unravel. The breathing becomes heavier, the delusions begin to feel real. Is she really a swan? Is she really having lustful desires for Mila Kunis? It’s hard to say, but Aronofsky conveys the struggle of pressure perfectly, finding sexual harassment from coaches (Vincent Cassel), emotional turmoil from parents (Barbara Hershey), and even the omen of becoming an irrelevant has been (Winona Ryder). She’s no longer a person, but a commodity.
Portman’s physicality is sacrificial, and Aronofsky highlights every painful twist and turn. He perfectly captures the artist at the point of a nervous breakdown, and somewhere in my head, I can relate. Sure, you can argue that this is melodrama and in no way reflective of reality, but the idea that perfection is only a mask for the desperation to impress, to be something more than yourself, is something all artists face. This is a great role because it’s serious drama but also deeply rooted in camp and kitsch at points. It takes true skill to make it all flow flamboyantly from a pirouette. With this role, Portman immortalizes herself as the craziest, most magnetic ballerina I’ve ever seen in film (The Red Shoes (1948) included). Nobody even comes close. Not until they find a way to outdo the freak-outs will they be considered.
3. The Melodrama
I remember during the time of Black Swan reading a website that argued that this was both one of the best and worst films. Their argument was that even if it was well made, the melodrama was at times too ham-fisted and campy. How could Cassel be such a pervert, objectifying Portman with sexual commands? How could Hershey lack compassion as the dance mom from hell? Even the idea that Portman was taking all of this seriously felt like a high school tactic, where the drama seemed absurd. It would take me several years to come to terms with the idea that camp could be great cinema, but I also have to ask: what’s so wrong with any of this?
Sure, it’s heightened emotions that are played at the loudest volume possible. I frankly adore the movie because it takes such bold risks. It allows the characters to be so flawed and broken, not recognizing the pain that they bestow on each other for the same of this mythical perfectionism. I love that it’s a commentary on how the arts make women disposable, where Portman replaced Ryder and Mila Kunis (her understudy) is gunning for that number one spot. This is all juicy deceitfulness that makes for great cinema, especially when being able to comment on how stupid obsession is without outright saying that it’s stupid.
Why do we allow it to tear us apart? It takes a bold auteur to make the psychological struggles into something visual and exciting. To be caught up in those emotions creates something that the best of cinema can achieve. It could just be that I am a sucker for misunderstood women stories, but Black Swan raised it to high art. You not only understood her pain, you saw it in every hallucination. There are still details in a certain dance scene that I have yet to catch (so many swan allusions). Aronofsky went all out to make one of the most visually arresting movies I have seen, and every frame is beautiful and haunting. It’s campy, sure, but is that such a bad thing? History has proven just how much that doesn’t matter.
4. The Dancing
Along with the music and a love of misunderstood women narratives, I am enamored with how Aronofsky shoots these dance sequences. It was my first recognition of the value of handheld cameras, especially in the opening as a camera runs around Portman, dancing in this cryptic, haunting number that conveys the whole story in a matter of movements. There is so much passion and emotion that is found on her face, her body moving into a perfectly timed syncopation. The further away from the pattern she goes, the more likely she is to find herself in darkness, incapable of receiving the accolades that she so desperately wants.
Like the rest of this story, I think it all ties into my personal interests. One of my best friends in 2010 was a dancer and I enjoyed going to her events. I love watching the movement in part because I wish that I could, but also because there really is something about the turns and lifts that says something deeper about our soul. I can’t claim that I understand what everything means, but art is interpretive for a reason. I love dance still, especially in the form of musicals, and admire figures like Anne Marsen, Twitch, and Misty Copeland. Still, none of them have stuck the landing as magnificently as the third act of Black Swan, where the narrative again culminates in a visual motif that needs to be seen to be believed.
5. The Awards Season
As I mentioned at the top, 2010 was the first Oscar season that I focused on intently. While I had been in and out of watching ceremonies before, this was the first year where I got to nomination day and had a strong idea of who was going show up. It would be another few years before I fully understood every possible way that a film could be nominated, but that’s what made this one exciting. I had opinions while watching The Golden Globes, or how easy it was to root for Portman when she began to sweep the season.
There isn’t much more that I have to say about this pivotal year. What I can say is that amid the Black Swan parodies, I saw The Academy attempt to become what it would by the end of the decade. Four years before Oscars So White and a few more before the bigger diverse voting body, I remember 2010 being the year that they tried to play hip and appeal to younger audiences with films like Black Swan. They even had James Franco and Anne Hathaway host in one of the most notorious ceremonies in modern history. It was a wild year and one that I look back on fondly, even if the true irony in all of this is that The Oscars trying to be hip backfired when they decided to have Billy Crystal host the following year. Oops.
Honorary Mention
The Controversy
One of the most memorable things about Black Swan was seeing how an independent movie could possibly rise up to become a box office hit. I loved learning about the technical skill that went into the film. However, there was one story that I remember being a big deal at the time. There was a concern that interns were not being paid and that body double Sarah Lane was under-compensated (there’s a whole Wikipedia page on it). It was a lesson in ways that the film industry needed to change, and I think of it whenever this movie comes up. A lot of people work hard to make movies matter, and they all deserve at least some recognition for their talents.
What are some of your favorite things about Black Swan?
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