REVIEW: Black Swan

Black Swan (2010): Dir. Darren Aronofsky. Written by: Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz, John McLaughlin. Story by: Andres Heinz. Starring: Natalie Portman, Vincent Cassel, Mila Kunis, Barbara Hershey, Winona Ryder. Rated R (strong sexual content, disturbing violent images, language and some drug use). Running time: 108 minutes.

3 ½ stars (out of four)

Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan is being billed as a “psychological thriller.” The term certainly fits the film though it might mislead some to believe that Aronofsky has crafted a genre film. Black Swan is a haunting and often disturbing film, but its thrills come from within the mind. This is a horror film founded on ideas and atmosphere. Natalie Portman stars as Nina, a ballet dancer who might be losing her mind. Strange marks are appearing on her body only to disappear a moment later. She’s having hallucinations. Or are they really there? Once reality is questioned, the floor drops out from underneath her and the audience follows her on a quest to understand the unknowable and invisible forces affecting her.

Nina dances for a company in New York. Thomas, the company’s director (Vincent Cassel) has promised to feature her more this season and she has an outside chance of being cast in the starring role of Swan Lake after the company's previous star (Winona Ryder) announces her retirement. The part is a double role – the White Swan and the Black Swan. Thomas explains to her that while she’s the best dancer in the company and an easy choice to play the graceful and fragile White Swan, she lacks the Black Swan’s passion and sexuality. He has a reputation, however, for being romantically involved with his dancers and Nina knows how to play her cards. After some ethically questionable casting practices, she lands the part.

Nina’s mother (Barbara Hershey) is delighted by the news. She gave up dancing when she had Nina and has been living vicariously through her daughter’s career. She pampers Nina and we see why Nina finds the Black Swan such a challenge. Her bedroom is filled with her childhood stuffed animals and her mother still tucks her in at night. Between Thomas’s sexual advances and the stress of the role, her sheltered life is slowly crumbling.

Expediting that process is Lily (Mila Kunis), a dancer who has just flown in from California. She embodies everything about the Black Swan that Nina doesn’t – she’s flirtatious, passionate, relaxed – and soon has a strange hold over Nina. Why did she suddenly appear now, on the verge of Nina’s newfound success? Whether her arrival is a coincidence or a conspiracy, she becomes to Nina a professional and sexual competitor.

In a way, Black Swan has much in common with Aronofsky’s previous effort, The Wrestler. Both films follow a performer’s struggle to live up to expectations they’ve set for themselves and in both cases their performances are destroying them. Where The Wrestler was marked by a gritty realism, however, Black Swan indulges in surreal fantasy, a testament to Aronofsky’s versatility as a director. He casts a hypnotic atmosphere over the film, drawing the viewer in and maintaining its trance over the audience through the film’s final moments.

In Aronofsky’s hands, a small New York apartment becomes a claustrophobic cell for Nina. Lily briefly draws her out of her shell and takes her to a dance club that, after a few drinks and a pill, becomes a hallucinatory nightmare. This scene, one of the film’s best, is one of several mesmerizing sequences that draw the viewer into Nina’s perspective. We see and experience her distorted reality, unable to distinguish the real from the imagined. How much of what we see is a fantasy? A dream? Delusions? Real life? Would making such distinctions really matter anyways?

With this film and his earlier work, Aronofsky has proved himself to be a skilled stylist, making it easy to forget how much of an actor’s director he is. His past films have featured performances of the highest caliber (Ellen Burstyn in Requiem for a Dream, Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler) and Black Swan is no exception. Natalie Portman carries the film as Nina, balancing the character’s fearful anxieties with sudden dark turns. She also succeeds in the difficult task of acting while dancing. When Thomas criticizes Nina for being too tense and controlled as the Black Swan, we can see in Portman's face what he is talking about.

Also excellent is Kunis, who has found her breakout role here. She brings to the film much of the charm that marked her performances in lighter fare such as “That 70’s Show” and Forgetting Sarah Marshall, and finds use for it in considerably darker material. Her Lily is seductive and cavalier, and makes for a compelling foil to Portman’s Nina. Barbara Hershey is chilling as the controlling mother, and Vincent Cassel brings the right amount of sleaze and menace to his character.

Nina’s surreal experience could be taken as a metaphor for the craft of acting. As her unusual transformation takes hold of her, parallels begin to develop between the play and her life. Aronofsky does not limit the film to this one interpretation, however. He deftly moves back and forth between fantasy and reality so that the viewer is not trapped into a guessing game of what is real and what is not. The only reality is that onscreen and we accept the disturbing power of the film’s imagery.

Black Swan is a relentless film and is so absorbing that one needs a few minutes to readjust after the closing credits roll. Each scene flows into the next to make for a nightmarish whole. There are brief moments of reprieve (the film occasionally has a bizarre sense of humor), but even these maintain the film's grasp on the viewer. Black Swan is indeed a thriller, one that explores the tenuous nature of identity and reveals how fragile the mind’s hold on that identity can be.

- Steve Avigliano, 12/26/10

REVIEW: The Tourist

The Tourist (2010): Dir. Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck. Written by: Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, Christopher McQuarrie, Julian Fellowes, based on a French film Anthony Zimmer (written by Jérôme Salle). Starring: Angelina Jolie, Johnny Depp, Paul Bettany, Timothy Dalton, Steven Berkoff. Rated PG-13 (violence and brief strong language). Running time: 103 minutes.

2 stars (out of four)

Frank Tupelo (played by Johnny Depp) is an American tourist who reads spy novels. A good adventure story excites him and, like any of us, he is eager to believe an unbelievable story if it means getting caught up in some excitement for at least a little while. So when the beautiful Elise (Angelina Jolie) sits across from him on a train ride through the France, it doesn’t take long for him to get caught up in some international intrigue. By the end of the film, he becomes absorbed in the action but forgets to bring his like-minded adventure-seekers – us, the audience – with him. We sit there, willing to believe the preposterous story unfolding onscreen but the film takes advantage of our tolerance and goes from being merely unbelievable to nearly unbearable.

The film begins with Elise, a beautiful woman with a high-profile boyfriend, Alexander Pearce, who is being hunted on two fronts. The British government wants him for stealing millions and a mobster (Steven Berkoff) wants him for stealing billions. A letter from Pearce instructs Elise to find a man on a train with a similar body type to his. The Brits, led by a determined agent (Paul Bettany), know that Pearce has undergone constructive surgery and can be easily thrown off the trail with a decoy.

The decoy is Frank and from here the film becomes a Hitchcockian story of mistaken identity. The problem, however, is that the entry point into that story is all wrong. Hitchcock understood that a mysterious story on its own isn’t enough to hook the audience. We have to be lured into it. By introducing us first to Elise rather than Frank, the film takes the wind out of a good premise by letting the audience in on too much too quickly.

Awful writing doesn’t help the film either. The screenplay is rushed, banking on the film’s star power to generate interest in its thinly sketched characters. For what it’s worth though, Johnny Depp works hard to make Frank’s naïve, wet behind the ears tourist a likable character. Even when Depp is delivering the clumsiest of lines, we believe his face while we cringe at the words he’s been asked to say. Depp’s performance is an honest one that reminds us why he’s a movie star. Angelina Jolie’s lips, on the other hand, remind us why she is. Her character is a stiff, uninteresting spy film stock character, the kind of bland femme fatale that the hero usually passes over for the more homely but charming heroine. No such character exists in The Tourist.

The rest of the cast fills out their roles well enough. Bettany is good as an agent desperate to crack the case and look good to his boss (played by former Bond, Timothy Dalton) and Berkoff makes a fine villain. Were the rest of the film better, their performances might have been colorful exercises in spy movie side characters. As the film is though, they only serve to take screen time away from our protagonists, who we don’t very much care about anyway.

Strange that Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck helms this film, a German director whose native-language debut The Lives of Others won him a deserved Oscar for Best Foreign Film. That film, a thoughtful meditation on the nature voyeurism and surveillance, presented Donnersmarck as an exciting new voice. Why he chose such a lackluster spy flick as its follow-up is beyond me, though maybe this will take some of the pressures and expectations off him when crafting his next feature.

One can’t help though but put much of the blame here on Donnersmarck. He seems uncomfortable directing the material and he either wasn’t allowed to make many of the creative decisions or simply deferred the responsibility to studio heads. The oddly trite musical score by James Newton Howard, for example, is a disaster. It alternates between thumping techno in the action scenes and sappy strings in the would-be romantic ones, successfully undermining every scene in the film.

The pacing is off too. The film takes a long time to get started and doesn’t do much once it does. When we finally reach the absurd ending, we barely care that it makes no logical sense. Fortunately for Donnersmarck, the rest of the film is bad enough that no one would want to go back for a second viewing to find all the plot holes.

A good spy film needn’t be realistic, but there is a difference between the unbelievable and the unbelievably contrived. The Tourist straddles that line and jumps head first onto the wrong side.

- Steve Avigliano, 12/17/10

REVIEW: 127 Hours

127 Hours (2010): Dir. Danny Boyle. Written by Simon Beaufoy and Danny Boyle, based on the memoir Between a Rock and a Hard Place by Aron Ralston. Starring James Franco. Rated R (language and some disturbing violent content/bloody images). Running time: 95 minutes.

3 ½ stars (out of four)

In reviewing Conviction a few weeks ago, I wrote that “some great stories just aren’t cinematic stories.” 127 Hours argues quite convincingly, however, that in the hands of a skilled enough director, any story can become cinematic. At first, the story of Aron Ralston (played in the film by James Franco) would seem to be as inherently un-cinematic as they come. Trapped for 127 hours in the crevice of a Utah canyon with a rock crushing his arm, Ralston fought the elements to survive and wrestled with his personal demons during his isolation. Director Danny Boyle, fresh off an Oscar win for Slumdog Millionaire, takes up the difficult task of transforming this material into something visually interesting and the result is exhilarating.

Following Slumdog, audiences should be familiar with the director’s kinetic style. His films are fueled by an inexhaustible energy, incorporating handheld camerawork, split screens and any other device at Boyle’s disposal. One would think that being confined to such a physically small space as he is here would limit his style, but Boyle makes the most of the canyon crevice’s spatial limitations. His camera takes the viewer to the bottom of Ralston’s water bottle, miles up into the sky to provide a literal bird’s-eye view, and even inside the very muscles of Ralston’s injured arm.

Boyle’s stylistic flourishes are not self-indulgent though, but essential to bringing out the humanity of the story. The film visualizes the internal struggle of an isolated man with nothing to listen to but his own thoughts. As Ralston’s mind races, the viewer dives in and out of memories and fantasies. Here we get snippets of backstory. Ralston is confident to the point of arrogant and has pushed away the most important people in his life – his girlfriend, his parents. He’s so cocky that he doesn’t even need to tell anyone where he’s going or what he’s doing the day of the accident. From the bottom of a crevice in the middle of nowhere he replays the accident in his mind and cannot help but see his current situation as the inevitable result of his egotism.

Much credit must also be given here to James Franco, whose performance is a career-best. When presented with a story such as Ralston’s, we often wonder: What would we do if faced with the same situation? Franco understands this and brings us even deeper into the film by making his performance relatable. We see his initial bewilderment and feel his frustration and eventual despair. By the end of the film, Franco has taken us through every step of an emotional catharsis and the experience is a draining one.

Fortunately, that experience is brief and editor Jon Harris keeps the film at a manageable 95 minutes. As editor, Harris maintains complete control over the film’s chaotic style. The combination of handheld cameras and fast-paced editing can often have nauseating results, but Harris knows how to use these techniques to elicit a response from the audience. We only feel claustrophobic or dizzy when he wants us to. And despite the quick cuts in cramped quarters, the audience is always fully aware of what is happening.

Perhaps this is the film’s greatest strength. Danny Boyle has not only succeeded in making a seemingly unfilmable movie, but he somehow made it accessible too. There are a few scenes in 127 Hours not for the feint of heart (Boyle doesn’t shy away from some of the more gruesome moments in Ralston’s story), but the film does a wonderful job of taking an extraordinary experience and putting it into terms we can all understand. More so than Slumdog, 127 Hours puts Danny Boyle on the map of today’s best directors and shows that films can tell any story as long as the filmmakers are up to the challenge.

- Steve Avigliano, 12/07/10

REVIEW: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 (2010): Dir. David Yates and Ben Hibon (animated sequence). Written by Steve Kloves, based on the novel by J.K. Rowling. Starring: Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, Ralph Fiennes, Helena Bonham Carter, Alan Rickman. Rated PG-13 (some sequences of intense action violence, frightening images and brief sensuality). Running time: 146 minutes.

3 stars (out of four)

The Harry Potter franchise has always faced a catch-22. The first film was released while J.K. Rowling was only halfway through writing the series, so for many fans, the books and movies are intertwined in a way unlike any other book-to-movie adaptation. During a summer when we were bombarded with simultaneous ads for the final novel and the fifth movie, how could one read The Deathly Hallows without picturing Daniel Radcliffe as Harry or imagining how certain scenes would eventually play out onscreen? The movies changed the way we pictured the world and characters of the novels. Similarly, it is difficult watch the films without making constant mental comparisons to the books still fresh in our minds.

This presents a problem for the filmmakers. Ideally, a film adaptation should be free to make whatever adjustments are necessary make the story work in movie form. For the Harry Potter films, however, the filmmakers feel extra pressure to remain faithful to the books. Change or condense too much and you upset the fans. Each installment in the series has handled this issue to varying degrees of success. The third, Prisoner of Azkaban took the greatest liberties with its source material but in some ways stayed most true to the tone of the novel. On the other hand, the fifth film, Order of the Phoenix, excised so many subplots that the pacing was thrown off. The movie moved too fast to tell such a complex story. Then again, maybe that was just the Potter fan in me disappointed to see my favorite book (a whopping 800+ pages long) condensed to a lean two hours.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is a different sort of beast for a few reasons. The filmmakers elected to divide the book into two movies and release them eight months apart, a decision that has its benefits and its drawbacks. By splitting the story down the middle, the viewer is left with the anticlimactic feeling of having only seen half a movie. Part 1 also ends on a pretty limp cliffhanger that fails to excite because we don’t yet understand how it fits into the larger picture.

Yet in spite of this unnatural division, the additional running time afforded by the two-part release plan gives the film a chance to breathe, something the last three films rarely got a chance to do.

The film opens with Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes) hissing his plan to his Death Eater disciples (as if they didn’t already know): to kill Harry Potter. Here, Fiennes finally gets the opportunity to delve into the nastiness of Voldemort and his performance reminds us why the character is such a great villain.

Meanwhile, Harry (Daniel Radcliffe), Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson) are on the search to find Voldemort’s missing horcruxes – objects that contain fragments of the Dark Lord’s soul. In order to kill You Know Who, they must first destroy the hidden horcruxes. This quest leads our young heroes away from Hogwarts, which means considerably less screen time for most of the supporting characters. Series favorites such as Hagrid (Robbie Coltrane) and Severus Snape (Alan Rickman) only get a handful of scenes, but will no doubt return for Part 2.

The relaxed pacing of TDH Part 1 also allows for some wonderful scenes that might not have made it into a more condensed script. The best of these is an animated sequence that tells the mythical fable of “The Three Brothers,” which plays an important role in the story. The scene, directed by animator Ben Hibon, is one of the film’s most visually inventive moments and its inclusion enriches the mythology of Rowling’s universe.

The film also strikes a balance between the bleak tone of the later films and the ever-present whimsy of Rowling’s world. There’s even room for a few laughs when the gang infiltrates the Ministry of Magic disguised as wizarding adults.

The Deathly Hallows Part 1 is one of the strongest installments of the series and will hopefully become even better when taken into consideration with Part 2. Could the two films have been condensed into one longer film? Perhaps, but at the cost of which scenes? There may be no perfect way to adapt the books, but this may be as close as the films come to delivering a satisfying and faithful Harry Potter film.

- Steve Avigliano, 12/02/10