Revisiting Star Wars - Episode III: Revenge of the Sith

Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (2005): Written and directed by George Lucas. Starring: Ewan McGregor, Hayden Christensen, Natalie Portman, Ian McDiarmid and Samuel L. Jackson. Rated PG-13 (Slain younglings and a charred body). Running time: 140 minutes.

3 ½ stars (out of four)

What a relief Episode III is. Where the previous Star Wars movie, Attack of the Clones, often seemed hesitant to do anything but belabor political exposition, Revenge of the Sith lets loose, unafraid to go over the top. This is a film that revels in its grandeur and embraces its eccentricities. For the first time since the original trilogy, we are reminded why George Lucas became such a revered name in blockbuster entertainment.  He swings for the fences and delivers a thrilling, unabashed space opera.

The Clone War is nearing its end and Chancellor Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid) continues to rally support and gain power in the Senate. He has taken Anakin (Hayden Christensen) under his wing, a relationship the Jedi Council fears. While there is little doubt the Republic is winning the war, the Jedi express concern that Palpatine may be priming himself for a dictatorship once the fighting is over. Anakin becomes caught in the middle, asked by both Palpatine and the Jedi Council to spy on the other.

Though the plot relies on politics established by the previous two films, Revenge of the Sith wisely brings its characters to the forefront and uses the politics as a backdrop for the action. Anakin’s transformation has precedence in the story and we see how Palpatine poisons his mind with tantalizing stories of Sith Lords who have conquered death. This possibility excites Anakin, who grows increasingly fearful that he will lose his wife, Amidala (Natalie Portman). By giving Anakin a clear motivation to turn to the Dark Side, Mr. Lucas brings some much-needed focus to the film.

Perhaps because of this newfound focus, the acting, which was a weak point in both of the earlier prequels, is stronger. Hayden Christensen lacked the subtlety to make Anakin’s initial steps toward the Dark Side believable in Episode II, but his weaknesses as an actor are less of an issue in Episode III, a film with few subtleties. Here, his cheesy line delivery is almost well suited to the film’s tone.

Natalie Portman isn’t given much to do other than look distraught and weep (both are things she excels at), and Ewan McGregor continues his strong work as Obi-Wan. Even Samuel L. Jackson gets some memorable scenes in a part specifically tailored to his strengths – looking cool and delivering passionate monologues. Mr. Jackson has a way of making even the blandest of exposition sound like a sharp one-liner.

The true scene-stealer of Revenge of the Sith, however, is Ian McDiarmid. He is a thrill to watch in his scenes with Mr. Christensen as he gains Anakin’s trust before luring him to the Dark Side. Mr. McDiarmid has the quiet, screen-commanding presence typical of a British thespian but is equally convincing when called upon to shout at the top of his lungs and shoot lighting bolts from his fingers. As the central villain of the entire saga, both qualities are essential.

Mr. Lucas allows a number of scenes to enter over the top territory, a choice that works because of the film’s operatic grandeur. Where else should the climactic battle between Anakin and Obi-Wan take place but on a volcanic planet where lava explodes around them? And while Palpatine bides his time revealing his true motivations, the wonderfully named General Grievous (voiced by the film’s sound editor, Matthew Wood), a caped, asthmatic robot, serves as the antagonist.

Visually, the film is as stunning as we have come to expect from the new Star Wars films but Episode III is also vibrant and colorful in a way its predecessors were not. The sets and costumes are imbued with an almost expressionistic style, making it perhaps the most visually interesting Star Wars. Even a relatively simple set such as the Chancellor’s office is painted lavish hues of purple. Take also, for example, the scene when Anakin and Palpatine converse in a balcony seat at an opera. The scene, which is exquisitely shot, offers occasional glimpses of the performance – ribbons streaking through a watery sphere – and we are reminded that the Star Wars films take place in a richly detailed and fully realized world. Even in his final (to date) film, Mr. Lucas finds room to continue exploring and inventing in his fictional universe.

When watching Revenge of the Sith, one gets the impression that George Lucas is giving it everything he’s got. His energy and enthusiasm can be felt in every scene. Many viewers will likely continue to put the original trilogy on an untouchable pedestal but with Episode III, Mr. Lucas has created an extravagant and supremely entertaining movie, as wild and exciting as one can ever hope for from a Star Wars film.

- Steve Avigliano, 2/21/12

Revisiting Star Wars - Episode II: Attack of the Clones

Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones (2002): Written and directed by George Lucas. Starring: Ewan McGregor, Natalie Portman, Hayden Christensen, Ian McDiarmid, Samuel L. Jackson and Christopher Lee. Rated PG (Bloodless violence and some smooching). Running time: 142 minutes.

2 stars (out of four) 

On the surface, Attack of the Clones seems to offer everything we have come to expect from a Star Wars film – lightsabers, blasters, a woman with her hair in a bun. As a standalone film, however, it’s a mess. Strip away the familiar settings, characters and John Williams score and what we have is an overlong political thriller, all exposition and no payoff.

The film begins on Coruscant with a failed attempt to assassinate Amidala (Natalie Portman), who has been elected Senator in the ten years between this film and the last. She has returned to the capitol planet to vote on the creation of an army for the Republic, a military force that would be used to quell the growing separatist party and… already the film has lost us. George Lucas has responded to criticism regarding Episode I’s confusing politics by writing an entire film about them.

But let’s set all that aside for now. What is important is that Amidala is in danger and two old friends are assigned to protect her – Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) and the all grown up Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen). Following a second attempt on the senator’s life, Anakin becomes her personal bodyguard while Obi-Wan follows up on a clue left by the assassin.

His investigation leads him to the rainy planet Kamino where he learns that a clone army is already being built for the Republic. Who ordered this secret army and when? Perhaps answers will be found on the drab, desert world of Geonosis where Count Dooku (Christopher Lee), leader of the separatist movement, hides.

Somewhere in here is the potential for a good detective story but Attack of the Clones is all mystery and no intrigue. We’re always a few steps behind the film, grappling to understand political motives when we should be absorbed in the action. This is what happens when the motives of characters take a backseat to those of committees, senates and councils.

The few characters we have to cling onto aren’t much to speak of. Mrs. Portman is even stiffer than she was in the first. Count Dooku is a perfunctory villain and Christopher Lee’s performance feels strained, particularly in comparison to the actor’s portrayal of Saruman in The Lord of the Rings (which played in theaters the same year as Attack of the Clones). Only Ewan McGregor gets away unscathed; his Obi-Wan is charming, personable and the sole character worth rooting for.

Hayden Christensen, the poor guy, is horribly miscast. His take on Anakin is all wrong. Anakin’s innate abilities have made him cocky but rather than playing the character with a sort of self-assured charisma, Mr. Christensen is unlikable from the get-go. He is whiny and full of himself, oblivious that he comes off as a real prick. He’s the guy you meet at a party and immediately know you don’t want to talk to. I suppose at least half the fault here lies with Mr. Lucas for writing the character this way but, man, you’d think the protagonist of the whole trilogy would at least make for tolerable company.

Then there are the would-be romantic scenes, so clumsy and awkward they threaten to derail the whole film. Mr. Christensen hits on Mrs. Portman with pitiful pick-up lines, ogling her like a pervy teen. The two have no chemistry together and their scenes become labored exercises in clichés that would sound uninspired on a soap opera.

The only moment when Attack of the Clones works is in a scene late in the film when our heroes are tied to stone pillars and face a gladiatorial public execution. The three monsters that show up to kill them look as though they have been lifted from some glorious, forgotten B-grade horror film, and what fun it is to watch Obi-Wan, Anakin and Amidala thwart them!

Even this is short lived though. The troops march in and the battle that ensues is disorienting because we don’t know which side to root for. If Palpatine’s Republic army is a prototype for the Empire from later episodes, aren’t the separatists the good guys? Count Dooku is said to be dabbling in the Dark Side. So he’s on the politically correct side, but the wrong side of the Force? Again, why is George Lucas making everything so complicated? By the time we get to Yoda’s thoroughly silly fight scene, we’ve lost all interest in the film.

Much of the action goes unexplained and the plot becomes so muddled and unclear that multiple viewings are necessary to follow it all. Why, for example, was Amidala the assassination target and not one of the galaxy’s thousand-or-so other senators? And who is behind it all? That these important details should remain obscured from the audience through to the film’s end is absurd. The special effects are amazing as expected but without a coherent story to anchor them, they are just window-dressings. Attack of the Clones is a failure of storytelling, though at least it’s a failure set to a John Williams score.

- Steve Avigliano, 2/17/12

Revisiting Star Wars - Episode I: The Phantom Menace

With the 3D re-release of The Phantom Menace arriving in theaters Friday, I thought I would take a look back at the Star Wars films and reassess them. I have long been a fan of the series but never gave myself the opportunity to watch them from an unbiased perspective. Beginning today and continuing over the next five weeks I will do just that. I will review them not by comparing them to one another or ranking them, but by looking closely at each and discussing their strengths and shortcomings as standalone movies. I will include a brief wrap-up post following the Return of the Jedi review. (Note: The review below is not of the 3D re-release, which I have not yet seen, but was written after revisiting the film on DVD.)

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Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace (1999): Written and directed by George Lucas. Starring: Liam Neeson, Ewan McGregor, Natalie Portman, Jake Lloyd, Ian McDiarmid, Ahmed Best and Ray Park. Rated PG (Blasters, lightsabers, the usual). Running time: 133 minutes.

3 stars (out of four) 

The first Star Wars prequel was in an unenviable position in 1999. By some cultural fluke, George Lucas’s films about a galaxy far, far away had become an absolute phenomenon and two decades later, diehards and new fans alike prepared to sit in theaters and watch the first of three new movies in the series. No other film has had to endure these levels of anticipation, and the hype surrounding Episode I will surely never be replicated. The Phantom Menace was perhaps destined to disappoint many, thrill others and set box office records regardless.

Now that ample time has passed and the prequels have jelled into our collective cultural consciousness much as the original trilogy has, we may look at the film for what it really is. Forget comparing the movie to its predecessors. Throw away any preconceived notion of what it should have been. Taken on its own terms, Episode I is a flawed but undeniably entertaining movie boasting a lighthearted tone and a wonderful sense of invention.

We meet a young Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) as he nears the end of his Jedi knight training under Qui-Gon Jinn (Liam Neeson). The two have been sent to the planet Naboo to investigate a political squabble. The squabble soon turns into a full-scale invasion by the Trade Federation – a nefarious organization led by a pair of green, robed, noseless aliens – and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan must protect Naboo’s leader, the young and beautiful Queen Amidala (Natalie Portman).

One thing leads to another and they are forced to stop on a familiar planet (familiar to us, not them): the desert world of Tatooine. There they meet a precocious, little, slave boy named Anakin Skywalker (Jake Lloyd). There is something special about the boy, Qui-Gon says. Those familiar with the original trilogy know what Anakin’s future holds but for now he is simply a gifted child. So gifted, in fact, that Qui-Gon decides to buy him from his owner, Waddo (voiced by Andy Secombe), a winged creature with the schnoz of an anteater, and take the boy on as a second apprentice.

Buying the boy will not be so easy though, Waddo explains. Qui-Gon must win Anakin by betting on a podrace, a delightfully dirty (and very dangerous) sport where racers fly hovering vehicles through canyons and caves. Cheating and sabotaging other racers’ pods are not only allowed but apparently encouraged too.

George Lucas and his team of designers and computer animators let their imaginations run wild with this and every other scene in the film. At every turn, Episode I offers us some new, dazzling thing to look at and the sheer joy of taking it all in is intoxicating. I have not yet even mentioned Darth Maul (Ray Park), the silent, shadowy villain with red and black face paint and horns on his head who stalks our heroes. Or the majestic, underwater world of half-fish people who live in giant bubbles. Or the city so big it takes up an entire planet.

The Phantom Menace is a cheerful adventure that hops from one richly detailed world to another. Is the film’s tone sometimes childish? Sure, but that’s no problem since Mr. Lucas has elected to make a children’s film. One that has the ability to draw you into its playful world if you allow it to. (The much-despised Jar-Jar Binks (Ahmed Best), a resident of the aforementioned underwater world, is a grating presence, that much I will concede, but no less so than any other goofy, kids’ movie sidekick.)

If the movie is truly aimed at younglings, however, why is it bogged down with convoluted political exposition? The opening scroll refers to a tax dispute and trade blockades. There are senators and chancellors debating the galactic legality of the Trade Federation’s actions. Surely Mr. Lucas cannot expect children to follow these scenes, much less enjoy them. Can’t the bad guys just be bad guys for the heroes to defeat?

On top of this, the script is encumbered by clumsy, hackneyed dialogue. Mr. Lucas’s strength never was for writing dialogue but this lack was never as apparent in the original trilogy as it is here. The actors deliver their lines in bland, overly serious, faux-fancy talk, looking less animated than the ubiquitous CGI surrounding them.

In another film these issues would be damning. That the film is still a lot of fun in spite of these problems is a testament to the strength of its action. The finale, a sort of Star Wars Greatest Hits that intercuts a lightsaber fight, a space battle, a ground war and a stealthy break-in, is thrilling enough to make you forget all those dull scenes in the Senate and ends the film on a high note.

Is the movie as good as the old ones? Does it have to be? I am inclined to say that Episode I falls more in line with George Lucas’s original vision for Star Wars than perhaps some fans are willing to admit. His original inspiration came from the serialized space operas of pulp magazines and The Phantom Menace offers many of the same pleasures as those adventure stories: strange planets, heroic rescues, epic battles and more than a little cheese. The film might have benefited from trimming the politics and a few dialogue rewrites but these are not serious detriments because the plot is not what is on display here. This is a movie infatuated with its own bright, colorful, zippy self and, now more than ever, I am all too happy to succumb to its gleeful pleasures.

- Steve Avigliano, 2/9/12

REVIEW: Thor

Thor (2011): Dir. Kenneth Branagh. Written by: Ashley Edward Miller, Zach Stentz and Don Payne. Story by: J. Michael Straczynski and Mark Protosevich. Based on the comics by Stan Lee, Larry Lieber and Jack Kirby. Starring: Chris Hemsworth, Natalie Portman, Tom Hiddleston, Anthony Hopkins and Stellan Skarsgård. Rated PG-13 (sequences of intense sci-fi action and violence). Running time: 114 minutes. 

2 stars (out of four)

Thor, the latest superhero flick to enjoy the Marvel Studios branding, is a slick and efficient product designed for summer consumption. Many of the Marvel movies in recent years have succeeded because, in spite of their big-budget excesses, they felt like labors of love, made by people with a real appreciation of the films’ characters and mythologies. Thor unfortunately appears to have been made more with product placement and the eventual Avengers tie-in in mind. The result is not a bad film but certainly a disposable one that does little to convince non-fans why the Norse god needed to be brought to screens.

Turns out Thor (Chris Hemsworth) is not actually Norwegian at all but an extraterrestrial being from the mythical world of Asgard where a monarchy is led by the wise King Odin (an eye-patch donning Anthony Hopkins). As the firstborn and rightful heir to the throne, Thor is anxious to begin his reign. Meanwhile, his younger brother Loki (Tom Hiddleston) steals jealous glances at the heir apparent. Naturally, no one takes heed of Loki’s less than subtle glowering until it is too late.

Another danger looms outside the kingdom – the age-old enemies of the Asgardians, the Frost Giants, who were long ago defeated by Odin and his army. When a few Frost Giants break into Odin’s palace to steal an ancient relic, Thor insists the formally vanquished enemies are gearing up for another fight. Eager to reignite war with the icy foes, Thor gathers a team of his warrior buddies to pay the villains a visit in spite of his father’s warnings not to. Odin punishes Thor for this disrespect by banishing him to a planet populated by wee mortals – Earth.

Shakespeare veteran Kenneth Branagh directs the film, an apt choice for this story of jealous heirs and regicide. Unfortunately, Branagh’s directorial talent cannot illuminate a dull and uninspired script. What pleasure there might have been in a twisted tale of royal family troubles is drained away by dialogue that relies on faux-fancy talk and characters over-explaining their thoughts and motivations. There are few details of the story that are not belabored in exposition-heavy dialogue.

Thor is not entirely without its entertaining moments though. Back on Earth a young astrophysicist Jane Foster (Natalie Portman) finds the exiled Thor in the New Mexico desert with a fellow scientist (Stellan Skarsgård) and their assistant (Kat Dennings). There are some amusing scenes of Thor adjusting to life on Earth providing some much-need comic relief from the stiffness of the antiquated speech found on Asgard. The film’s occasional sense of humor though rarely pokes fun the hamminess of Thor’s somber mythology. When Thor wields his hammer late in the film and Portman marvels, “Oh my God,” the irony of the line is lost.

The lack of self-awareness is a shame because the film’s extravagant visual design might have lent itself to camp. The costumes have a made-for-TV silliness about them, looking distinctly plastic when they are meant to resemble armor.

As a character, Thor is likable hero. He is a showman and a little cocky, and Chris Hemsworth, a relative newcomer from Australia, plays him well. In fight scenes, we catch him smiling at his own strength and he is amused by the quaint ways of the mortals he meets on Earth. Still, compared with the leads in more character-driven Marvel movies such as Spider-Man and Iron Man, Thor feels two-dimensional. Was this really a character that needed his own film? When he flies with his red cape billowing behind him, can anyone not think he of him as little more than a second-rate Superman?

Thor receives little help from his supporting cast, a wonderful batch of actors all given lifeless roles. Portman, cashing in her last big paycheck before she has a baby, has little to do. Her supposed romance with the hunky god is limited to a handful of flirtatious scenes but nothing that will get anyone’s heart rate up.

The ensemble of warriors that fight by Thor’s side, all of whom are interchangeable and easily discarded, is particularly troublesome. There is mention early on of Jaimie Alexander’s honored place as a woman in the army, but this hardly a consolation for a cardboard cutout character who serves no purpose in the story. And why, if everyone on Asgard talks in a British accent, is the only Asian (Tadanobu Asano) on the planet relegated to speaking monosyllabic Engrish? Similarly, Idris Elba, a black actor, spends the whole movie grunting and snarling. That these characters are included at all only serves as a reminder that all the heroics in the film are carried out by our dashing, blonde-haired, blue-eyed star.

Thor is not an especially bad movie but it makes no effort to surprise us. I have no problem with a movie of this kind featuring a formulaic or familiar story, but when the motions of the plot can be seen from the opening scenes the result is tedium. Escapism entertainment is one thing, but one feels trapped by Thor’s predetermined plotline.

No doubt the film will do well at the box office; saturation marketing ensures that much. But how much longer can studios expect audiences to plop down cash to see these costumed heroes without offering anything new? When I sit down to watch a movie, I’d like to be told a story, not sold a product.

- Steve Avigliano, 5/8/11

REVIEW: No Strings Attached

No Strings Attached (2011): Dir. Ivan Reitman. Written by Elizabeth Merriwether. Starring Ashton Kutcher, Natalie Portman, Kevin Kline, Jake Johnson, Chris 'Ludacris' Bridges and Lake Bell. Rated R (sexual content, language and some drug material). Running time: 110 minutes.

2 stars (out of four)

I wonder, how did the script of No Strings Attached describe its leads? “Enter Adam, an attractive young man who looks and acts exactly like Ashton Kutcher.” Or maybe: “Emma is a beautiful young woman who, if we’re lucky, looks and acts exactly like Natalie Portman.” The movie seems to have been constructed around the knowledge that two likable stars would fill these roles, which allows the filmmakers to forgo the arduous process of creating interesting and believable characters. We come to the movie already prepared to like these people because the trailers and posters have informed us who plays them, a trick that works for No Strings Attached more than it should.

Adam (Kutcher) and Emma (Portman) are not quite friends at the beginning of the film. They have had a few awkward encounters in their youths, including a humorous failed seduction by Adam at summer camp and a chance reunion at a college party years later. From the start, Adam clearly likes her. And who wouldn’t? She shows up to a pajama-themed frat party wearing long johns and still manages to look good.

Emma decides to follow up this second encounter by inviting Adam to her father’s funeral the next morning. The funeral scene, the last of a brief prologue, opens the door for a decidedly darker sense of humor than the movie continues with afterward. Think for a moment though about what kind of girl would party the night before her father is buried and then invite a more-or-less stranger to the services. That girl probably wouldn’t look or act anything like Natalie Portman. But never mind that. The opening scenes lay down the groundwork for characterization that the rest of the film largely ignores. Never again do we see these morbid tendencies from Emma, nor does Adam ever resemble anything close to the goofy frat guy he is in the movie’s second scene.

In the present day, they meet once more and possibly feel a spark so they exchange numbers. Adam soon breaks up with his current girlfriend and has a bad night of drunken phones calls that leads him to Emma’s apartment the next morning. From here they decide to embark on a relationship their friends tell them is impossible: to have casual sex without ever allowing romance to enter the equation.

To pad this rather weak premise, No Strings Attached is filled with supporting performances, perhaps even crowded with them. Adam’s buddies (Jake Johnson and Chris ‘Ludacris’ Bridges) give him the requisite “guy advice” and Emma’s apartment-mates (The Office’s Mindy Kaling, Greta Gerwig and Guy Branum) take their turns ogling Adam and envying her new fling. The best of these actors is Jake Johnson, who has enough charm to make an otherwise forgettable role funny. Ludacris too gets some chuckles, though the strangeness of him even being in this movie might have a lot to do with that.

Then there is Adam’s father (played by Kevin Kline), a one-time TV celebrity who starts sleeping with Adam’s ex (Ophelia Lovibond). These scenes strive for comedy but consistently fail, though fault does not lie with Kline or Lovibond. Too often, these goofy scenes try to hang real emotions on their characters, resulting in an uneven tone.

Despite the overabundance of side characters, attention never strays from Adam and Emma for very long. Unfortunately, their characters are almost entirely defined by their relationship. Adam hopes for romance and so he is painted as the emotional and considerate Nice Guy. Emma prefers to keep her distance from such intimacy and is an Independent Woman. Their jobs are typical for a movie of this kind and serve little purpose other than to supply potential romantic rivals. Emma works at a hospital where an improbably rugged doctor-in-training (Ben Lawson) shows some interest in her, and Adam is a production assistant for a Glee-type show with aspirations of becoming a writer. Also on the set of Adam’s show is Lake Bell, whose foul-mouthed turn as a neurotic co-worker obsessed with Adam deserves more screen time than she gets.

The comedy in No Strings Attached is hit or miss and the movie is better at crafting cute moments than it is funny ones. The movie elicits a fair amount of smiles but no real laughs. This is really only a problem in Kline’s scenes as the father, which go for the laughs and fall short. For the most part, however, the movie is content to be a middle-of-the-road romantic comedy made up of recycled parts. That Ivan Reitman, who once upon a time made Ghostbusters, directed this movie is a little disconcerting, but as an entry in the romantic comedy genre, there has been much worse than No Strings Attached.

Strip away the side characters and meager plot, and you have the one element that every romantic comedy lives or dies on: the chemistry between its leads. The chemistry between Kutcher and Portman is hardly sizzling, but they were cast for a reason. More often than the movie deserves, the likeability of its actors keeps the production afloat. Their characters' relationship doesn’t have enough substance to get us really rooting for them, but there is a certain comfort in seeing two nice, attractive people get together on screen. For a movie with such modest ambitions as No Strings Attached, that seems to be enough.

- Steve Avigliano, 1/23/11

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