'A Rare Pleasure': Why Black Swan Is My Feel-Good Film

The latest in our series in which writers explain their comfort films: a tribute to Darren Aronofsky's dark and unusual nightmare of satisfying ballet, Black Swan. In early 2011, some time after its home video release, I sat down with my mother to watch what she had heard was the 'new ballet film' by Darren Aronofsky. I was 12, practicing after-school hours to become a professional dancer. With no preamble, knowing little of his work

In early 2011, not long after the film was released on home video, I sat down with my mother to watch what she had heard was a "new ballet film" by Darren Aronofsky. I was 12 years old and spent school nights training to be a professional dancer. Without further ado, knowing little of the ballet and pointe work that won Natalie Portman her Best Actress Oscar, we pressed play on Black Swan.

Long before Brendan Fraser sat on the couch and the numerous guest houses of Mother! With a companion piece, Aronofsky upped the ante to follow his heavy-handed hero, the wrestler. Watching Nina Sayers' (Portman) intense physical tests and her sexual awakening, with my mother by my side, I was understandably disturbed. At this point in my teenage years, I thought Jumanji was a horror movie. Like the wounded bird in the movie, I was introduced to a darkness I did not understand. And somehow I could not get enough. Why did it feel so good?

In the years since, I've returned to Black Swan in search of the same thrills and thrills. My interest in it deepens with each viewing. Pale pink and soft powder blue, Nina's cozy sweaters and pants, even Barbara Hershey's suffocating presence, it's all an unexpected comfort.

Almost enclosed in its own world, Black Swan is strangely comforting. It is a retreat into the secluded private life of an artist committed to only one thing. For Nina, there's only room for ballet, and for the duration of the film, I'm drunk too. It is an obsessive story told in tight close-ups and staged in tight spaces. Nina spends her time on the fence from the subway to her apartment, where she lives with her mother, Erica (Hershey). Even in the outside world—sunless New York City—he walks down the street under scaffolding. His only sky, the roof of Lincoln Center.

A longtime member of the company's ballet troupe, Nina's dedication has not gone unnoticed—brushing her hair and tucking her into bed as her mother reminds her every night (Nina's baby bedroom is perhaps the scariest part of Black Swan). When artistic director Thomas (Vincent Castle) announces that prima ballerina Beth - Winona Ryder's scene as a bad drunk on the hill - is stepping down, Nina is desperate to take her place. Like All About Eve and Showgirls, it has been released in both old and new versions. The company will open its season with a version of Thomas Swan Lake. His plans are simple: "Take it down, make it visceral and real."

This is easier said than done for Nina, who after a stolen kiss with Thomas in the office elects herself Swan Queen. To her surprise, he bites her lip—an uncharacteristically cheeky gesture from a virginal ballerina apparently unsuited to the lead role. In training, Nina shows her strictness with every Arab who is like a white swan. However, her Black Swan lacks edge, something friendly rival Lily - played by Mila Kunis Bacchani - makes up for with Bill.

With Lily as her liberated doppelgänger, the sexually repressed Nina invites the darkness into her life, hoping to bring her closer to the vampire Thomas calls her. Sometimes he is seduced by his threatening sparks in others. On the street, in the studio, on him in the bathtub. In the subway window, I see an evil smile pass for a moment on her reflected face and wonder if I'm seeing things too. With my grip on the bar loosened, it feels good to surrender to a vague, unstable nightmare. I enjoy every rewatch because Black Swan still feels dangerous.

Portman's commitment to the role, and the joy of watching her, is a reminder of ballet's conundrum: an elegance conditioned on enduring intense physical pain. It's not just that ballet is officially brutal, it's also a form of cruelty to watch. Black Swan gets it right. With its original horrors, this film is a rare treat, much like a trip to the ballet but at a fraction of the cost.

When Nina finally transforms into Black Swan, she falls on stage. Dive into a hidden mattress at the back of the set. He's still holding his breath, barely able to speak, "I felt it, great." Nina is finally satisfied with herself. "It was great," he concludes of his swan song. With each rewatch, which still somehow keeps me on my toes, I find myself agreeing with him.