Requiem for a dream ballet

From the moment Nina (Natalie Portman) gets out of bed,she’s reminded of her mission in life. Her toes and feet crackle likesplintering ice as she braces herself for another day in the realm of ballet,an environment dominated by myriad mirrors and an insatiable appetite foryouthful energy. If you could listen to Nina’s psyche, you might hear the sameunnerving sounds the rest of her body makes: Time is running out, opportunitiesare elusive and, even though Nina still lives with her mom (Barbara Hershey)and sleeps in a cotton-candy-pink bedroom full of stuffed animals and aballerina music box, she’s not a child anymore.

In director Darren Aronofsky’s electrifying shocker “BlackSwan,” Nina will take the express train to maturity, courtesy of the lecherousslave driver of a director Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel), a friendly new dancernamed Lily (Mila Kunis) who may or may not be a rival in disguise and a formerprima ballerina (Winona Ryder) who is drunkenly tumbling down the shame spiral.The transformation into womanhood will take a few unexpected turns, however, asNina allows paranoia, sexual confusion and a swarm of insecurities to send herinto a warped wonderland in which all her bad dreams seem to be coming true ona regular basis.

Aronofsky established himself as a director to watch morethan 10 years ago, with the one-two punch of “Pi” and “Requiem for a Dream,” apair of films in which the real and the surreal combined into bewilderingblurs. He’s up to his old tricks again here, taking Nina’s terror to hallucinatory— some will say hysterical — heights by using all those merciless mirrors asweapons and magnifying minor details until they become unnerving. Throughout“Swan,” reflections turn out to be deceptions and much of what initially seemssafe or innocent is usually revealed to be ugly or threatening. (Fingernailclipping has never before been so unnerving.)

As Nina prepares to play both the gentle White Swan and themalicious Black Swan in her company’s production of “Swan Lake,” Thomas usesher fervent dedication to her art as a weapon against her, continuallycomparing Nina’s passionless precision and well-practiced grace to Lily’slooser, lustier movements. “You could be brilliant,” he brays at Nina, “butyou’re a coward.”

That’s not likely to be said of Portman, however. In herbest roles, she’s always been exceptionally good at expressing the yearning andconfusion of a young woman looking for guidance. In “Swan,” she first amplifiesthat quality and then slowly, painfully turns it inside out, spilling all ofNina’s secrets and long-suppressed desires into a magnificently messy symphonyof self-destruction.

She’s surrounded by sensational turns from Kunis, who turnsLily into a sexually charged cipher whose motives are always murky, and Cassel,splendidly walking the thin line between encouraging mentor and heartless bully.Hershey rips into her juiciest part in years, conjuring up an almost maniacalmom whose sunny supportiveness hides a shadowy side might be even morefrightening than Nina’s.

If you haven’t worked in the theater, it might be difficultto comprehend the lengths to which some performers will go to have thatbreakthrough moment in which they feel they’ve truly captured the characterthey’re playing or absorbed the emotions they need to make the portrayal work.But Aronofsky and Portman understand the process perfectly. Nina’s obsessionwith mastering her dual role is terrifying, but it’s also going to seemhauntingly familiar to many people who’ve spent time in the arts. People losetheir senses in the limelight all the time, although rarely in such a wickedlyentertaining way as Nina does in “Black Swan.”