Portman toils slavishly to realize Aronofsky's mad vision. It isn't her fault that, despite Black Swan's visual splendor and bursts of grand guignol excess, this emotionally inert movie never does grow wings.. There's a delirium that runs through Black Swan, a sense of stress and anguish and mad momentum, that's both exhilarating and terrifying.. A ballet movie so majestically lurid it almost creates its own genre; a backstage melodrama set in a dark hall of mirrors.. Taken in the too-much-is-ne...
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