Tuesday, 1 February 2011


She dies at the end.
I have just done most people a massive favour, because Black Swan is a sickening and traumatic potassium cyanide of a film. Don't watch it. For those of you that enjoy the sight of raw skin being peeled off a finger, then I am very sorry and feel shameful and malicious. I also suggest that you find help immediately as you are psychopathic, sadistic and terrifying.
After watching the film, I walked out the cinema in a disturbed trance. But I wasn't even disturbed. I was numb. Slowly, disgust crept over me. It wasn't till I had calmly and silently eaten my pizza in Pizza Express that it came back to me. All the horrifying details.
I'm not really sure whether Black Swan is about discovering your darker side, breaking free from the hold of an obsessive mother, exploring your sexuality, or a dangerous struggle for perfection. It is all of these, yet nothing of these.
The acting is good, I think, but I was too distracted by the frequent gore. Gruesome acts such as retracting a feather from a bloody scratch and unsticking webbed toes. The most excruciating moment was the overzealous nail cutting.
It was a weird film. Oh and there was ballet in it too; quite a lot of ballet. But it was overshadowed by pretty much everything else

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