A master director with a dark streak and a fascination for dark human obsessions. In this sense, he can be said to be the Jewish intellectual version of Shinya Tsukamoto,
although obviously this comparison should be taken with a grain of salt. He has a natural talent for making every aspect of a movie work together as a whole in order to
express his characters' emotions, obsessions and passions. From the rich, varied and carefully selected cinematography techniques, to the editing, the framing, the meticulous
pacing, colors, sounds, the details included in the sets, as well as the casting and direction, and even sacrificing reality when needed, dipping into surrealism when it is
called for. All of these are chosen carefully to express what Aronofsky wants to say about his characters. Minor flaws include the feeling of over-belaboring his points simply
because all of the details point to the same focused message, and there is a tendency in some scenes to slip over the border into excess luridness or melodrama, especially in
his climaxes which usually keep going where they should stop. Interestingly, his first relatively conventional movie (The Wrestler) was made after his most purely surreal
movie (The Fountain) flopped. And even The Wrestler explored the depths of humanity in its lowest forms with superb performances and direction. More recently, however, he has
veered towards warped re-interpretations of Biblical stories by way of Vegan misanthropy, resulting in surprisingly terrible movies.
Like a ballet, this movie revels in melodramatic excess and show-off bravura, but retains its humanistic passion and discipline. Aronofsky does it again, in a flawed package
this time, but with undeniable mastery of his art, combining cinematography, surrealism, horror, framing, sound, and meticulous pacing to build a crescendo of human insanity.
In this case, the insanity belongs to a ballerina desperate for perfection and acceptance, acted by Natalie Portman in an astounding performance. Her artistic director (Cassel),
like Aronofsky, casts her in Swan Lake in what must have been an inspiration after seeing a flash of a possibly devastating black swan inside her good-girl, virginal psyche.
Because of this decision, Portman trained for months in ballet, and gives every scene and performance her utmost, which is surprisingly intense and detailed. Her ex-ballerina
mother suffocates her and tries to live her missing life through her, and her mind starts to crack under all the pressure. This is where the surrealism comes in, and for a while
I kept thinking that I've seen this kind of thing done better in movies like Repulsion. For most of the running time, I both marveled at the craftsmanship, was fascinated by
the movie, and sighed at the occasional bad choices, Aronofsky showing gratuitous nasty ballet wounds, perverts on the train, lurid violence, and even a useless lesbian scene,
and going for literal surrealism where subtlety was needed. But then the climax happens and you won't know what hit you, the movie in all its aspects along with Portman and
Aronofsky meeting the melodramatic ballet head on, and releasing their absurdly black swan onto the world in an insane need to perfect and release even their dark and pointlessly
negative obsessions. This movie lives only for its final performance, and you will just have to endure the punishing training beforehand to get to see it.
This ambitious third movie from Aronofsky deals with death and how it affects us as human beings on all levels, whether it is psychological, metaphysical, or religious,
how it drives us, and how we may come to terms with it. This movie flopped, and audiences are still stupidly trying to figure out the movie as if it were a narrative,
arguing over which of the three stories are the reality and how they may intertwine into a solid linear narrative. The simple answer is that none of them are real, and
only the characters of Tom and his wife and their emotions are real. At the obvious center is Tom as a scientist working to find a cure for cancer in a research lab
using obscure remedies, driven by his sick and dying wife, coming close to a solution but never a full one. There is no need for even this research to be real or even
to find a solution, because what is important is his state of mind, how he is driven to achieve, how he loves, how he deals with his dying wife, how he tries to find
meaning and acceptance of death, and how death can cause transcendence and rebirth. In two obviously fictional and fantastical alternate realities of Tom as Conquistador
searching for the tree of life in order to save Spain and its queen, and Tom as a new-age spaceman floating in a bubble in space accompanied by a tree on his way to a dying
star, many parallels are drawn in order to help us enter his worried, tortured, fearful and grieving mind and soul. His bravery, his attempts to save his country and his
queen who is also his wife, the fact that these realities are written by his dying wife who is his love and muse, the themes of death provoking awe and rebirth, and life
literally growing out of a dead man's chest, etc. are all obvious parallels, and there are too many details and levels with which this movie can be understood, analyzed
and enjoyed to explain here. And sometimes it's just about the little details, like when he touches fluttering tree tendrils, which is then juxtaposed with gently caressing
the tiny hairs on the back his wife's neck. The ending dives deep into Buddhist ideas of rebirth (although Aronofsky could have easily used Jewish ideas instead), and I could
argue that it is more focused and understandable than 2001 (which was also received with some mixed reviews), and yet it is obvious that audiences have changed since then.
The Fountain explores death, but through the living, and it then transcends death, and that is why the movie is named after the fountain of life.
An intelligent and artsy look into dangerous mathematics, dangerous knowledge, patterns and the stock market. A brilliant man is in search of the formula to the
market, God and general existence, and is hounded and wooed by the expected groups and people, as well as some Kabbalistic Hasidim. On top of it all he has blinding
headaches, paranoia and hallucinations to cope with, leading to a disturbing climax. Themes of genius and madness, and powerful, forbidden and dangerous knowledge
are explored and how they can affect human beings and their interactions with other people. This is Aronofsky's first full-length movie, it is filmed in black
and white and feels like a precociously talented student movie. Intensely fascinating.
Possibly the most emotionally disturbing movie ever made. A devastating, brutal, realistic, involving, empathetic, relentless and sympathetic story about four
drug addicts and the depths to which they sink when their little life dreams go wrong and the drugs take over. Unusually, one of the addicts is an older woman
who starts taking diet pills, and the intense Ellen Burstyn in this role makes the movie very special. Artistic photography, careful use of sound and advanced
filming techniques are all very effectively used to get you into the minds and hearts of the addicts. This intelligent and effective directing, the incredible
uncompromising acting, the relentlessly bleak story, and no exploitative or preachy factors all combine to bring you to your knees and vow a solemn oath never
to touch drugs. I've seen dozens of drug movies with losers making bad choices, and this is the only one that managed to get me into their heads, then rip out
my heart. It's so good, I fear I may traumatize people by recommending it.
Requiem for a Dream
I liked everything Aronofsky did until Noah. 'Noah' was a deeply disappointing travesty; a crash and burn of epic proportions that failed even as a secular movie.
But I assumed it was just a misguided commercial detour and he would be back to creating his usual, much better darker explorations of human nature. Unfortunately,
Noah is nothing compared to this bomb that is offensive and idiotic on so many levels. In the previous movie, he re-interpreted Noah as a fanatical, Vegan/environmentalist,
misanthropic murderer, but at least there was a small ray of light at the end. Here there is no such respite, and in this movie, he tackles nothing short of life, the
universe, God, Adam and everything. Except that the misanthropy and worship of nature we saw in Noah reaches its nadir in this wretched drivel. Superficially, this movie
is about a bad marriage between an older poet and loving young wife, and his constant neglect of her, her feelings and her work on his house, all of which build up
to apocalyptic proportions by way of a home invasion from hell. But, like The Fountain, it's obviously a metaphor. And there is only one interpretation given the
very obvious clues: The poet is 'god' who owns the house (the universe/earth). Except he is nothing without mother nature, and his 'house' is a burnt husk without
her love and her giving of everything she has in order to build a beautiful home. So not only is the 'god' in this movie a clueless, neglectful, cruel and stupid being,
he also depends on a goddess of nature for creation and beauty. She is a partner who does all the work, has most of the power, while he takes all the credit and the
spotlight by writing popular works. Eden is his office. Adam (notice the rib and the sudden appearance of Eve) is a sick man who tramples all over mother's house,
Eve is a total bitch who gets them kicked out of Eden, their children promptly murder each other over a trifle, and the rest of humanity (ALL the evils of civilization
condensed into 30 extreme minutes) rapidly deteriorate into a hellish chaos, ripping apart nature in an endless series of traumas, as well as mother herself. Not to
mention a beautiful baby of nature (Christ) who is promptly killed and cannibalized, just to make sure Catholics are offended as well. So, basically, Aronofsky,
in a fit of self-hating pagan and Vegan naiveté, is telling us that humanity is evil, God is clueless and powerless, and poor nurturing Nature and her love is the only thing
that counts. I now suddenly almost admire Trier's 'Antichrist' (which somehow looks less ridiculous in comparison) that went to the other extreme, portraying woman as
the mother of all evil. I'm tempted to respond with 'Go to hell Aronofsky', and I don't mean that in a religious sense. Hell can be the pretentious stupidity of your
own making. Save your brain and eat some meat for crying out loud.