Black Swa-uncomfortable

by Caton McKenna


I am going a little bit crazy.

Instead of my to-do list (thanks getting smaller, I just keep adding more and more stuff. Confession: I am also guilty of  putting stuff on my to-do list that I’ve already done just to cross it off.

Anyways, because I was getting cabin fever yesterday, I decided to go to kickboxing and then meet my roommate Paulette to watch Black Swan.

The first bad idea was going to see a movie directly after an intense workout. I was gross and sweaty and also ready to puke. Kickboxing kicked my ass.

The second bad idea was our movie choice: Black Swan.

Let me give you a really good review of this film:

Don’t see it.

No JK, still see it, but be prepared…it’s really fucking weird.

The movie parallels the ballet Swan Lake..which is the performance that Mila and Natalie are dancing in as part of the NY Ballet Company. PS- If you know me, you know that I’m on a first name basis with all celebrities.

Basically, in the ballet, there is a virginal “white swan” who falls in love with a prince. *Gag me* but then the prince gets seduced by the evil twin, the “black swan.” The prince falls in love with this way hotter bird or broad if you will, and the white swan kills herself because she’s so sad.

The same thing happens with this dancer “Nina,” once a virginal white swan, who gradually embodies the black swan through her interactions with Mila’s darker character.

Nina struggles with the stresses of being a principal character and becomes self-mutilating. Those scenes are pretty graphic.

Nina also experiences several hallucinations, is most likely bulemic and begins to experiment with her sexuality throughout the movie.

All of this craziness combines to create a roller-coaster of reality and non-reality. I felt like I was going as crazy as Nina throughout the film.

Like Nina, I wanted to kill myself after it was all done, because it was just so effing weird.

The movie is basically 2 hours of being uncomfortable, read: BLACK SWA-UNCOMFORTABLE.

What made it more uncomfortable was sitting next to an 80 year-old woman (by herself) who gasped more at the lesbian love scene than the scenes where Natalie Portman pulled off her own skin.

It’s possible to note that I could have also felt discomfort from this older woman knowing that she is probably a glimpse at my future.

Eventually, I will be the 80-year old woman gasping at near-pornographic scenes all by my lonesome in a movie theater.