The Black Swan

I had the craziest dream last night about a girl who has turned into a swan, but her prince falls for the wrong girl and she kills herself.

I saw the craziest movie few nights ago about a girl who wants to be a swan queen, but she suffers from – schizophrenia.

Black Swan is wrong on so many levels I’m having a hard time deciding where to begin. The very premise of the movie is just plain ridiculous. A ballerina (and she is the best ballerina in the company) is perfectly suited for the white swan, but not black – her black swan is uninspired because of her inhibitions. The idea is ridiculous. Should you know anything about ballet you will know that it’s not much like acting, despite both arts being performed on a stage – that’s pretty much all they have in common in fact. Yes, you can feel better or worse in a certain role, but if you made it to be principal ballerina of a New York City ballet, then the premise that your “black swan sucks” to loosely quote Vincent Cassell is a joke. She is either as good as a principal ballerina is supposed to be in such a company or ... no there is no other explanation. In ballet there are no roundabouts, no easy ways, no looking through your fingers, if you make it that far it means you’re worthy of it. And you most certainly can dance the black swan. The role itself is not that demanding at all, there are ballets that are far more difficult and interesting, but the black swan has a very movie – friendly story, besides it must be the only ballet your average movie buff has heard of.

If I put aside common sense and decide to play along with the movie accepting the game that Nina’s white swan is magnificent and her black swan is horrible I still see a lake of problems.
My biggest one being the very portrayal of Nina’s madness. She is not “ballerina crazy” at all, someone check up on her, she is book example schizophrenic!

There are a few nice and subtle lines that gave me hope of her portrayal, but the director deems his viewers to be stupid so he is trying too hard. Ballerinas are seriously mentally disturbed, but not schizophrenic. There is a huge difference in the two. Seriously, check the latest DSM – V.

Aronofsky should have really given us more credit and make the movie little more subtle. He is simply trying too hard. Instead of making a very emotionally scary drama he made something that resembles a bad horror from the 80s, with flat toned music and several cheap thrills.
Ballerina’s are so mentally disturbed that I thought you can’t possibly go wrong there, but hey, once again people surprise me.

I just want to be perfect. Says Nina at one point. And that’s it. That’s what Aronofsky should have taken as a light motive. That is all any ballerina wants at any given time. It’s no longer a wish, she doesn’t just want to be perfect, she needs to be perfect. And you don’t need to tell her that she can’t dance the black swan to send her downwards, you can just tell her that her plié is five millimetres too shallow and there you go... Just getting the role of the swan queen in such a company is already stress enough. One thing you need to know, world of ballet is as cruel as it gets. It’s way scarier than Aronofsky showed it. There are no sleazy directors who want to get in your panties (that’s acting again), no they get into your head. The whole process of training consists of constant and deliberate diminishing of your spirit and creating a perfectly disciplined mind and body. To put it simply, they make you believe you’re no good for anything but you need to be perfect, and perfection is attainable but only through gruelling training. Ballet comes first, ballet comes second, third... last. Nothing but ballet is allowed. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING in your life comes only after ballet, if you truly want to make it.

Nina is constantly alone and feels lonely which is quite silly. It is among people where you feel lonely, when you’re alone, you feel safe.
People mean nothing to you because all you can see when you look at them is how unworthy they are. They have NEVER EVER worked so hard for anything in their lives. They couldn’t even imagine to what extent it goes, and yet they are happy. They are not aware how pathetic they truly are. And that’s what a principal ballerina has to deal with.
There is more than in enough material in a world of ballet to make a truly scary movie. You don’t need imagination to write a story about a disturbed ballerina.

Her alter ego Mila Kunis is all a ballerina cannot be. No ballerina can have a tattoo, let alone a tattoo that covers half of her back, and even more convincing, no ballerina is that happy and carefree. Don’t be silly. That’s why she had to push that part of herself so deep inside and hide it. To truly be a ballerina you need to kill the untroubled teen in you who just wants to have fun. In ballet you cannot have it all. You can only have one thing. In every sense of the way it takes over you.

And every single word someone says can be interpreted against you. Self destruction is a faithful companion. If you’re dancing with someone and the choreographer tells her she did something but but doesn’t say anything to you, in your head it equals him saying you’re a pathetic worthless being and she is such an amazing dancer, she can do things you will never be able to. And it doesn’t only stay in the dance studio, ballerina’s set of mind follows you everywhere. And disables you to trust anyone because no one can say all the right things, no one is capable of saying something you won’t misinterpret. And it disables you to love someone because no matter what they say or do you’ll just end up being hurt. And it disables you to have friends because you can’t stand their care freeness... and that’s why I don’t understand why did Aronofsky felt the need to push Nina into schizophrenia when I am sure she is crazy enough as it is.

Simply, the cycles of good and evil are not that clear apart in ballet. What is evil in the outer world is good in ballet and vice versa. The line between them is not thin; there is basically no line at all...

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I’ve been a very good girl this year. But I still have several things to ask for, well, if possible. I know we haven’t talked since I’ve been seven, but if I remember well you don’t work like that gold fish cheapo, granting only three wishes. Here I can make as many as I want, that’s how it works, right?

First, is it possible for shops and radio stations to stop drilling my brain with Christmas music from the eighties? Seriously. Thank you very much. (Oh dear, still humming “last Christmas I gave you my heart...”)

Now, let me tell you, it’s been a wonderful year. I’ve been a very very good girl. I have been incredibly nice to my friends, I made one man the luckiest man on earth, I made some magnificent changes to my style, which made me so proud of myself, I have been pointing people in the right fashion directions and I have even brought my supermodels dishing to a minimum. I swear, I have!
So, don’t I deserve a thing or two?

You need to know Santa, Christmas gift shopping and receiving dreads me.
Overcrowded stores filled with clueless people who don’t want to be there in the first place and cranky sales people who act like they’ve just pulled you out of a burning car when they actually manage to find the right size and colour for you. Pas pour moi, merci.
All everyone is talking about is Christmas shopping. It simply seems too evasive to me. It’s like that annoying girl you keep running into and keep lying to how you don’t live here anymore or you’re awfully busy, even though the only thing you really need to do in a month’s time is write one article... But seriously, I refuse to hang out with anyone who has about as much style as a tapeworm.
And a very special thorn in my eye are those articles about perfect gifts “for him”, “for her”, “for mother in law”, “for great great grandmother” and for “that distant cousin whose name you no longer remember”.
The chances are if I am not nice to them during year, I don’t call, I don’t hang out often, I never buy them anything, I don’t really fancy them. So, my Christmas gift will be under their tree only because I was raised nicely.
 Christmas gifts always end up being things you would never buy for yourself, things you really didn’t want, and most of the time things you don’t even like. If we would all just stop buying gifts to each other and instead buy gift for ourselves that would have been a much better deal, but I am aware that will not happen, because then you wouldn’t get to pretend you’re nice.
More often than not I am really disappointed with things I get for Christmas. Or other gift – giving occasions, like birthdays. But I do know birthdays are not your responsibility Santa. Though, it’s always the same scenario. I see a nicely wrapped package, get all overly excited, thinking, this is something I’m gonna love. I rip the paper of the package and there it is... biggest disappointment ever. It’s like that moment when you enter a van and the old guy has no candy. You’re thinking wt*? You know the feeling.

So Santa, this time, I want to avoid the awkwardness and that’s why I’m writing with several requests.
Of course the first thing I would wish for is world peace or for people to be nicer to each other, but I am keeping that one for when I enter a beauty contest, so pass.
Other thing is, you could tell people to dress up more. That would be nice. That way I could have much broader circle of friends. Or at least people to go have drinks with.
You could also send me lottery numbers, so that way I could spend the rest of my life shopping. I know people would say, nah, that wouldn’t make anyone happy long term, but they are wrong. Trust me Santa, it would make me happy long term. I am that shallow, and I know all the right places to shop. Do we have a deal?

And please dear Santa, encourage everyone to buy a gift for themselves this year, wrapping it up and putting it under a tree would be a step too far, however.
Oh, and do you also make new year’s decision come true? Or someone else is in charge of that? Well, since I am already writing, if that’s your job or if you know a guy for that, please just tell him to make the next year even more awesome and stylish.

Thank you dear Santa.

Sincerely yours,
            Miss Opinionated

P.S. Please, please don’t forget the lottery numbers!