Black Swan

"Pi," Darren Aronofsky's debut feature, was about a mathematician driven to the brink of madness in his determination to be great. Until the penultimate scene of the film, the viewer is left guessing: would he pursue his talents as far as possible, or choose sanity over greatness?

"Black Swan," Aronofsky's fifth feature, has a similar storyline. This time it's a ballerina, Nina (Natalie Portman), driven to extremes as she attempts to master the lead role in "Swan Lake". But "Black Swan" gives away the game very early: even in the first reel, Nina is experiencing hallucinations. The fact that she's already losing it deprives the film of much of its suspense.

Nina's hallucinations also mean that "Black Swan," which has frequently been referred to as a horror film, isn't frightening in the least. This (easily scared) viewer barely batted an eye at Nina's terrifying visions, because we know they're all in her head. Each morning, she wakes up safe and sound in her bed. Chilling!

The way in which Nina is driven to madness is also problematic. Her director, Thomas (Vincent Cassel), is constantly exhorting Nina to surrender to her passions to play the role of the black swan. Unfortunately, this is all he has to say to her--and all the movie has to say to us.

Thomas is also not above using his status to demonstrate his sexual attraction to Nina. A new member of the company, Lily (Mila Kunis), also seems preoccupied with seducing Nina. Lily is another one-note role, flirting with a carefree giggle in virtually all her scenes. Between Thomas' perversions, Lily's attempts at seduction and other weird sexual moments (like an old man groping himself as he watches Nina), "Black Swan" frequently threatens to become the greatest Cinemax erotic thriller ever.

All of this is unfortunate, because "Black Swan" has some elements of greatness. The film's denouement is a perfect ending to what could have been a classic dark Hollywood tale. Moreover, Aronofsky is an extremely talented director who uses all of the tricks at his disposal. He offers up so many memorable moments, such as: The darkness and speed of the subway appear to transport Nina into another world as she commutes to the theatre. The camera spins from Nina's perspective as she twirls in her "Swan Lake" audition (a conscious imitation of "The Red Shoes," to which this film is much indebted)--until it wobbles and falls with the unexpected entrance of Lily. Nina's face shows a relaxed, post-coital ecstasy after one of her performances.

All too often, though, Aronofsky takes the easy road, jarring the viewer with sudden bizarre images or titillating with masturbation and lesbian sex scenes. He uses too many cheap tricks to make a memorable film.

Toy Story 3

Pixar, the most artistically and commercially successful studio of the past decade, has a 2-part formula for its films. Part one: an emotionally resonant storyline, frequently involving themes of family. Part two: a jaunty adventure tale, often featuring the protagonist struggling to return home. "Up," for example, gave us an old man tragically mourning the loss of his wife--and fleeing a pack of talking dogs.

This juxtaposition continues in "Toy Story 3". The filmmakers have said that the raison d'etre of the movie is to conclude the toys' relationship with Andy, their owner. College-bound, Andy no longer has a need for his toys. But this cold fact is emotionally wrenching for Woody, Buzz and their companions, who have spent their entire "lives" seeking to entertain him.

This is a powerful storyline, but a Pixar movie needs more. To sell tickets and merchandise, they need an adventure that will rope kids in and recoup the studio's investment. So Woody and the toys are donated to Sunnyside, a seemingly idyllic day care center. The toys are excited at the prospect of being played with once more--until they learn that they will be forced by the sinister toy bear Lotso to play with two-year-olds who seem hellbent on breaking them apart.

The Sunnyside storyline has its charms. It's a witty send-up of prison films like "Cool Hand Luke" that features some very funny bits, such as when Buzz is switched to his Spanish-language version and Barbie falls for Ken. But the escape from the prison and return to Andy inevitably involves extended action sequences that grow old. Particularly unnecessary is a scene in which the toys are sent to a landfill. Does anyone really think the "Toy Story" series would end with the characters dying in an incinerator?

This is the trade-off that Pixar has to make: it must placate children to make its films profitable. Hopefully, as its technology becomes cheaper and easier to use, the Pixar staff can use its tremendous talents for characters and storytelling in the service of a truly great film.