Black Swan

     Just saw the incredible movie, Black Swan. I love dark thrillers and I love ballet–this was the perfect combination of both.

It was a pleasure to see it in the theater, on the big screen. Absolutely beautiful–the ballet, the music, the actors, the costumes, everything. And yet it was so taut, it kept me on the edge of my seat. Darren Aronofsky, who directed The Wrestler, has followed it up with this film; both manage to capture extreme physicality along with almost unbearable pathos and emotion. This film will surely be up for some Academy Awards.

  The movie brought to mind the sad true life of Zelda, wife of F. Scott Fitzgerald. She was married to a marvelous, successful author. They had a little girl. They lived a life of gaiety and parties in Europe. But Zelda was insane. It really started to manifest when, at an advanced age, she decided to become a professional ballerina, neglecting her family to practice fourteen hours a day. She died in a mental institution. Her husband, Scottie, died of a heart attack (a broken heart?) at the age of 44.

Black Swan is a cautionary tale for all artists, including writers. The pursuit of perfection can drive one insane. Life requires balance.


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