Darren Aronofsky’s magnificent Black Swan feels and plays more like an exquisitely choreographed cinematic ballet than a conventional film. The director has found in the literal and symbolic story of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake the perfect context to depict the tragic unraveling of a psychologically fragile dancer in the pressure-cooker world of ballet, exploring themes of unfettered narcissism, the pursuit of perfection, self-harm, competition and rivalry, impossible ideals, and developmental arrest.

It’s the hope of every aspiring ballerina – to dance the coveted Odette/Odile roles in Swan Lake. Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman) is no exception. The young dancer in the corps de ballet of an unnamed New York ballet company literally dreams about it. With principal dancer Beth Macintyre (Winona Ryder) set to retire, a new soloist is needed for the company’s new interpretation of the classic ballet.

The ballet tells the literal story of the innocent princess Odette who is transformed into a white swan by the sorcerer Rothbart. She meets Siegfried whose love is the only thing that can lift Rothbart’s curse. Unfortunately, Siegfried is deceived by the evil Odile, the black swan, masquerading as Odette. His seduction seals Odette’s fate. On a symbolic level, it doesn’t take a psychiatrist to understand these characters represent the two faces of an individual: the light and the dark selves, the innocent and the knowing, the virgin and the siren.

Dancing Odette and Odile is no cakewalk for even the most talented and resilient of ballerinas. When the mentally wobbly Nina wins the dual role, she struggles to keep a grip on her sanity under the weight of rehearsals, self-obsession, and the need for perfection. Company irector/choreographer Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel) knows she can play Odette to perfection, but doubts Nina has the womanly oomph to portray Odile. If Nina can’t play Odile, Thomas’ ballet will lack the dramatic conflict and tension between opposites needed to mesmerize the audience.

The arrival of new dancer Lily (Mila Kunis) adds to the turmoil. Lily’s natural ability to embody Odile – noted and appreciated by Thomas – threatens Nina. The unusual friendship/rivalry between these two dancers leads Nina into the adult world, where she explores her darker, more self-destructive side (her Odile self).

Aronofsky conceives Nina as a child-woman (her Odette self) trapped in perpetual adolescence. Contriving to keep her there is her grasping mother Erica Sayers (Barbara Hershey) with whom she still lives. Nina’s bedroom looks like that of a little girl, complete with stuffed animals and a music box with – what else – a pink, plastic ballerina twirling to the tinkling sounds of the Swan Lake theme. Because Nina’s fear of maturity, with all it implies, is so painful as to be avoided at all costs, she retreats into narcissism, perfectionism, self-obsession, scratching herself raw, and inducing vomiting, to evade that inevitable rite-of-passage called womanhood. Further compounding her fear is the fate of the broken and discarded Beth, who becomes the mirror in which Nina sees her future reflected.

Portman represents the beating heart of Black Swan. She breathes life into the vulnerable Nina with a tour-de-force performance that reaches through the screen and grabs the audience by the throat. As Nina cracks, she experiences visual and auditory hallucinations that blur the line between the real and the factitious. It’s impossible for most viewers not to be affected by her psychic free fall.

Portman isn’t alone in delivering an exceptional performance. Kunis is perfectly cast as Lily, the sensual, free-spirit who is as fluid and sexually aware as Nina is unbending and innocent. Cassel’s Thomas is a sexually manipulative Svengali, so determined to wrest a performance out of Nina that he resorts to cold-blooded seduction to do it. And Hershey portrays with conviction a disappointed woman trying to recapture her thwarted dancing ambitions through her unbalanced daughter.

And pulling it all together is Aronofsky, who achieves an almost perfect coordination of story, acting, dizzying and electrifying photography, and an inspired soundtrack (consisting of excerpts from Tchaikovsky’s and original music by Clint Mansell), giving us one of the best films of 2010, and arguably, the most exhilarating of them all.

Professional dancers tend to be motivated by their love of dance. Self-expression, the joy of movement, and the development of their artistry – these are the rewards they seek. What drives Nina?  She seems to find no joy or pleasure in dance. Dancing for her is a whip she uses to lash herself. So what does she want, really?  “To be perfect,” she says. In the end, she realizes her goal. She becomes not an artist, but a martyr to the cause of perfection.

(Released by Fox Searchlight Pictures and rated "R" for strong sexual content, disturbing violent images, language and some drug use.)

Review also posted at www.MovieBuffs.com.