Black Swan (Aronofsky, 2010)

This film has a solid first half but then goes all over the place. It shoots into the dark and keeps missing me. I didn't care for the teasing of paper-thin themes and lack of follow-up to them, as if each one were a prick of a needle or sonar pings. I got pulled in five different directions without truly going anywhere due to my silent guide that might be blind in one eye. Where are we going, Aronofsky?

This tumble wasn't helped by the excessive horror movie elements and jump scares that feel beneath this production, or the ending that left something to be desired after our irksome dance together. After the Black Swan took flight, I had no clue what flight she was on, but definitely felt pulled over the cliff with her.

In Aronofsky's words, this movie definitely clicked in his head, but not in mine. I find it disappointing that his subjective goal as a director stunted the film from connecting to me as the viewer. Near the end of production, Aronofsky lamented about "all the shots he missed." Alas, I am moping alongside him during our sad dance. If he hadn't missed all those shots, that late barrage of silly scenes could've been avoided. Nina's legs are breaking, and my eyes are rolling.

The overall execution of "Black Swan" is akin to Nina falling in the first act of "Swan Lake." It could have been a dark masterpiece, but lacked the brilliance of clarity. However, I would watch it again for Natalie Portman's performance, the artful presentation, the musical score and the sweet dance choreography.

Road to Perdition (2002, Sam Mendes)

I've heard about it for years, but it was never on TV, and I finally got it from the library. Amid the pile of rentals I'd gotten, the tommy gun that Hanks is carrying on the cover intrigued me more than the others because I generally enjoy mobster flicks. However, after reading the back of the DVD, the last thing I expected was a mob film. It sounded like a drama of some sort with a core relationship between a father and son. I thought Paul Newman was the father, and Tom Hanks was the son, who later had a son of his own. Boy, was I wrong.

The plot boils down to simplicity, but the artful presentation elevates it. Sam Mendes, I presume, was responsible for this elegance. Before long I realized that I was privy to the song and dance that cloaked the bloodstained secrecy of the mob world. One boy's mistake later, and the charade started crumbling apart.

What was left was a revenge story built on family and consequence. I liked how the movie was told by looking into Sullivan's eyes during a chilling car ride, using few words to move the story along in favor of action and tension. As the boy narrator sees it, it could be seen as bonding time between father and son in the face of danger, contrition and ire. There is an enviable moment when the son sticks his head out of the car window as his hair blows in the wind. He is enjoying time with his father that he had never gotten before, even whilst they are on traveling down a path of vengeance. His father isn't a hero, but they both love and need the same things. When those comforts are taken away, the father has his guilt and the boy has a lesson to learn.

Before watching this film, I'd never seen a silent shootout in a rainstorm. The musical score is delicate, and the usage of misdirection (although I have seen it before in Carlito's Way) was done with the same muted brilliance. By its wholesome themes and morals, Road to Perdition was a sweet surprise.