Two hours prior to seeing “Black Swan,” I had decided to write a semi-traditional “Welcome Back to Northwestern, You Filthy Animals” column, in which I would sarcastically degrade (in typical Steve fashion) various majors and concentrations until I realized I should get to a point and wish everyone happy settling. In fact, here’s how the column was supposed to start:
I’m sure you’ve all heard the saying, “This is not real life.” And if you haven’t heard it, then obviously you have spent too much time at NU, where real life is constantly kicking your ass. I say “your” rather than “our” because I just spent four months in a place world-renowned for its 2-5 p.m. siestas and for sustaining an impressively unproductive lifestyle. (Did I have to mention Barcelona by name or did you already know?) “I’m not even mad – that’s amazing!”
Despite my feeble and frankly unnecessary attempts to exclude “Anchorman” quotes from this column, I would like to take this opportunity to welcome all of us back to NU: Welcome back to reality? (in “I’m Ron Burgundy?” tone) Yes, even you bio, chem, orgo, biochem, orgochem biorgochem – I can’t keep all your concentrations straight! – majors who compound more time in the lab than actual lab rats. Yes, even you engineers who generate more complaints (possibly justifiably, I’m still not sure) about problem sets than the rest of the world generates about anything. And yes, even you econ majors who somehow schedule three-class-two-day-weeks and still are on track to graduate on time. (This might be a description of my previous spring quarter. Don’t hate the player.)
[Insert dramatic 180-degree statement of well-wishing here.]
However, all this went out the window once I stepped foot in the theater three hours ago. I was told that “Black Swan” is an atypical chick-flick psycho-thriller that chronicles the trials and tribulations of a ballerina (Natalie Portman) who scores the lead role in “Swan Lake.” This description is 100 percent accurate. Still, tonight was supposed to be a bro-night – four bros chilling in the back row disregarding the ballet focus and commenting on how hot Portman and Mila Kunis’s sex scene was (And it was almost pornographically hot. Not that I have that frame of reference or anything). But after the first awkward moment between Portman and her mother, I recognized the only comment I would be making is a wide-eyed “WHAT THE @&%$!” and tension-resultant variations like “Somebody hold me” and “I just soiled myself and the neighboring two seats” – one of which was not empty. “Sorry bro.”
According to one critic on RottenTomatoes.com, “Black Swan” is “a beautifully shot but aggressively menacing film that is at turns irresistibly sumptuous and hide-your-eyes-behind-your-hands disturbing.” Perfect description. And according to one YouTube trailer comment, “B**** is turning into a swan!” Also a perfect description. She gradually does make the transformation, but it goes deeper than that. I was so displaced I actually felt like I was becoming the black swan with Nat-Port – the film is that gripping. I am still confused about who I am and why I will be transfixed for weeks. For these reasons, I politely request (minus quest plus quire) that you pay the ungodly movie ticket price at Evanston’s Century 18 and have your mind blown. (I could be convinced to pay for the massage – happy ending not included – that you will need as a result of the tense, beautifully dark, sick, twisted soundtrack.)
And with that, the column has concluded its dramatic 180 degrees. “Welcome Back to NU, You Black Swans.” Happy unsettling!
Steve Hofmann is a Weinberg junior. He can be reached at [email protected].
