SPOILERS AHEAD
Ballet and the gothic have quite a lot in common: they both originated in Italy, as all good things seem to; they both desire to evoke emotion; and they seem to have perfectly intertwined in Darren Aronofsky’s (pretty controversial) masterpiece, Black Swan. Whilst on the surface this just seems like a psychological thriller, if you pay attention you’ll find a million and one different features of the gothic implemented to build up the terror. And it certainly worked— I’ve never been more on edge.
CHARACTER
Whilst Nina Sayers is the main character of Black Swan, there are two other characters in this film who play key roles in bringing to life it’s gothic elements: Lily, Nina’s rival; and Thomas Leroy, the choreographer behind it all. All three of them fall into at least one traditional gothic role. Nina and Lily occupy each end of the Madonna-Whore dichotomy, respectively. With her childlike innocence, pristine appearance, and light colour-scheme, Nina very much contrasts the open sexuality, freedom, and darker palette of Lily. Whilst this white swan-black swan contrast may seem a little on the nose, it fits perfectly into a major gothic technique: women as archetypes. The overt differences between either end of the spectrum makes it all the more shocking when Nina finally succumbs to the black swan and is transformed into what is known as the monstrous feminine. This subverts all traditional gothic expectations of women, who (during the peak days of gothic and even now, to an extent) were expected to be docile creatures, and challenges the viewer. Fear of female sexuality is prevalent throughout much of the gothic. As this is a trait attributed to the ‘black swans’ in the film, rather than the innocent Odette that Nina originally is, this is another genre trope found within the film. Nina’s sexual awakening (caused in force by the practical workplace harassment she’s subjected to by Thomas) coincides with her descent into madness; a punishment of female sexuality typical of gothic novels, such as Dracula. One of the symptoms of this insanity is the uncanny double; or the doppelgänger. Most famously discussed by Freud, this explores the idea of coming across a darker copy of ourselves. Several times within the film, Nina comes face to face with a slightly different version of herself— in corridors, in bed, and finally in her dressing room, just before she crosses that final threshold. The use of this gothic trope helps in creating that horrible sense of unease that runs throughout, as the audience struggles to decipher between what is real and what is in Nina’s mind. Of course, her loss of grip on reality can truly be attributed to her dance coach. Thomas continually pushes her to extremes throughout the film, taking advantage of her desire for greatness and stripping her of that purity. Gothic fiction can often be read through the lens of social criticism; particularly because of the archetype of the aristocrat preying on the vulnerable woman. Whilst Thomas is not a 19th century noble with a castle, and Nina is not a young Victorian girl in a white gown, there’s no denying the unbalanced power dynamic between them. This again adds to the sense of growing unease, as their relationship unfolds, and Nina unfolds with it.
VISUAL
A lot of Nina’s journey is shown rather than told to us. The light vs dark motif that I mentioned in the previous paragraph is the most obvious example of that. Visually personifying the gothic battle between good and evil, Nina’s monstrous transformation into the perfect black swan allows the audience to be enraptured by her succumbing to the darkness within. Yet the darkness also seems to surround her. Whilst it’s no European castle, the barren greyness of the dance studio builds up a sense of total isolation and claustrophobia; entrapment. It is easy for one to imagine going mad in an empty place like that. And go mad is exactly what Nina does. Visions follow her everywhere: walking past herself in an empty corridor, her mother’s paintings coming to life, even sleeping with a girl who’s not even there. We as the audience experience all of these things with her, unsure of whether what we are seeing is objective reality, or Nina’s warped perception of it. The use of blood is another gothic trope. Probably most prominent in Nina’s grotesque but horrifying transformation, and the bizarre events in the dressing room that precede it, the blood is clearly an allegory. Nina has finally achieved perfection, at the cost of her own humanity. The literal lifeblood seeping out of her couldn’t be more representative of that.
EMOTION
The point I keep coming back to: Black Swan makes you feel something. Whether it’s anger about the fact Aronofsky stole half the premise from a different film, or plain abject horror as Nina peels away her human form and lets out the monster inside. The gothic nature of the film creates a very intense emotion. The reduced level of consciousness, and the accompanying lack of differentiation between real and fake, steadily builds up the fear throughout. And by the end, you’re captivated by the dance of Odile. You’ve been spellbound. The gothic doesn’t just terrify; it entrances. And that is especially easy through the medium of dance— easily the most beautiful of all the performance arts.
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