Billy Elliot eat your heart out.

Rating: 8/10 (26 January 2011)

Signature of Afronofsky is his sublime yet controversial camera condensation of total self sacrifice in another masterful, more horror orientated sporting output. Settling on the other end of The Wrestler's steroid pumping, muscle bulging, manly man's movie is the delicate, tender perfectionist Nina; who through a series psychological and wince worthy moments drowns in the less angelic, antonym of her former self. Ambivalence really doesn't get better than this.
The gruelling consummation process of her ordeal is much like Afronofsky's technique. Buy into it and you'll have joined the elemental delight his devotee's bask in, or else it's a sink or swim experience that only leads one other way. Tragically it can still feel something of an experiment to his most assertive fans, when its tendency to become carried away with the visual metaphor feels like a flawed burden in contrast to the head scratchers that dominate and support the majority of the film.
Not acrimonious enough to contend as an equivalent to the malevolent bitterness of Nina's predecessor Beth (a vicious comeback for Winona) but gathers frustration in the boycotting of narrowly missed perfection. What is, without a nail splitting pirouette of a doubt, isn't Natalie Portman's circumventing of a sickly sweet scarlet ballerina image (undeniably helpful though) but the gradual shattering of her once pure demeanour to raw, savage precision, devoid of imperfect acting.
She fits into the rare category of actually being born to play a role, uproar hopefully would persist a minimal Oscar nomination if that is what would subsist, because frankly had she faulted just one scene the entire film could have swan dived its way out of brilliance. A film of the year, no. A performance of the year, you can bet your tutu.