You've all seen it by now. The gorgeous cinematography. The Clint Mansell score, lots of strings, just the way scores should be (oh, shut up, percussions) (or, I hope that's his music. If they pull an
Inception...). The make-y out-y-ness of Mila Kunis and Natalie Portman, two of my favorite young actresses (even though Kunis is still on probabtion for fucking
Max Payne ). The ballerina-iness, a mostly ignored genre in recent years (I like to think it's no coincidence that Natalie Portman's been up for a
Suspiria remake. If they must make one, they could do worse than her). Psychological horror by directors, not for-hire guys, is always the best kind, and this has Darren Aronofsky, bitches.
I present to you, my dears, some highlights.
This made me cringe. As
this guy said, she's splintering. Oh, dear.
Why must all movies about the mental disintegration/torture of idealistic young women involve heartbreaking and uncomfortable (what might be, because I doubt Aronofsky would just throw in some random bit of fanservice. I mean, he must have some point to it, yes?) female masturbation?
Mulholland Dr. did it, at the top of my head. That could be the only example. Never mind.
This is cool.
This freaks me the fuck out.
In conclusion, poor Natalie Portman.
Also in it, Barbara Hershey, Winona Ryder. I have something to live for again.
This made me cringe. As this guy said, she's splintering. Oh, dear.
Why must all movies about the mental disintegration/torture of idealistic young women involve heartbreaking and uncomfortable (what might be, because I doubt Aronofsky would just throw in some random bit of fanservice. I mean, he must have some point to it, yes?) female masturbation? Mulholland Dr. did it, at the top of my head. That could be the only example. Never mind.
This is cool.
This freaks me the fuck out.