A lot has been written about Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan, both in the mainstream media and even here on TNB. It was an important feature of Matt Baldwin’s “When Stupid People Go To Smart Movies,” and was also mentioned in “Legacy, Lightcycles, and Lady Gaga,” a discussion between Cynthia Hawkins and Gloria Harrison. As it happens, I’ve also tapped Ms. Hawkins, who has become TNB’s resident film expert, for a post about Black Swan. Below you’ll find a conversation she and I recently had about how audiences perceive independent films compared to those built using the more traditional Hollywood model, as well as some questions for you, the TNB reader. Thanks in advance for sharing your time and thoughts with us.

Richard Cox: Black Swan is everything I love in a film. It plays with the nature of reality, with the subjective human experience, and it takes the viewer on a visceral ride that never lets you catch your breath. But based on description alone, it’s not the sort of film you would expect to pull in big audiences. A dark, psychological thriller set in the world of ballet?

Cynthia Hawkins: Add to that the art-house look of it, with its tight shots of what seem to be handheld digital cameras recording the surreal experiences of Nina, and the mere fact that it’s Aronofsky. Even so, Black Swan might be his most accessible film to date. Working with the plot of Swan Lake does at least two mainstream things for him: It produces a traditional story arc and creates suspense (not in what’s going to happen but how).

RC: It’s interesting how much attention is given to Aronofsky’s technique. For me it often feels like a reality-show camera crew is following her every move, which only adds to the authentic feel of the film. And I’m glad that larger audiences are finally being introduced to Aronofsky’s work. I feel like he brings something to movie-making that is increasingly missing: actual, old-fashioned storytelling.

CH: And following her very closely, almost claustrophobically close. There are several scenes in which it feels like we’re stalking Nina with our noses just inches from that tight swirl of her ballerina bun. Yes, actual, old-fashioned storytelling, and more often than not a story born of a character’s internal conflicts. That’s what draws me into Aronofsky films again and again, these intense character studies he’s so good at. And then when you add the “reality-show” effect to something like The Wrestler or Black Swan it ratchets up the levels of voyeurism and complicity.

RC: You’re absolutely right about his films exploring the essence of humanity and the internal conflicts that drive us…and sometimes drive us insane. It’s the same thing that drew me to Aronofsky’s Requiem for a Dream, which has long been one of my favorite films. I enjoy it when stories unnerve me, and when they explore the tapestry of human emotion, extreme or subtle, good or bad. It surprises me how so many films get made that don’t attempt to do so, like many mainstream, bigger budget projects that often seem to contain obligatory over-the-top action and obvious humor. And yet plenty of my friends express almost the opposite opinion, that they enjoy mindlessly entertaining films because they’re looking for an escape from real life.

CH: I can see that, in a way. I suppose this is why I’m such a big fan of blockbusters like Inception or the Abrams Star Trek, films that use their movie magic to transport you someplace you couldn’t necessarily experience otherwise. But then there are the unimaginative mainstream films like Little Fockers and The A-Team, etc. I have this theory that those types of films are appreciated less for their sense of escape and more for the comfort of the “known.” You know the jokes. You know the plots. You know the characters. Everything’s familiar here. Safe.

There’s not a lot to be gained from “safe” though. I always leave movies that invest themselves in complex characters and experiences, dark or otherwise, feeling a little more attuned to the world, like everything’s suddenly more vivid and resonant and meaningful. Sometimes it’s better to tap into that tapestry of human emotion, as you describe it, for better or worse, than to check out from it.

RC: I’m certainly not a snob when it comes to blockbusters. I’ve defended Titanic more than once on TNB, and I’m happy to do it again. I can make a case for nearly any James Cameron or Steven Spielberg film, and regular readers here know you and I are members of an expansive Star Wars fan club. I’m also a huge fan of plenty of comedies like Role Models and Wedding Crashers and even the original Meet the Parents. As a writer it’s easy to say this, but ultimately for me it comes down to the script. I might prefer intense movies about the human experience, but I can enjoy a juvenile comedy if it’s cleverly written. I can get behind a special effects extravaganza if the story works on a basic level. From a sensory standpoint, films can transport you to another world in a way no other medium can, but effects alone don’t cut it. For instance, The Matrix hooked me early and thrilled me in unexpected ways. But the second one was a letdown, and I fell asleep in the third.

So let’s talk about film endings. Blockbuster films seem overwhelmingly to end with the protagonist achieving his desire, so often that for most of us the outcome is usually never in doubt. And yet you and I have both been wildly entertained by films that ended tragically. What do you think makes for a rewarding ending?

CH: Easy. A believable ending. Any ending that stays true to the arc of the story or the character’s progress or the circumstances, whether it’s positive or negative, is going to be a rewarding ending for me.

RC: I think you’ve nailed it. I would add that in films other than comedies I’d also like the ending to be in doubt. Like, I don’t want it to be a given that all will end well, because if it is, what’s the point of telling the story at all?

CH & RC: And now we’d like to ask TNB readers and contributors to offer your own opinions. How do you feel about Hollywood “blockbuster” films versus those produced by independent studios? What sorts of endings work for you? And how do you feel about films that veer toward the dark and artistic and yet appeal to a mainstream audience? We think Black Swan comes close, but what do you think? Can such a film honestly exist?

Thanks again for your time.

This past Christmas I found myself with some time to kill between the morning festivities and the evening hijinks, so I decided to treat myself to a matinee showing of Black Swan, Darren Aronofsky’s newest film. I thought it was a safe choice, as the film had been in general release for a couple of weeks, and theaters were full of new, fluffy holiday fare like Little Fockers and the Jack Black vehicle Gulliver’s Travels (or period pieces like True Grit and The King’s Speech for those without kids). It seemed unlikely there’d be much turnout for a psychosexual drama set in a professional ballet company.

Boy, was I ever wrong.

I arrived a good twenty minutes before show time, and the theater was already half full of people all over the approximate age of sixty, doubtless thinking they were there to see a nice film about ballerinas. I wondered with bemusement how many of them would be blind sided by the much ballyhooed Natalie Portman/Mila Kunis sex scene, and wind up walking out.

Turns out the old folks weren’t the problem. That dubious honor belongs to the extended family who walked in loaded with concession stand snacks just as the coming attractions began rolling and took up the entire row directly behind me. While the rest of the audience sat spellbound this group proceeded to munch, joke, and converse through the film: “What’s going on?” “What is that?” “Hee-hee, I dropped popcorn down my boobs.” “The mom must be poisoning her.” “Did you get it out?” “This is just like that episode of [insert title of asinine reality show here]!”

Black Swan, like all of Aronofsky’s films, is a study in obsession, in this case told entirely from the perspective of Natalie Portman’s character Nina, who I’m fairly certain is in every scene. While it’s less labyrinthine than his earlier film The Fountain, it’s still a tricky, nuanced, and at times breathtakingly beautiful picture, the kind you find yourself thinking about afterwards regardless of whether you liked it or not. It’s the kind of film that demands the viewer engage in a behavior that is increasingly becoming anathema to American audiences: thinking. In short, it’s the exact kind of film that I love, and one that was demonstrably smarter than the jerks sitting behind me.

I tried to be tolerant; really, I did. Christmas Day, goodwill towards men and all that. But few things in day-to-day life raise my ire faster than rude behavior at the theater. I’ve snatched cell phones out of hands and clambered over rows of chairs to confront talkers; heaven help you if you keep kicking the back of my seat. So after forty-five minutes of their babble I could take it no longer. “Really?!” I growled at them, loud enough that the rest of the audience could hear. “You’re going to be THOSE people?”

Not exactly Oscar Wilde, but it got the job done. There wasn’t a peep out of them for the rest of the film, and when it was over they left without a word.

Behavior like this has become more and more pervasive and socially permissible over the last several years, I’ve noticed. I’m not entirely sure why, and I don’t understand it, since as a child I was emphatically taught not to talk in the theater. It’s the principle reason why I (a confessed film junky) hardly ever go to the movies these days, the rising cost of even a matinee ticket being the other.

It’s also part of why my once-gregarious taste in film has become more selective of late. The only big-budget Hollywood movies I recall seeing in the theater during 2010 were Iron Man 2, Inception, and The Social Network, and more and more I find myself eschewing the big studio fare for smaller independents and foreign films. Thanks to the monopolistic stranglehold theater conglomerates like AMC have on the market, I usually have to go of my way to one of the smaller art house venues scattered around town, but I’m not complaining. I’m lucky to live in a city with enough cultural demand for this sort of film that these theaters can stay in business despite the presence of the megaplexes. Many, many others haven’t been so lucky.

I said before that I don’t know exactly why obnoxious behavior in the movies is becoming prolific, but I have a theory: big-budget films are getting stupider, and as a consequence so are the audiences. So many movies released these days are gee-whiz-bang! vehicles of action and special effects that require no engagement from their audience whatsoever. They’re purely passive entertainment, designed to allow the viewer to disconnect for two hours. Movies like these are the filmic equivalent of a Big Mac: tasty, perhaps, and a nice treat from time to time, but ultimately just a mass-produced product of dubious nutritional value. And they’re having just as destructive an effect on our minds as fast food is on our bodies.

Think I’m wrong? Think about how many people you heard say the plot of Inception or the third Pirates of the Caribbean was too complicated to follow. More complex than they needed to be? Perhaps. Too complex to follow? Not at all.

Or, alternately, ask someone at random what they think of silent or black and white films. If, like me, you’re a lover of both mediums, the answer will usually dishearten you.

Consider Casablanca. While not quite the flawless masterpiece it’s often held up to be, it’s still a damn good film, and one that assumes the viewer has pretty good grasp of current world events circa 1941. Aside from a brief (historically inaccurate) opening narration about European refugee paths into Morocco, the film offers no expository history lesson; either you’re informed enough to keep up, or you’re not. I once had to stop the film halfway through showing it to a girlfriend who’d never seen it before to explain why the French police captain played by Claude Rains takes orders from the Nazis. Would a film like this find an audience if it were released today? I doubt it. Those that did show up would probably get bored after ten minutes and start tossing half-chewed Milk Duds at each other.

Because this is what we have now, thanks to all these hyperkinetic special effects extravaganzas, formulaic thrillers, and insipid rom-coms: audiences unable to intellectually engage with more challenging material, who resort to juvenile behavior as a mask for their boredom and unease. Audiences conditioned to accept a movie as an insular experience that provides visual stimulation without provoking critical thought – or, at best, the illusion of critical thought. Why in the hell else would the likes of Michael Bay and Roland Emmerich continue to find employment?

It’s not even generational, either; I snapped at a pair of adults during a showing of Let the Right One In who seemed under the impression that, because the film was in Swedish, it was perfectly fine to talk over it. I’d go so far as to say children these days seem better behaved at the movies than adults do, at least in my experience.

I don’t mean to suggest that there should be an IQ requirement for appreciating a certain kind of film. Far from it; anyone should be welcome to view any film they want, and I’m all in favor of people trying to broaden their perspective. But in a market where more and more movies are being measured solely by their varying degrees of Awesome!, that’s seldom ever the case.

Yes, I’m familiar with the argument, “My day was hard. I just want something I can turn my brain off for and enjoy for two hours.” I get that, and it’s fine – on occasion. But why do you need to go to the theater to do that, especially if your inclination is to act like a hyperactive child when you do? Hours and hours of mindless visual junk food are piped into your TV every night, lots of it for free. So why spend a bunch of money just for the luxury of inconveniencing other people?

I love the movies. I really, really do. Lowbrow, highbrow, classics, current…doesn’t matter. I don’t believe any one type of film is automatically superior to another. Because, at it’s best – and I mean, at it’s very, very best –  moviegoing is the act of gathering with a group of strangers to share a collective dream. I’m just so damned tired of how many movies these days are being described as “Exactly what you’d expect a film about _____ to be, and nothing more.” Why this is considered praise, as it so often seems to be, is beyond my understanding. All that statement says is, “Congratulations on rising to meet an already low bar! Good for you for not trying to excel!”

The hell with that, I say. I want to be challenged. I want to be tantalized. I want my expectations grabbed and subverted. I want to respond with emotion, not apathy. I want to reward my brain, not turn it off. At the risk of sounding like an utter film snob, what I want is to see is a piece of fucking art.

OK, dummies, here’s the deal I’m prepared to make with you: if you don’t like the movie, or don’t “get” it, just…leave. That’s it. Don’t start talking, don’t play on your cell phone or with your Game Boy. Just calmly walk out. No one will judge you for it, since we’re all too busy enjoying the film. Go to the ticket office and ask for your money back. You’re a consumer and the theater is a business like any other, and if you’re not happy with the product you’ve paid for you’ve every right to ask for a refund or an exchange. Odds are good they’ll be playing something else you’d rather see anyways.

But if you do choose to remain, well, consider yourself duly warned.

Gloria Harrison:  My summary of Tron: Legacy is this: it was a visually beautiful, highly entertaining Lady Gaga video.

Cynthia Hawkins:  I like that summary. I think anyone who thinks Tron: Legacy is either a good or bad movie based on its story is missing the point. It’s more than its story. Let me ask you this. What did the first Tron mean to you?

GH: I’m really glad you asked that because I had to do this spiel the other night whilst standing in line. We were getting tickets for Black Swan, and I said how awesome it was that I got to see both movies in the same weekend – which is funny ‘cause could they be more different?

CH:  Exactly!

GH: You know back when Tron came out it targeted my generation. I was very young – 6 or 7 — so it actually targeted those a bit older, but still: the Atari Generation.  The folks before us learned to be leery of technology thanks to campy, cheesy sci-fi – and not so campy or cheesy, Isaac Asimov, etc.  All cautionary tales.  So was Tron, but it was post Star Wars and people had learned what amazing things computers could do, i.e. create worlds on screen.

So it was this fun thing, this weird animal, Tron. It played with the old idea of technology being evil, but it used technology to tell the story in a way that blew everyone’s minds.  Unless I’m mistaken, Tron was the first CGI movie ever, and I, being an Atari kid, was gaga about the graphics because, shit, Pong looked nothing like that. And it was more about possibility than it was about story.  It was so pretty to look at, and it was a bellwether for things to come – not because of the story so much, but because it showed what was about to happen to cinema.  I got that, and older people may not have.

And you?

CH: I was an Atari kid too.  In fact, I was so steeped in it I’d begged my parents to let my little sister and me move it into our room, and we played all the time.  I had to be taken to the doctor for hand cramps.  The first thing the doctor asked me was if I’d been using the Atari joystick.  He knew exactly what was wrong with my hands because the emergence of video games was so prominent and profound at that time.  So of course a movie about being stuck in one both delighted and horrified me.  That’s all I focused on – the look of it and the fact of the characters being trapped inside. I couldn’t tell you anything else about the details of the story because they were irrelevant, really. The look of it, the idea of it, that was the thing.

GH: Totally. I get that it was irrelevant.  Furthermore, I think the plot of this one is irrelevant too. This one did what it set out to do.  It blew us away visually.  And let me rant for a second.

CH:  Okay.  Go.

GH: Why does Avatar (i.e. Dances with Wolves In Space) get an Oscar nom, but Tron: Legacy gets panned?  I had just as good a time watching Tron as I did Avatar.

CH:  Me too.

GH: Furthermore, having seen Black Swan and Tron back to back, I can tell you, I had a much better time watching Tron than I did Black Swan.  Black Swan left me feeling exhausted and horribly uncomfortable, and I left Tron smiling.  Which is the superior movie?

CH: I haven’t seen Black Swan yet, but yes these films have different agendas as to the reaction they want from their audiences. I think people who have been panning Tron: Legacy are doing so because for many years people had panned the original.  One of the problems with Tron was that things were changing so fast in the videogame/computer arena that it looked outdated in a hurry.  But that shouldn’t undercut what it had set out to do in the first place.

GH:  Sure it did. I guess my point is – isn’t having a good time in a movie a good enough criteriacriterion for its value?

CH:  Yes, yes of course.  I think there is, anyway, because I see so many of the films people pan and still enjoy them and value them for what they are nonetheless.  I have complaints about Avatar and Tron: Legacy, but, you know, they were both inventive and entertaining in their own ways.  So there, critics!

GH: I mean, Tron: Legacy is flawed.  Absolutely. For instance WTF was up with that Goblin King/Alex from A Clockwork Orange hybrid guy and Lady Gaga in the middle of the film?

CH:  This would be the scene often highlighted in the film trailer in which Michael Sheen (as hybrid guy) hosts some sort of rave for the “programs.”  I hated Sheen’s character.  He was like the Jar Jar Binks of Tron.

GH: Were you put off at all by the way they made Jeff Bridge’s face younger for his grid character, Clu?

CH:  Yes!  Creepy.  And it might have been okay to do that to him in the Tron world, but they did it for Kevin Flynn in the flashbacks at the beginning of the film as well.  Does Jeff Bridges really look that bad now that he can’t “look young” in those flashbacks?  I don’t think so.

GH: He looked pretty old in his Flynn role, but, I mean, Jeff Bridges is old.

CH: Well, because he was scruffy. They could have used the soft lens a la Barbara Walters or something

GH:  You know, I think every scene he was in (as Flynn) was a great scene.  Some, even powerful.

CH: He makes for a good emotional core in whatever he’s in.

GH: He brought just as much panache and pizzazz to this role as he does any other, and this would not have been the same movie without him. I likely would have hated it.

CH:  I agree.

GH: Even though the guy who played his grown-up son wasn’t half bad. I think that if you took Flynn and Flynn Jr. and Quorra and put them in a whole different movie together, there would be some great chemistry/performances.

CH:  That’s interesting.  What do you think is holding them back as a group here?

GH: I’m not sure what Kosinski’s goal was, but it seems like there were a few conflicting ones:

1. Make it visually beautiful enough to warrant a $15 dollar ticket for 3D

2. Make Jeff Bridges say fun stuff

3. Make it entertaining for a generation of kids who were all born with qwerty keyboards attached to their fingers and who knows every URL available on Youtube

4. Tell a story (but who cares how good that is)

CH:  5. Bring back the lightcycle …

GH:  … and make it way more rad!  Because that was some fun stuff.  I just think there wasn’t enough room in the production for the three leads to do much acting.  It almost felt like a movie with disparate parts that was cobbled together, and it made a fun end product.

CH: The constant tension of getting them back to the porthole before it closed was great. That reminded me of the old one, that anxiety I’d felt at getting the hell out of the game!

GH: Right, and I liked how they went old school there at the end, when they were on that thing that rides the beam of light.  That was a nod to us, the Atari kids.

CH:  Also, there was that scene when the kid goes into the Flynn Arcade, when he powers everything up and the jukebox is playing Journey’s “Separate Ways” and the sounds particular to those old games start pinging.

GH:  Yeah, that was a nod to us as well. And we got to see the creepy lens thingy that pixelated Flynn in the original and sent him into the grid.

It would have been a better movie (I daresay even a great one) if they’d focused.  But what they came up with is this super fun Frankenstein’s monster freak-show lightcycle thrill ride with Jeff Bridges!  All any crappy movie needs is Jeff Bridges.

CH: The Dude abides. I’m pulling for Tron: Legacy. I’ll stand by it as an entertaining work. With flaws, sure, but you can get past them.

GH:  I’ll stand by it, too.  I’ll say, again, that I’ve spent time watching more “cinematically brilliant” movies and walked away feeling far less entertained than I felt at the end of Tron: Legacy.

CH:  Maybe if Natalie Portman had a lightcycle and Jeff Bridges …

GH:  Maybe if Aronofsky didn’t get paid by the groan.