I recently read a quote from Darren Arronofsky, director of Black Swan, that went like this:
“I think it’s just the structure of film…They always talk about the climax – that’s the word people talk about as emotionally the highest part of the film, so we just have all the departments try to get a peak point together.” This concept of all departments working towards the climax got me thinking and after re-reading my initial thoughts on Black Swan I had what Samuel L. Jackson refers to as “a moment of clarity.”
There are good films and then there are great films. The truly great films are building their entirety towards one singular moment that is the climax of the film. This is what we seek as an audience. It’s the cinematic equivalent of sex. A cathartic moment so emotionally powerful that everything which has been built up over the course of the story is satisfied in a matter of seconds (or sometimes minutes). Our hero wins or loses, or perhaps wins by losing or loses by winning. However it shakes out, the viewer is left with a deep reaction that translates into utter joy or complicated sadness. This reaction is why human beings love stories and why film is one of the greatest art forms.
There were a few examples of this kind of storytelling last year aside from Black Swan, notably Toy Story 3, The King’s Speech, Inception, and True Grit, which has 3 such moments for all its main characters in the span of about 2 minutes within the same scene (a testament to how brilliant the Coens truly are). All of these movies craft their plots and their characters towards a singular moment, but I thought it was Black Swan’s that was the most powerful.
SPOILERS AHEAD
The climax of Black Swan is foreshadowed when the ballet company is rehearsing the end of Swan Lake and the director is instructing Nina (Natalie Portman) to look at the two men who have driven her to the brink, the Magician and the Prince. Her character is tortured and confused (both the character in Swan Lake and Nina) and the director tells her to look up at the audience. She is to then throw herself from the cliff she stands on and commit suicide. Now, while this foreshadowing may be a little obvious as to what is going to come later to some who understand film language, what Arronofsky did was brilliant. When the finale happens and Nina looks to the Magician and the Prince, everything is as expected. Then she looks up at the audience and for 3 seconds she sees her mother in close up, emotional and on the verge of tears of pride at what her daughter has accomplished. The tragedy of this is that her mother was really the only audience she’s ever been performing for her entire life. This three second shot of Nina’s mother is the climax that the entire film has been building towards. Everything has been put forth to serve this moment. All the foreshadowing, all the twists and turns, the act breaks, plot points; all of it, working together for this one 3 second shot of Nina’s mother that rips the guts out of the audience.
While not a moment does a whole film make, it seems that this catharsis and approval of the audience is what makes a film memorable and lasting. It has certainly worked for all of those films mentioned above with all earning Oscar nominations for Best Picture. This is something all storytellers need to strive for and be aware of when crafting their tales. Be it a novel, play, film or song. Anything that is telling a story should work in service of a single moment that gives anyone who hears it a distinct sense of utter joy or unimaginable sadness. While all people will feel this moment differently, the point is that they all feel it.
While writing this piece, two films from Kurosawa just popped into my brain as perfect examples of the film working to serve the climax; Ikiru and Ran. Both feature tragic endings, but while one is poignant and bittersweet, the other is cynical and leaves the audience feeling emotionally drained and hopeless. Both of these films are perfect examples of the story serving the climax, which is the more rewarding version of storytelling to me.
The point I’m trying to get at is that this one quote from Arronofsky has sparked an understanding in my brain of what truly great storytelling should be. Achieving this is another matter altogether and something I will always try to keep in mind when working on my own writings.
