One of live theater’s greatest drawbacks is that it’s an intangible medium. After the actors have taken their last curtain call and the set has been struck, it’s all gone without a trace. It isn’t like a movie, a book or an album, which the creators can put on a shelf in commemoration of all the time and hard work that went into its creation. Moreover, there’s no way that anyone in the audience, cast or crew can rewatch or revisit the performance, except maybe through memories.

Of further interest is that this applies equally to all plays and all performances. Without a cast recording of some kind, all live performances — from grade school talent shows to multi-million dollar Broadway spectaculars — instantly fade into the ether upon completion. To that end, it must be asked: How much is a great live performance worth? How much time, effort, blood, sweat and sinew is demanded of something so impermanent? How much do foolish mistakes or great accomplishments matter, when neither one will leave any evidence behind?

Black Swan tells the story of Nina Sayers, a young woman whose life goal is to be nothing less than the perfect ballerina. She’s spent years with a prominent New York ballet company and her dancing skill is without question. At the end of the movie’s first act, Nina wins the highly coveted lead role of the company’s season premiere, “Swan Lake.” Nina is perfect for the Swan Queen, as she conveys great amounts of purity and innocence. The problem is that Nina is also responsible for playing the Swan Queen’s evil twin, the eponymous Black Swan. Because Nina has devoted her entire life to honing and maintaining her ballet technique, she’s become extremely inhibited and hopelessly stuck in her comfort zone. We thus have our struggle, as Nina pushes herself ever harder to play the sensual and seductive Black Swan.

At its heart and core, this is a film about suffering for art’s sake. Nina pushes herself to the physical limit in this movie, picking up a few nasty rashes and cuts as well as some rather startling weight loss, and we’re there to see every last bloody bit of it. The mental stress is also crippling, with frequent hallucinations that we witness from Nina’s point of view. These visions become so frequent and so lifelike as Nina’s sanity degrades that the entire third act is more or less open to interpretation. Sure, there’s a baseline of reality there, but you’re perfectly welcome to draw that baseline where you think it fits best.

Through it all, the film never forgets to subtly ask if all this sacrifice is worth it. This issue is mostly personified by Beth Macintyre, a brief role beautifully played by Winona Ryder. Beth is the company’s former champion ballerina, recently forced to retire at the ripe old age of… actually, I don’t think her age is stated outright. Suffice to say that in the ageist world of ballet, Winona Ryder would be too old to continue performing. This forced retirement has made Beth hopelessly bitter and self-destructive to a horrifying extent. In her past glory and in her current obsolescence, Beth concurrently serves as a role model for the success that Nina hopes to one day achieve and as a warning for what she may and probably will become in the near future.

The film takes great pains to depict ballet in a way that feels authentic. There’s a lot of competition and cattiness among the company’s ballerinas, something that encourages Nina’s mental breakdown through paranoia and damaged self-esteem. A lot of screen time is also given to show how the ballerinas warm up and prepare their equipment. Hell, this film has more shots of feet than in the wettest of Quentin Tarantino’s dreams.

But then there are the dance sequences. Darren Aronofsky clearly put a huge amount of effort into the ballet scenes and it really shows. In fact, there are several ballet scenes — including the film’s prologue — that were shot in single, continuous takes. Just think about that. Ballet scenes that go on for minutes at a time without a single cut. This would obviously require skilled choreography and dancers talented enough to go for several minutes without stopping, just as any stage play would, but this is a movie. There are cameras, lights and boom mics involved, each with their own crews, all required to stay out of the shot and out of the actors’ way. This would be especially difficult in a room full of reflective surfaces, as dance studios usually are. This means that the dancers, the crew and the equipment would all have to be painstakingly choreographed with pinpoint accuracy, all moving in perfect sync for an entire scene to create a long, gorgeous and usable take. Oh. My. God. Fuck the Oscars, give this team a medal!

And speaking of cinematography, the color scheme for this movie is very effective. The film has a very washed-out look to it, only splurging on color during the final performance and for some of the hallucinations. In particular, many of the dance scenes have a very stark look, almost completely devoid of any colors save for black and white. This monochromatic look also extends to Thomas’ office, his apartment and probably a few other scenes that I didn’t notice. This is a subtle yet powerful way to reinforce this movie’s theme of contrast. The movie is filled to the brim with such visual reminders of the Swan Queen/Black Swan clash, particularly in the costume design.

Needless to say, this movie benefits greatly from Aronofsky’s direction, but Natalie Portman is the real star here. The role of Nina is obviously very demanding and Portman gives it the performance of a lifetime. She sells Nina’s tearful joy at getting the part. She conveys a perfect mix of confusion and arousal when being seduced. She dances with confident beauty and she nails every moment of physical, mental and emotional pain. Nina goes through the whole range of emotions from agony to ecstasy and Portman is there to deliver every single moment like a bona fide legend. If her performance here gets half the recognition it deserves, this role will define Portman’s career for years to come. God knows she could use it, too: Queen Amidala just isn’t cutting it anymore.

The supporting roles and their characters are all superlative as well. First and foremost among them is the play’s director, Thomas Leroy, played by Vincent Cassel. This guy knows exactly what he wants and he knows how to get it, though exactly what he wants is anyone’s guess. Is he trying to help Nina with her role or is he just trying to sleep with her? Is the guy a brilliant artist or just a sleaze? Maybe both? All of the various scenes in which Thomas manipulates and seduces Nina tread this fine line, but Aronofsky does a great job of keeping it fresh and Cassel wonderfully plays Thomas as a constant enigma. I did get a little tired of so many characters constantly telling us about Thomas’ reputation as a Lothario, though. It seemed like a rather artificial and lazy way to make the point.

Next up is Barbara Hershey in the role of Nina’s mother. Later in the movie, we learn that Erica Sayers retired from ballet to start a family at the age of 28 (Nina’s father is never seen or mentioned, so far as I recall). Given this backstory and how Erica dotes on her daughter, it’s clear that she’s living vicariously through Nina to some degree. However, it’s usually quite vague how much parental support is for Nina’s sake and how much is for Erica’s, and that level of nuance is a credit to Hershey. Moreover, when the chips come down and Erica has to choose between supporting Nina’s success and supporting Nina’s well-being, she chooses her daughter’s well-being every single time. This does a lot to make the character likable.

Last but not least is Lily, played by Mila Kunis. She’s the wild girl who’s not nearly Nina’s equal in ballet proficiency, but she has the vivacity and sexuality that Nina sorely lacks. That’s all we really learn about her. This would make for a one-dimensional character in a lesser movie, but this one implicitly acknowledges that we know nothing about the character, treating it as a mysterious and possibly dangerous allure that actually strengthens Lily’s character. It also helps that Lily plays such a central role in several of Nina’s head trips, constantly leaving us (and her) wondering just how much we know about Lily is real. Add in some sharp writing and a superbly devil-may-care performance from Kunis and you’ve got a very fun character to watch.

Speaking of which, I’d like to address this movie’s sexual content. Chances are good that you already know about the lesbian make-out session between Portman and Kunis, but just wait until you find out how far that make-out session goes. This film has more than its share of masturbation and other sexual acts, yet there isn’t a shred of nudity to be seen. Aronofsky managed to make sex scenes erotic, sensual and just plain hot, all without showing anything that would need to be covered otherwise. I’ve never seen anything like it outside of Jessica Alba’s pole dance in Sin City and Rose McGowan’s opening tease in Planet Terror, but Robert Rodriguez never went to the steamy extent that Aronofsky did here. Then again, I should also mention that this film shows the other side of the coin as well: A brief yet uncomfortable scene on the subway makes it clear that looking beautiful for a living does tend to result in unwelcome attention from unwanted admirers.

I suppose I should wrap up the review with a word on the score, especially since music plays such a huge part in the premise of this movie. But why would I bother? In my opinion, Clint Mansell can do no wrong, especially when paired with Aronofsky. The score is of Mansell’s usual sterling caliber and music from “Swan Lake” is wonderfully used. What more can I say?

I cannot overstate how much I recommend that you see Black Swan at your earliest opportunity. See it for the nuanced characters and the superlative acting performances, especially from Natalie Portman. See it for the stunning visuals and the amazing dance sequences set to amazing music. If nothing else, see it now because you’ll be hearing about it ad nauseum as the movie awards season continues.