By Robert Hull

When filmmaker Marty DiBergi asks Spinal Tap’s guitar "god" Nigel Tufnell about his amps that go up to 11, he says: “Is it any louder?” The answer is stark and obvious … obviously. “Well, it’s one louder, isn’t it?” And it’s this exchange I imagine Black Swan director Darren Aronofsky had with his screenwriters, and then that the movie studio had with Aronofsky.

On first viewing, there is nothing restrained or quiet about Black Swan. It’s full steam ahead, full on, full time. You may even go so far as to call it melodramatic. Actually, that should read, MELODRAMATIC!! And did I mention that this is a movie about ballet?

All of which got me thinking that weren’t melodramas the studios’ stock in trade during the halcyon days of Hollywood? Movies such as Meet Me in St. Louis (1944), Rebel Without a Cause (1955), All that Heaven Allows (1955), and Some Came Running (1958).

Subtlety just wasn’t on the agenda as characters wrestled with big themes, and feelings about love lost, love gone bad, and love stolen by the other guy who "we" don’t like – only for it to be found at the last minute with the decent chap who "we" were all rooting for. Somehow that seems to have been removed from the cinematic menu in a search for believability and its absence from the current diet of Hollywood fare may make Black Swan a tricky sell for some viewers.

Aronofsky’s magnificent film deals in extremes, extremes of passion, sex, identity and possession. It also throws in thriller and horror elements with even a hint of comedy – though occasionally unintentionally so – but none of it is done with much resembling restraint. It’s big, bold, brave and utterly compelling.

And the irony? Well, the irony is that ballet and opera, those twin high-end cultural touchstones both deal in exaggeration, ridiculous stories and larger-than-life performances on a regular basis (see below). Are we now ready to afford cinema the same luxury once again?

Read Anne Wollenberg's review of Black Swan