In praise of Natal­ie Portman’s women in power

Natal­ie Portman’s ver­sa­til­i­ty as a lead actor lends itself to a wide range of char­ac­ters and gen­res, demon­strat­ed by her diverse fil­mog­ra­phy. Yet one type of role has cropped up time and again through­out Portman’s career: the pow­er­ful woman. Through her per­for­mances in the Star Wars pre­quel tril­o­gy, Black Swan, Jack­ie and Vox Lux, Port­man has proven her love for play­ing women with agency, who hold a posi­tion of great influ­ence and responsibility.

As queen and lat­er sen­a­tor Pad­mé Ami­dala in the Star Wars pre­quels, Port­man is regal­ly dressed in a host of elab­o­rate head­dress­es and cer­e­mo­ni­al cos­tumes, hold­ing her­self with a dig­ni­fied com­po­sure. Pad­mé is artic­u­late and con­fi­dent despite her young age; she knows exact­ly what she wants and how to get it. These same char­ac­ter­is­tics are shared by Jacque­line Kennedy. In Jack­ie, Port­man gives a per­for­mance of great com­mand and poise as we fol­low her in the imme­di­ate after­math of Pres­i­dent John F Kennedy’s assas­si­na­tion. Com­ing from a posi­tion of great pow­er and priv­i­lege, the loss of her hus­band is an emo­tion­al knock in more ways than one, yet she han­dles it with such resilience.

Jack­ie is struc­tured around an inter­view, but she doesn’t make things easy for the reporter, dis­miss­ing his hol­low com­pli­ments and con­do­lences. Cig­a­rette in hand, Jack­ie only ever divulges a very cal­cu­lat­ed account of events, and inter­ro­gates the reporter as much as he does her. Even when she appears at her most vul­ner­a­ble, break­ing down while describ­ing the hor­rif­ic details of her husband’s death, she very quick­ly col­lects her­self, regain­ing the pow­er she held in the con­ver­sa­tion with the line, ​“Don’t think for one sec­ond that I’m going to let you pub­lish that.”

Port­man imbues both Pad­mé and Jack­ie with self-assured­ness and a matu­ri­ty beyond the char­ac­ters’ respec­tive years. In her capac­i­ty as a polit­i­cal activist, Port­man is a com­pelling and elo­quent speak­er, vocal on impor­tant issues such as equal pay and the Times Up move­ment. The afore­men­tioned roles utilise this facet of her nature. Where­as Pad­mé and Jack­ie are gov­erned by a strong sense of right and wrong, the women Port­man brings to life in Black Swan and Vox Lox are pure enter­tain­ers. They may not hold as much respon­si­bil­i­ty over those watch­ing their careers but as fig­ures to idolise, they bear a lot of influence.

Vox Lux is the sto­ry of pop star Celeste, who becomes an overnight star as a child after respond­ing to a shoot­ing at her school with a song of hope. At the height of her fame, Celeste attracts a huge inter­na­tion­al fol­low­ing, and we see how her celebri­ty changes the wide-eyed, vir­ginal star­let into a hard­ened, cyn­i­cal ​‘has-been’. Port­man plays the high­ly-strung per­former through adult­hood with such inten­si­ty, and a con­stant inter­nal anger that bub­bles beneath the sur­face just wait­ing to erupt.

As an adult, Celeste can still com­mand a room as she did in her youth, but not nec­es­sar­i­ly for the right rea­sons; a crowd of reporters are more inter­est­ed in tabloid scan­dals than her upcom­ing tour. When she tru­ly reach­es her low­est ebb, Celeste’s sis­ter con­soles her with the promise that, ​“In just a few min­utes the pub­lic will be at your feet again.” All she wants is for peo­ple to wor­ship her like they used to, and her extreme­ly trou­bled life can only be soothed by the roar of ador­ing fans.

No stranger to play­ing char­ac­ters changed by the lime­light, in Black Swan Port­man plays a bal­le­ri­na named Nina, dri­ven to extrem­i­ty in her quest for mag­nif­i­cence. Being cast as the swan queen in her company’s pro­duc­tion of Swan Lake gives the timid Nina a shock of con­fi­dence. Sti­fled by her demand­ing moth­er at home and exploit­ed by her misog­y­nis­tic dance teacher, Nina is repressed by those around her.

Only when the angel­ic dancer begins to get in touch with her dark side, explor­ing her sex­u­al­i­ty and aban­don­ing her strict lifestyle, does she start to regain pow­er and con­trol over her sit­u­a­tion, and evolve as a per­former. Obsessed with find­ing per­fec­tion and para­noid about los­ing her role, life begins to imi­tate art as her mind starts play­ing tricks on her. Nina los­es who she used to be but gains the ado­ra­tion of the audi­ence and her peers, dom­i­nat­ing the room with an intox­i­cat­ing per­for­mance as the black swan.

Celeste and Nina are messy and impul­sive, but in being so make elec­tri­fy­ing per­form­ers that cap­ti­vate their audi­ence. Their pow­er is the atten­tion they receive from their fans. Port­man com­plete­ly throws her­self into a role as if all-con­sumed by her art, just like the per­form­ers she is por­tray­ing. Celeste and Nina aren’t per­fect by any means, but per­haps Port­man loves them all the more for it. After all, they’re liv­ing the mantra pro­claimed by the actress at the recent Elle Women in Hol­ly­wood event, ​“Fuck up and thrive, sisters”.

Port­man is drawn to such coura­geous, self-empow­ered char­ac­ters because they hold the same val­ues as she does. Whether demure and com­posed, or spon­ta­neous and explo­sive, the ulti­mate goal of these women is to do right by their respec­tive audi­ences, and to make their time in the lime­light count. Only a fear­less actor could cap­ture the essence of these remark­able women so flawlessly.