Ranking the films of Darren Aronofsky from the Absolute worst to the Only good one.

Alright, here’s the ranking:

1. Pi

2. Requiem for a Dream

3. The Fountain

4. The Wrestler

5. Black Swan

6. Noah

7. Mother!

Rearrange them in any order… and there! You have your ranking of Darren Aronofsky’s films. Simple, right?

Okay, so of course I can’t just list every movie the controversial director has ever made and call it a day- I’d be a “bad-faith critic” for doing that. What’s the purpose of this article, then? Why’d I trick you all here with an outrageous headline from a clearly biased position?

First, some backstory:

About 7 Years ago, I was a young person exploring an obscene, titillating world for the first time. I’d been a bit of a conformist child, the type that stuck to the rules because the rules were good for me. One of those rules? No R-rated movies, an objection which stymied my little cinemaphilic mind. After all, I was the sort of kid that haunted the IMDB top 200 movies list, fastidiously denoting the little shifts in its hierarchy as time passed. Usually, a deluge of either pop-culture obsessives or “must-see” Prestige pics flooded the Top 200 every season. They then dropped off as the list re-established its natural order. In particular, I remember tracking “The Dark Rises” as it plummeted from a coveted top-ten place to the comfortable 72nd slot it occupies now (a generous position for sure, but let’s stay on topic). Besides these, though, I was equally fascinated with the movies fluttering throughout the bottom third of the list, their position constantly threatened by encroaching newcomers. One of these, perpetually trapped at the bottom- and now off the list entirely- caught my eye: an outrageous Natalie Portman vehicle, one which piqued certain locked away, forbidden interests. I’d first heard of the film during the 2011 Oscars, the first time I’d watched the ceremony. While the lumbering Kings Speech dominated the conversation, I found myself entranced by an altogether unlikely possibility, one presented by one of the winners that year: was Natalie Portman a good actress? Her win for Black Swan suggested so; as I looked further into the movie, I realized that- as a lurid tale of queer sex, elegance, and violence- it was something I needed to see.

I waited five years-I had to be 17 to watch R-rated films after all. Finally, the floodgates opened on an unexpected occasion. My friends, under the pretense of seeing The Spongebob Movie: Sponge Out of Water, instead forced me into a showing of Kingsmen: the Secret Service, and the rest is history. Having lost my Restricted film virginity, I finally knew that it was time for Black Swan. I locked myself into my room, loaded the forbidden film onto my 4th-gen Ipod Touch, and waited to be amazed.

And I hated it. I hated Black Swan. I still hate it. When people ask me what my least favorite movie is, I say Black Swan. Does that mean it’s the worst movie ever made? Of course not, but the betrayal I felt after realizing how little substance the film held is unparalleled. Over time, this betrayal would cascade into a series of other experiences. Its these which form the basis for this article: an account of my enduring attempts to “get” director Darren Aronofsky. So, the title’s partially a lie. I tricked you, reader; this isn’t just a list of Darren Aronofsky’s films ranked from worst to best, it’s a discussion on what it means to consume art- even art that someone hates.

So, as per the obsessive tendencies of yours truly, I found myself attached to Aronofsky in the ensuing years. College arrived, gifting me the space necessary to develop my own tastes. I found my attention drawn to Requiem for a Dream, another mainstay on IMDB’s top 250 (noticing an embarrassing pattern here? As I said, I was one of those kids). Like Black Swan, Requiem for a Dream also irritated a certain, off-putting fascination- it is, after all, a movie which distends into the extremities of bad-taste. Unlike Black Swan, the puritanical beating-heart of Requiem lends itself to ridicule, an over-dramatized collection of obscene scenarios with little purpose other than to scare naïve kiddos away from drugs. And, despite my hatred of Swan, I do recognize its complicated themes; Requiem has none of that going for it.

However, Requiem’s heightened drama, mingled with frankly stunning cinematography, fooled me into taking Aronofsky seriously as a filmmaker; within the next year, I watched Pi and The Fountain too. Both films benefit from missing that no-holds-barred sensationalism Aronofsky sold his other projects with- but he replaces it with general weirdness. While Black Swan­ and Requiem feature their own off-beat, lyrical moments, these other two movies become nigh unintelligible. This works better in Pi than The Fountain, mostly as a result of scale. The former- his first- had a shoe-string budget to recreate the shifting, absurd paranoia of a mathematician’s wet-dream. This is fine- the movie’s atmospheric as hell- but the plot meanders through a trite series of eye-twitching fantasies which culminate in an anticlimactic whimper. Despite fixating on a singular entity, the film distances the viewer from the protagonist emotionally, an issue Aronofsky embraces with The Fountain.

Like Swan, The Fountain is frustrating for its flirtations with greatness. He nearly pulls off a triumph, its triptych of a story converging at unexpected forums in such a satisfying way. Not to mention, the movie’s just bonkers enough to entice the view with its mysterious strangeness. It juxtapositions three unrelated stories across time and space, linked only by thematic resonance… for the most part. Aronofsky has to ruin the effect at the end by forcing the three stories together, a series of exhausting visuals thrown in to boot. Never has my interest in a film dropped so precipitously; you know those theme park rides which take you hundreds of feet in the air, then your stomach drops out as you fall back to Earth? That’s what watching The Fountain is like. I’m actually okay with the movie up until Aronofsky’s unfathomable style overtakes the materiel, melding its unique brand of storytelling into a nonsensical conglomeration of spiritualist nonsense.

With The Fountain lies my fatal attraction to Aronofsky: in theory, I should love his work. He’s cultivated a strong voice in the twenty-odd years since Pi, establishing a style immediately recognizable as his own. In my opinion, this idiosyncrasy makes Aronofsky not an artist, but an artiste… the sarcasm mostly intended. Consider other verifiable artiste’s- your Refn’s, Von Trier’s, Campions. Artists of… controversial merit, but nonetheless individual in their perspective. It’s an epoch few artists overtake, regardless of their quality as a filmmaker. For example, consider a Creative like Greta Gerwig: I adore her work, she’s brilliant, and she’s made two films better than I could imagine Aronofsky even touching. However, if another Director shot her scripts, I believe the films would look about the same. The same cannot be said of Aronofsky-unless some other director intentionally mimicked his obsessions. Because of this, I’m irresistibly drawn to Aronofsky’s work- of course, the fact that Aronofsky often shoots his movies on 16mm film helps too. His movies look gorgeous, the texture perfect for cultivating strange intimacy. As the reader has no doubt caught onto by now, I’m a critic with a number of strange biases, my predilection for 16mm being one of them. The format exemplifies beauty in film- it’s as “real” as the medium becomes. This instantly makes Aronofsky’s films attractive, the glint of rough celluloid catching my eye. When paired with his other positive qualities, Aronofsky becomes an unavoidable figure; whatever he makes-good or bad- it will be interesting.

Which brings me to Mother!, the culmination of my Aronofsky pursuit. His masterwork of Biblical fiction infamously courted divisive reactions upon its release- for good reason. After marketing the film as straight-up horror, audiences walked away from a confusingly disturbed experience. It’s a movie where Javier Bardem claws every piece of humanity away from Jennifer Lawrence until, in a justified huff, she destroys everything she knows. Slotted among the domestic abuse is a heavy-handed parable for biblical retribution, betraying yet another of Aronofsky’s obsessions (besides abused women) following his epic, Noah. With Mother!, Aronofsky chases the absurdity of his earlier career… and for me it actually works. I love Mother!, its obviousness aside. Aronofsky has the courage to careen it full-tilt into nightmare, belaying the over-the-top awfulness with a sense of palpable urgency. Mother!, its allusions aside, tackles the greatest threat facing society: ecological disaster. He finally alights on an issue which requires only the shallow understanding he puts into it, thereby eliminating the biggest issues facing his other films. Not to mention, he matured somewhere along the way after coining the term “Ass to Ass”- now, at least he attempts to incorporate women’s perspective to his movies. While perhaps unintentionally, Aronofsky nursed a nasty penchant for objectifying the women in his films, assuming an obviously paternalistic opinion of what women should and shouldn’t be doing. However, by centering the narrative on Jennifer Lawrence in Mother!, he ties her abuse to the abuse of the natural world, Mother Earth, etc. Basically, the universality of its themes makes the movie work.

Keeping the greatness of Mother! in mind, it’s important to realize that appreciation can develop over time- especially with art. All because of a movie like that, Aronofsky was worth the wait. Do I still scoff at the news of whatever project he’s cooked up next? Of course! But the little shreds of confidence he discards with each project hooks me close, ensuring my interest in whatever else he throws out there. Through the love-hate (tending towards the latter) relationship [to his movies] I’ve tethered myself to, I learned a vital lesson: art is art. All pretention aside, recognizing what is “good” versus what you think is “good” takes interaction- it takes practice. Writing off an artist after interacting with them for the first time will deprive audiences of the little gems hidden in their other work. Alternately, we as people change, and alongside this comes a shift in perspective. Any interaction may spur these developments, especially as people mature alongside the art they consume.

So, the next time you sit down to watch a movie and Black Swan flits across your mind, against every fiber of my being I’d say, “Go ahead and watch it.”

Now, Before I go, here’s the ranking you came for, as promised. (punctuated with some brief comments that put bad commentary to shame):

First, the movies off the List:

The Wrestler

• The only one I haven’t seen, because watching all of Aronofsky’s movies would make me a masochist.

Noah

• I refuse to believe this is actually a real movie, so it does not count towards The Ranking.

*Author’s blurb: Should I have watched these movies? In the interest of good-faith criticism, undoubtably. When reading these types of rankings on other websites, the author will at least give the impression of having seen everything on their list… even if they include *ahem* ambiguous details. That’s a show of impartiality, as well as commitment to work, right? But, as I’ve said, this isn’t exactly a ranking of all Aronofsky, so I’m off on a technicality.

So, Onto the real list:

6. Black Swan

• The image of Natalie Portman panic-attacking as Mila Kunis eats her out still gives me confusing nightmares.

5. Requiem for a Dream

• A movie which suggests fucking Keith David is a bad thing. In what world would that be a bad thing.

4. The Fountain:

• At least Hugh Jackman is sexy… in one third of it. I’ll let you decide which third. This is a photo of Rachel Weiss, by the way… somehow.

2. Pi

• Power Drill to the head? It’s awesome, horrifying, and I can’t figure out how he did it. Unfortunately, the movie makes no goddamn sense.

1. Mother!

• That exclamation point just gives it so much style!

And there you have it, folks, and thanks for reading my first article!