The constructed nature of celebrity and how Natalie Portman resonates with Fergus.

Spoilers: Black Swan (2010)

I remember the first time I saw Black Swan, Darren Aronofsky’s 2010 film starring Natalie Portman. I was sixteen and had downloaded the film illegally on a laptop that my father had recycled to me. I had trained as a ballet dancer as a teenager, and had an instant affinity with Portman’s character, who becomes undone by the lead role she is selected to perform in an upcoming company production. Over the next few years I found myself returning to various films in which she had starred. I rewatched the films in the Star Wars and Thor franchises; I fell in love with her dramatic performances in May December, Closer and Leon: The Professional. Her leading role in Alex Garland’s Annihilation introduced me to Jeff VanderMeer’s Southern Reach Trilogy, the first book of which serves as the source material for. 

A central tenet of any queer person’s experience is identifying with and situating oneself in relation to the actors and characters one sees in popular culture. My own experiences with this were always in relation to actresses—Natalie Portman, Jodie Foster, Zoe Saldaña, Emily Blunt. They all exude an air of class, competence and warmth, while also being completely kinetic and engaging in their performances onscreen. My teenage years were spent trawling YouTube for clips of actors on Seth Meyers’ and Stephen Colbert’s late night talk shows, Saturday Night Live opening monologues, and coveted appearances on Vogue’s 73 Questions interview series. However, what became apparent over these years was the extent to which these segments and series were highly manufactured, and almost always served to promote a new project or product. 

In his exploration of what he terms ‘star theory’, film critic Richard Dyer notes the paradoxical nature of the celebrity, wherein they appear both ordinary and extraordinary, equal parts relatable and aspirational. The utility of such a dual role is manifold, able to achieve anything from promoting a film or a brand’s ideology, to serving as a shorthand to communicate a particular set of beliefs or attitudes to the public. The relationship between celebrity influence, ideology and identification by members of the public is never static, but has nonetheless taken another very distinct turn in the past few years. Much has been written about the extent to which both long-form podcasts and short-form, Instagram reel-adjacent content have become the dominant medium to drive engagement and sales. Indeed, not only actors, but also filmmakers, musicians, authors, etc. are now more than ever required to present their personas and promote their work through these mediums and social media channels. Nowadays press tours and junkets have become instrumental in positioning the film’s success. The clips, soundbites, GIFs, memes and salacious headline fodder that are now so often generated from these tours and junkets lend artistic works cultural capital that extends beyond box office earnings.  All of this is to say that, now more than ever the relationship between celebrities, creative projects and members of the general public feels if not more fraught, then at least more discernibly tense. Streaming services continue to reconfigure the relationship between films as artistic works and as viable financial investments; stars are forced to continue wading through the muddy waters of political correctness in order to not be cancelled or have their projects boycotted; and all the while, the economic gulf between the wealthy Hollywood elites and the general public continues to widen.

It’s in the midst of this that I look to stars like Natalie Portman, and am reminded of why I do so. In 2024, Portman appeared on an episode of The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon to promote her Apple TV+ miniseries The Lady in the Lake. This was in the wake of her divorce from Benjamin Millepied, a French dancer and choreographer she had met while filming Black Swan and with whom she has two children. It was poignant to see her appear somewhat shaken, particularly as Fallon mentions her recent encounter with Rihanna, wherein the musician had called her ‘a bad bitch’. Natalie responded by saying ‘I think every woman going through a divorce should get to have Rihanna say to her that she’s a bad bitch.’ 

This interview epitomises both the strength and classiness that Natalie Portman has always, and continues to, embody within the public eye. In a 2020 episode of the Armchair Expert podcast, Portman spoke about the extent to which her experiences in Hollywood dictated the kind of actor—and person—she became. Following her début as Mathilda in Léon: The Professional, she was subjected to intense scrutiny and overt sexualisation by the media and general public. In an attempt to counteract this, the actress became selective about the roles she took on and sought to foreground the intellect and emotional intensity of her characters rather than their sexuality. And indeed, the only connecting thread between the variety of acting credits across Natalie Portman’s career is the degree of dedication and honesty she brings to each performance. This is without even mentioning the fact that she is a Harvard graduate, speaks multiple languages and also sits at the helm of both a production company and a book club. Natalie Portman is and has always been an exemplar of a performer undeterred by the mechanics of the Hollywood machine, a testament to strength and dedication in all aspects of her work, both onscreen and off. It is the kind of strength and integrity I aspire to and continue to be inspired by from afar.