Hotel workers picketing in front of Toronto’s Hyatt on King Street — Friday, 9.10, 5:40 pm.

The mere sight of this put a dent in my day. To think that there are guys who actually go out and buy these things and put them on before going out to the local coffee shop and say to themselves, “Yeah…looks good. Enhances my image.”

I hate those usherettes who stand around in theatres with their little flashlights. If you get up and move for any reason they turn them on…beam. “Please turn it off,” I always say to them. “Thank you but I don’t need your assistance. I can see fine.” One of these women was standing about twelve feet away from me during this morning’s screening of Black Swan. Every time someone went to the head she turned on her damn flashlight, and again when they returned. This became extremely annoying; it messed with my concentration. Who needs flashlights to see where they’re going? Little old ladies from Pasadena?

Late last month MCN’s David Poland predicted that Tyler Perry‘s For Colored Girls “is a lock to end up in this year’s Oscar race come December” providing that Lionsgate advances the opening (currently skedded for January 2011) to sometime in December. Due respect to the source material, but this is not a credible projection since Perry is incapable of making an Oscar-worthy film, due to a profound lack of talent.

Darren Aronofsky‘s Black Swan (Fox Searchlight, 12.1) is immediately admitted into the Best of 2010 club. It stands head and shoulders over every previous Aronofsky film — it’s way in front of The Wrestler and don’t even mention Requiem for a Dream. It’s also cinched a Best Picture nomination (obviously) and totally locks in Natalie Portman as a Best Actress nominee. Done, settled, no arguments.

This is Portman’s Bette Davis performance in All About Eve mixed with a little Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? twitchy goony-bird grand guignol, only younger, hotter and (bonus point) bisexual. The movie is also these things but with a little dab of Herbert Ross‘s The Turning Point (did I just say that?) and slight sprinklings of Rosemary’s Baby, Psycho and Ken Russell‘s Mahler.

I was thinking this morning (and I realize I’m being way premature) that Portman might snatch the Best Actress Oscar away from poor Annette Bening, whose Kids Are All Right performance has been looking like the front-runner. The Academy loves and wants to finally take care of Bening after all her frustrating losses (she’s holding this year’s Jeff Bridges industry-goodwill hand) but whaddaya gonna do when a performance like Portman’s comes along? You can’t vote industry-buddy purely for the sake of industry-buddy. You have to man up and give it to the actress with the best chops.

“FUCKING BRILLIANT MOVIE!,” I just wrote Aronofsky. “But Jesus…why did you use the term ‘horror movie’ with me last summer? This is manic psychological realism. All about going mad from a desperate need for creative perfection and mastery of craft, and fear of losing your edge or a competitor stepping in front of you. Each and every anxiety attack plaguing Portman’s ballet-dancer character is self-inflicted, and there’s never a moment when you say, “Okay, now we’re entering the realm of pure wackjob fuck-all horror” — you keep it real from start to finish.

“Blair Witch and The Last Exorcism and that little paranormal thing aside, the horror genre has become so cheap and chewed up, so sullied with a gore-and-blood-bath mentality, so given over to excess and grotesque wallows for the sake of grotesque wallows…whereas your movie is absolutely reality-based — pure psychological metaphor, and always thoroughly tethered to Portman’s mental state. It’s a movie about the inside of an ambitious woman’s head all the way, and yet operatic and schizo and just a gradual tumble of anxiety and panic and finally madness. And yet fascinating all the way through with all the subtle CG and rashes and bleeding cuticles and cracked toenails.

“And wonderful CG! Which is to say the kind of CG that doesn’t call attention to itself 90% of the time. I lost count after a while. 40-something?” No, I was told — Black Swan has just over 300 vfx shots. “Almost every mirror is slightly manipulated,” he said. “Lots of subtle, hopefully unconscious weirdness.” Of course, the unconscious or not-blatantly-noticable weirdness is what’s beautiful about it, I replied. One of the things, I mean. And there are so many.

Cheers also to Portman’s costars — Mila Kunis, Winona Ryder (a grotesque role, but the best thing she’s done in eons), the great Vincent Cassel and Barbara Hershey. And hats off to Matthew Libatique‘s cinematography (which is grainy like The Wrestler‘s), Andrew Weisblum‘s editing and Clint Mansell‘s original score.

I’ve been trying to write my Black Swan review for the last 90 minutes, but my favorite Mac image-manipulation software — picnik.com — is acting wacked, forcing me to use the irritating and altogether tedious iPhoto. I need to find something that’s as easy as Picnik — easy for dumb guys, I mean — but doesn’t twitch out on me. On top of which I need a lover who won’t drive me crazy, but we’ll let that go for now.

King Street — Thursday, 9.9, 8:40 pm.

The Inside Job team prior to last night’s Ryerson screening. I’m afraid I don’t know everyone’s name, but the laid-back bearded guy on the left is Sony co-chief Michael Barker, director Charles Ferguson is standing dead center, the woman in the black dress is either exec producer Christina Weiss Lurie or associate producer Kalyanee Mam, and Sony co-chief Tom Bernard is the big friendly-looking guy to her right.

Prior to last night’s 9 pm screening of Charles Ferguson‘s Inside Job at the Ryerson: