“Everybody goes a little mad sometimes,” says Norma Bates in Psycho; but Nina Sayers does it in a big way in Black Swan, the phantasmagorical dance musical having its world-premiere at the American Repertory Theater. The source, of course, is Darren Aronofsky’s 2010 psychological thriller that won Natalie Portman a well-deserved Oscar. And it is a challenging choice for a musical adaptation, if only because the cool distancing on screen is difficult to capture in the immediacy of a theatrical presentation. But book writer Jen Silverman and composer/lyricist Dave Malloy are attuned to Aronofsky’s dark vision, and to this add an acidic critique of the professional dance world served up in a sensational fever-dream of a production, directed and choreographed by Sonya Tayeh.

It is an uncompromising vision that will likely leave some, especially those unfamiliar with its source, bewildered. Either you’re on for the ride or not, and if you did not like the film, you’ll likely not like this musical. There’s little warmth in the characters; even Nina (Melanie Moore) is a sad outsider who lacks the ego and snark to connect with her fellow dancers at one of New York’s leading dance companies. They are a nasty bunch and Silverman’s backstage banter reflects their social toxicity, which is also heard in some of Malloy’s lyrics. This is a cut-throat environment reminiscent of the terrific HBO show Industry, just trade IPOs for ballet slippers.

The plot pivots on a new production of Swan Lake to be choreographed by Margeaux LeRoy (Amber Iman), a leading, sometimes controversial choreographer who has replaced a male choreographer at the last minute. LeRoy demands complete control for her vision of the ballet, which strips it down to only swans – no Prince, no Sorcerer – and will make her own choice of who plays the Swan Queen. Complicating matters is that the role has already been promised to the company’s prima ballerina, Beth (Tory Trowbridge), who is most unhappy with the turn of events. At the auditions, Nina and Lily (Jada Simone Clark), the company’s favorite, score high; but LeRoy chooses Nina, in whom she sees something dark lurking beneath the surface.

Her instinct is correct – Nina has a doppelgänger, a Black Swan, who appears to her fleetingly when she practices in front of the mirror. Once she gets the role, her ‘Doppel’ (as she is called, played by Ida Saki) reveals herself at crucial moments during the rehearsal process. Still, Nina is plagued with self-doubt that makes her a target among her fellow sharks. Her sheltered upbringing under her overbearing mother Barbara (played by understudy Mehry Eslaminia on press night) leaves her unprepared to assume the diva role she aspires to; and she begins to crack – quite spectacularly – under the pressure.

Black Swan’s first half sets up the environment, the rivalries, and the politics of this rarified world; one in which a broken ankle all but dooms a dancer from a lead role. Its second half follows Nina’s descent into madness. At the end of the first half, she has joined her peers for a night out at a club where she does shots and takes Ecstasy. Before she knows it, she’s in bed with Lily and hours late for a crucial rehearsal the next day. But did she sleep with Lily? And is she imagining being tormented by the other dancers? The cracks are beginning to show and Jacques (Thom Sesma), the company’s director, wants her replaced; but LeRoy stands by her, though with doubts. During rehearsal, Nina has visions, then implodes in the musical’s final section – a bizarre and effectively creepy nightmare in which the wooden soldiers from The Nutcracker join the principals in attacking her. Somehow, she goes on and triumphs, but at a terrific cost.

What’s missing in the first act is the film’s sexual politics that played such a crucial part in Nina getting the role in the film. Here Nina and LeRoy have a professional relationship, mentor and student, though LeRoy is the closest thing Black Swan gets to an empathetic character, aside from Nina, played by the phenomenal Melanie Moore, who goes from sweet ingenue to the carnivorous Black Swan she dances in the performance of LeRoy’s ballet that concludes the nightmarish climax. By this point, Malloy’s score moves away from evoking Broadway show styles to techno that extends through the final sequence. The first act follows the contours of a traditional musical, which Malloy handles with an eye-popping opening that brought to mind A Chorus Line (in a good way). There is a great “wanting song” – Star – in which mother and daughter celebrate her future; a clever audition sequence; a pair of satiric numbers; a dance diva’s swan song; and a great dance sequence at the end of the first act where Nina and Lily have sex on the roof (and Nina’s bed) to Malloy’s growingly ecstatic music. Those who know Tchaikovsky’s score could likely identify the quotes from it that Malloy is said to have brought into the songs, which fit nicely into Silverman’s terse narrative.

No doubt a behind-the-scenes dance musical brings to mind A Chorus Line, but Black Swan is nothing like that feel-good musical. It’s hard to feel good about anybody at the musical’s end. But Sonya Tayeh’s work brings to mind what director/choreographer Michael Bennett did throughout his career: kept it moving and kept it interesting. She also keeps much of the show in the dark (the shadowy lighting is by Isabella Byrd), which makes it a bit more creepy. And it is creepy. The eerie illusion design (Chris Fisher and Skylar Fox; blood design by Lillis Meeh) is guaranteed to evoke a shudder or two. As for blood, it is not shied away from. The fast-moving set designs (by AMP, featuring Marissa Todd) have a simple elegance, most notably when a golden chandelier materialized in the gala sequence that instantly brought to mind Malloy’s Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812. And Shiona Turini’s striking costume design runs from designer gowns to rehearsal wear to the final ballet’s feathered swans. The music supervision and direction by Or Matias nicely balanced Malloy’s orchestrations with the vocals.

Moore’s Nina is a slow burn. At first she lives up to her reputation of blending into the dancing corps, but her dark, assertive side slowly emerges. She brings such believability to the role that it was sweet to see her smile at the curtain call – those dark forces hadn’t taken her over. Jada Simone Clark is a spectacularly good dancer and actress who brings nuance to Lily; Amber Iman is commanding as LeRoy, and also provides an edge of vulnerability that makes her the most real of the characters. Tory Trowbridge must capture Beth’s fall from grace in a series of short scenes and songs, and does so quite well. Thom Sesma plays the ballet company’s administrative head with bluff conviction. And the ensemble is quite wonderful, whether throwing shade at a rehearsal or breaking loose at a nightclub.

Black Swan is very of-the-moment, but also pays homage to the seamless musical staging of Michael Bennett (I thought of Dreamgirls a few times), even to Agnes de Mille with its use of an extensive dream ballet – here a nightmarish sequence that really should be seen to be believed – and expresses them through 21st-century staging and tech advances. It boldly and confidently takes a film and captures its essence while expanding its horizons. What makes it special is that it goes to places musical theater hasn’t gone before in a big commercial way.

Black Swan continues through July 12 at the Loeb Drama Center, 64 Brattle Street, Cambridge, MA. For further information, visit the American Repertory Theater website at this link.