Hey team,
Let's get right to it!
I recently watched director Ingmar Bergman's 1966 film "Persona", and I want to tell you a little bit about it.
The film is almost exclusively comprised of the dual performance of Liv Ullman as Elisabet, an actor who is in the midst of either a psychiatric and/or an existential crisis, and Bibi Andersson as Alma, the nurse assigned to care for Elisabet as she retreats to an isolated beachfront vacation home to convalesce. And true to Bergman form, hilarity thereafter ensues.
In contrast to the heady and at times dark content that "Persona" explores, I found welcome relief in the gorgeous, rich photography of the film. Bergman and his team achieved beautiful, deep graduations of color and textures in this excellently-shot black-and-white movie. There were several moments in which the beauty of the images in this movie strikingly enhance the contemplative quietude of the story's setting, acting as a visual breath of fresh air. The deliberate intentionality and high quality of the images in "Persona" is a case study in the value of shooting with physical film.
"Persona" is also noteworthy--in the context of movies from its era in general, though probably not in the context of Bergman's work--for the respect and seriousness with which it treats the psyches of women as it plunges deep into their depths. Reacting to Elisbet's persistent silence as a mirror that over time warps until it shatters, Alma takes a free association-style tour through massive topics in human existence. She explores the inexorable pull she feels to autopilot through her own life. She interprets Elisabet's wordless and complete withdrawal from the world as the product of her realization that expressing herself in any way is to lie; that speaking or interacting in the world is inherently inauthentic, performative, dishonest and self-betraying. She imagines the existential horror of motherhood and how this may have driven Elisabet to abandon her son. In the face of Elisabet's at first placid silence, Alma wanders deeper into her own previously-unexamined identity, experiencing ever greater confusion about where she ends and Elisabet begins. She hallucinates, she lashes out in rage, she tearfully pleads for forgiveness and connection.
The twin performances of "Persona" expertly carry the entire film. They are mesmerizing. Like Alma, we are drawn to study Elisabet's face for any fleeting indication of what she is thinking or that she might finally break her silence. Like Elisabet, we are fascinated by the whirlpool of memories and impressions that spill forth from Alma as she feels for the first time like she can speak because someone is truly listening.
What was especially striking about watching "Persona" recently was that, somewhere in the middle third of the film, I experienced a growing inkling that I'd seen this film before. And true enough, I evidently watched--and apparently very much liked--it in 2011. And I have to say, having now done it, the nagging sense of familiarity I derived from totally forgetting at first that I’d watched this movie over 10 years ago was an oddly appropriate mindset in which to watch this film about slowly descending into surreality and ultimately into madness. 10/10 would recommend!
I think we all know by now that I'm a sucker for Bergman, so it likely comes as no surprise that I gave "Persona" a 5 (again).
{Heart}
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