After I watched this for the first time I was left feeling confused, irritated, and a bit angered by what I perceived to be willful obfuscation. I was ready to give it 3/10 for the cinematography and Margarita Terekhova's performance, but then I read some reviews where I saw comments like: "masterpiece"; "best film of all time"; "my favorite film"; "perfect". I figured that there must be something to this film that I missed, so I thought it was worth a second try. I was helped by some reviewers who pointed out that the scenes occur in one of three time periods: in the 1930s prior to WWII, during the war (with footage from the Spanish Civil War), and in the 1960s. There is no story as such, but the memories, dreams, and current real life of Aleksei, a man in his 40s who is dying. Mixed in are documentary footage sequences and poetry readings. Things are complicated by Terekhova's playing two parts: Aleksei's wife Maria and Maria's mother. Also Ignat Daniltsev plays two parts: the young Aleksei and Aleksei's son. Oh, and at random intervals the film moves between black and white and color.
Armed with some background there *was* a reward for watching the second time. For one thing I was not so focused on the subtitles so that I could better appreciate the cinematography--the sensual quality of the wind on the fields and bushes, the lush countryside, the lighting, and the long tracking shots, for example. Even though I appreciated Terekhova's performance on first viewing, I was more impressed with her on second viewing when I was not struggling so hard to make sense out of things. There are some great scenes, like the extended one that has the young Aleksei looking into a mirror in contemplation. The future Aleksei is remembering an incident where his young self is contemplating what his future will be.
Some scenes are still mysterious, like the scene with Maria in a charred room with the ceiling falling in. Other scenes struck me as puzzlingly long, like Maria's trek to the printing office where we follow her from her house, into the rain, into the building, and through doors and down a corridor until she finally winds up at her desk. Why such a detailing of her trip to the office?
I like the concept of the film in its trying to capture how life is, as lived in our minds: in the real world, in dreams, in fantasies, and in memories--all jumbled together. To come across as so authentic, I figure that this film must be autobiographical to a great extent. In concept I would compare this to Fellini's, "8 1/2" and Malick's, "The Tree of Life." Both of these latter films were more successful for me, partly since they were easier to follow, but most importantly because they involved me emotionally at a deep level. "The Mirror" remained at a distance for me emotionally.
I have a problem with films that require research to appreciate. Maybe a third viewing would be in order sometime when I have the patience.
Armed with some background there *was* a reward for watching the second time. For one thing I was not so focused on the subtitles so that I could better appreciate the cinematography--the sensual quality of the wind on the fields and bushes, the lush countryside, the lighting, and the long tracking shots, for example. Even though I appreciated Terekhova's performance on first viewing, I was more impressed with her on second viewing when I was not struggling so hard to make sense out of things. There are some great scenes, like the extended one that has the young Aleksei looking into a mirror in contemplation. The future Aleksei is remembering an incident where his young self is contemplating what his future will be.
Some scenes are still mysterious, like the scene with Maria in a charred room with the ceiling falling in. Other scenes struck me as puzzlingly long, like Maria's trek to the printing office where we follow her from her house, into the rain, into the building, and through doors and down a corridor until she finally winds up at her desk. Why such a detailing of her trip to the office?
I like the concept of the film in its trying to capture how life is, as lived in our minds: in the real world, in dreams, in fantasies, and in memories--all jumbled together. To come across as so authentic, I figure that this film must be autobiographical to a great extent. In concept I would compare this to Fellini's, "8 1/2" and Malick's, "The Tree of Life." Both of these latter films were more successful for me, partly since they were easier to follow, but most importantly because they involved me emotionally at a deep level. "The Mirror" remained at a distance for me emotionally.
I have a problem with films that require research to appreciate. Maybe a third viewing would be in order sometime when I have the patience.