Review of Persona (1966) by Jennifer D — 09 Sep 2009

This is what it feels like to uncover an artist who has a deep impact on your life. I wish it had been earlier, but ideas are timeless, and I am slowly discovering those of Ingmar Bergman. With Persona, he is officially one of my three favorite directors, along with Alejandro Jodorowsky and Paul Thomas Anderson.

The introduction to this film took all of my preconceptions about what it would be like and stepped on them. I had no idea that Bergman could be as avant-garde as such. Bergman has stated how this was the film he went â??the furthestâ?? with, and I can understand what he means. This is an incredibly psychologically penetrating movie. It is about two women; one, a famous actress who chooses not to speak, and the other the nurse assigned to care for her.

There are so many things addressed about the human psyche that are, as always with Bergman, refreshing and original. As nurse Alma interacts with actress Elisabet, it is, at first, about herself. She tells Elisabet of her life and several important events within it. But, because Alma garners no response from Elisabet, she quickly becomes frustrated. I had been talking with a friend recently about how intriguing it is that the social behavior of doing absolutely nothing could have such an effect on others around, and Bergman has Alma fall into this kind of reaction. But when Alma discovers a letter Elisabet has written to her doctor, explaining how he she enjoys listening to and studying Alma, as well as unleashing the personal stories Alma had told her, the movie really sets into motion.

Itâ??s difficult to be cohesive with my thoughts on this movie as a whole, because there is so much to take from it. I was tearing up in multiple instances watching this, only because it is such a beautiful moving picture to behold. Every shot is so careful and emotional. There are images that stick with the viewer long after they have moved on, such as Elisabeta laying in bed, devastated, and looking up, thoughtfully, as the camera focuses on her face for what seems like an eternity. Just as you can hardly bear the pure emotion on the screen, she flips over and buries her head in hand and shadows. Or, a little boy, slowly sliding his hands across a giant picture of a womanâ??s blurred face. Or a shot that brings the influence of German expressionism, with a spiked gate traveling diagonally down the screen in front of the nursing home. Bergman does so much to the senses without any dialogue at all, so itâ??s hard to imagine how he is also so poignant and profound with the conversations between his actors.

There are plenty of wonderful thoughts about human behavior here. Alma questions the motives of one who chooses to be silent and unreceptive, and the fallacy of those who are two different people; the person by his or herself, and the person around other people. This reaches out to me, as I have trouble with consistent behavior, as well, choosing to adapt to certain people and situations, rather than be myself, and only myself, at all times.

There are interesting shots all throughout Persona. I noticed there is a focus on legs, and I also noticed the way both main characters hide their faces in shadow when crying. And, of course, when the screen quite literally rips in half over Almaâ??s face and crumples. I loved one transition shot that went from the veins in a human eye to looking at similarly-shaped drapes. Bibi Andersson and Liv Ullmann are both incredible in this, as they have quite opposite roles, but always spend time onscreen. Andersson is the enigmatic and broken Alma, while Ullmann is the famous actress who hides shame by not speaking, and simply reacting with her face. Probably the most fascinating scene, for me, was near the end, when Alma tells Elisabet the sequence of events that led the actress to her coldness. At first, we hear Alma explain to Elisabet while the camera focuses on Elisabet, looking vulnerable and despairing, turning her head when soft spots are hit during the story. Immediately after the story finishes, we start over and see the exact same scene, but this time, looking at Alma read the letter and reading her emotions as she goes through it. I thought it was a brilliant way to examine both characters.

A lot of left open for interpretation here. Some people believe that Elisabet and Alma are the two parts of the same person. This would explain why Alma knew exactly the situation Elisabet was in quite well, and I would not be opposed to that reasoning. But whether or not they are the same person, the important thing about the two characters are their behavior toward the other.

Bergman pulls out all the stops for Persona. It is halfway avant-garde imagery and exploration and halfway intimate and telling conversation between two emotionally flawed persons. There is so much in this film that has gone to influence other directors, and I am now beginning to realize how much I have been missing with Ingmar Bergman. I feel like he does not just give to cinema, but to humans in general. His ideas about humanity are important and relatable, and he has this gift of being able to unmask these secrets we hide as people through both conventional and unconventional means, through both sharp abstraction and warm invitation. The best artists do not strive to be anything; they just are. And Bergmanâ??s romantic style and ability to be equally scary and comforting in his films without deterring from the theme is glorious.

I feel like this is the way movies about people should be made. I would be hard-pressed to find a director who celebrates and questions humanity with such emotion and skill as Bergman, and Persona is now, unsurprisingly, one of my favorite films.