Mirror is a disconcerting film. There is no plot, at least in the traditional sense of the word, and much of what happens is steeped in heavy symbolism. And yet, Andrei Tarkovsky weaves the hard truths and brutal realities of everyday life into Mirror's surrealist tapestry with an effortlessness that makes the film utterly compelling. Not only do the real and surreal collide; time shifts randomly and the natural world becomes a character in its own right. I hate to think how unbearably pretentious this film could have been in the wrong hands. Tarkovsky, however, walks the fine line between art and facade with supreme skill. Mirror is an experience to be savoured.
Few films are as open to interpretation as this one. The beauty of Mirror is that allows the viewer to come to their own conclusions without being intentionally baffling or obtuse. The film is told in a non-linear fashion with events occurring in the present, past and quite possibly the future - depending on your interpretation. Pieces of a central narrative slowly begin to emerge and take shape. Mirror casts light upon the various stages of Alexei's life. However, this film is about more than one man. Alexei is a representation of humanity itself - at least, that is how I interpret the film. Tarkovsky uses Alexei's story as a vehicle for exploring the transcendent nature of human relationships. This may sound heavy going but it's not. Mirror has a dreamlike quality that washes over, rather than overwhelms, the viewer.
Tarkovsky was one of cinema's true originals. Many directors have played around with colour changes and time shifts but very few of them did it with Tarkovsky's sense of purpose. Small details in Mirror take on symbolic meanings, which further the story - this is not an exercise in empty symbolism. For example, Tarkovsky uses the natural world to link scenes and depict the passing of time. The startling use of rain and wind also contributes to the film's surreal tone. One of the most impressive aspects of the film is the director's ability to marry the real with the surreal. For every fire burning in the rain, there is the bleak image of a child sleeping in a box. Tarkovsky takes excerpts from one person's life and builds a commentary on humanity itself.
Volumes could be and possibly have been written about Mirror's multitude of layers and meanings. This film is so incredibly rich in ideas and artistry that it is almost impossible to process everything in one viewing. However, after the first viewing, you will know if Mirror is for you. The film, if nothing else, is a polarising experience. I expected to hate it given my general aversion to "arthouse" movies but was overcome by the film's humility. Unlike the majority of his colleagues, I never get the feeling that Tarkovsky is grandstanding or trying to show off his mastery. He films Alexei's story in a straightforward manner with simple angles and long shots. For a film that incorporates documentary footage of atomic explosions, bullfighting and Chinese demonstrations, Mirror remains masterfully subtle.
Tarkovsky's striking eye for composition and his ability to combine eclectic elements is without comparison. However, the film offers more than a series of captivating and confounding images. Mirror's greatest achievement is to capture a sense of what it is to be human, in a manner that is neither pompous nor pretentious. This is a hauntingly beautiful film.
Few films are as open to interpretation as this one. The beauty of Mirror is that allows the viewer to come to their own conclusions without being intentionally baffling or obtuse. The film is told in a non-linear fashion with events occurring in the present, past and quite possibly the future - depending on your interpretation. Pieces of a central narrative slowly begin to emerge and take shape. Mirror casts light upon the various stages of Alexei's life. However, this film is about more than one man. Alexei is a representation of humanity itself - at least, that is how I interpret the film. Tarkovsky uses Alexei's story as a vehicle for exploring the transcendent nature of human relationships. This may sound heavy going but it's not. Mirror has a dreamlike quality that washes over, rather than overwhelms, the viewer.
Tarkovsky was one of cinema's true originals. Many directors have played around with colour changes and time shifts but very few of them did it with Tarkovsky's sense of purpose. Small details in Mirror take on symbolic meanings, which further the story - this is not an exercise in empty symbolism. For example, Tarkovsky uses the natural world to link scenes and depict the passing of time. The startling use of rain and wind also contributes to the film's surreal tone. One of the most impressive aspects of the film is the director's ability to marry the real with the surreal. For every fire burning in the rain, there is the bleak image of a child sleeping in a box. Tarkovsky takes excerpts from one person's life and builds a commentary on humanity itself.
Volumes could be and possibly have been written about Mirror's multitude of layers and meanings. This film is so incredibly rich in ideas and artistry that it is almost impossible to process everything in one viewing. However, after the first viewing, you will know if Mirror is for you. The film, if nothing else, is a polarising experience. I expected to hate it given my general aversion to "arthouse" movies but was overcome by the film's humility. Unlike the majority of his colleagues, I never get the feeling that Tarkovsky is grandstanding or trying to show off his mastery. He films Alexei's story in a straightforward manner with simple angles and long shots. For a film that incorporates documentary footage of atomic explosions, bullfighting and Chinese demonstrations, Mirror remains masterfully subtle.
Tarkovsky's striking eye for composition and his ability to combine eclectic elements is without comparison. However, the film offers more than a series of captivating and confounding images. Mirror's greatest achievement is to capture a sense of what it is to be human, in a manner that is neither pompous nor pretentious. This is a hauntingly beautiful film.