It's actually sort of amazing to me that this film is only an hour and forty seven minutes. After watching it I felt like I had witnessed a four hour long saga detailing the history of a great many people and years. I don't mean to imply that the film dragged on or was overburdened with with frivolous details. What I'm trying to convey is that there is a lot to digest after witnessing this work of art.
This film has a sort of contradictory nature. On one hand, it has a very particular perceptive, that of a man reflecting on his past. On the other hand, it speaks to the Russian experience, and, I suspect, the experience of mankind as it pertains to the modern age. Clearly much is said about the past and how it affects the experience of the present, as well as the nature of reflection and hindsight. The true scope of this film however, is difficult to determine with certainty. After all, as with all film, the viewer must endeavor to connect all the disparate pieces of the work in order to understand its true meaning. Of course that is where things become especially difficult with The Mirror. How does one reconcile the deeply personal experience of a man's relationship with his mother as a child with the trials of the Russian people during the 20th century? Beats me.
I understand how someone could become frustrated in reading this review. It almost seems as though I'm cautioning people from watching this film given the challenge of it. That challenge of course, being the question of this film's meaning and the mission of uncovering it. Why would any audience want to waste their time with a challenge like that given the possibility of failure in this instance? That's a fair question I suppose. The answer of course is that this film is beautiful in a way that only a work of Tarkovsky's is. It has an ethereal quality which is difficult to appreciate fully without witnessing it. This film at once captures both the serene aspects of the natural world and the cruel nihilism of the human experience without putting either at odds with the other. As pretentious as that may sound, it is frankly the best way I can describe what I think makes this film, and other's by the director, unique and worth experiencing (For those concerned, so far as the obligatory review checklist of directing, cinematography, score, acting, etc is concerned, it's all fantastic).
The main take away from this review, I hope, is that you understand that it's okay to not have all the answers to this film after watching it the first time. For my part, I'm very excited at the prospect of what I may discover in repeated viewings. If you approach this film with patience and an open mind, you will be greatly rewarded.
Check it out. It's bananas.
This film has a sort of contradictory nature. On one hand, it has a very particular perceptive, that of a man reflecting on his past. On the other hand, it speaks to the Russian experience, and, I suspect, the experience of mankind as it pertains to the modern age. Clearly much is said about the past and how it affects the experience of the present, as well as the nature of reflection and hindsight. The true scope of this film however, is difficult to determine with certainty. After all, as with all film, the viewer must endeavor to connect all the disparate pieces of the work in order to understand its true meaning. Of course that is where things become especially difficult with The Mirror. How does one reconcile the deeply personal experience of a man's relationship with his mother as a child with the trials of the Russian people during the 20th century? Beats me.
I understand how someone could become frustrated in reading this review. It almost seems as though I'm cautioning people from watching this film given the challenge of it. That challenge of course, being the question of this film's meaning and the mission of uncovering it. Why would any audience want to waste their time with a challenge like that given the possibility of failure in this instance? That's a fair question I suppose. The answer of course is that this film is beautiful in a way that only a work of Tarkovsky's is. It has an ethereal quality which is difficult to appreciate fully without witnessing it. This film at once captures both the serene aspects of the natural world and the cruel nihilism of the human experience without putting either at odds with the other. As pretentious as that may sound, it is frankly the best way I can describe what I think makes this film, and other's by the director, unique and worth experiencing (For those concerned, so far as the obligatory review checklist of directing, cinematography, score, acting, etc is concerned, it's all fantastic).
The main take away from this review, I hope, is that you understand that it's okay to not have all the answers to this film after watching it the first time. For my part, I'm very excited at the prospect of what I may discover in repeated viewings. If you approach this film with patience and an open mind, you will be greatly rewarded.
Check it out. It's bananas.