Bergman, “Persona” (1966) This performance between Bibi Andersson and Live Ullman always mesmerized me.
Selfishness, neediness, a dark desire…all of these could be used to describe the two characters straight out of vampire folklore seen within Ingmar Bergman’s Persona. From the prologue , dripping with religious imagery and themes that may or may not have anything to do with the film, I could tell that this Bergman classic would not be like the others. And I was completely correct in that assumption. From the opening scene of the boy awakening in a morgue, you sit in confusion, which isn’t a stranger to a Bergman film, at his infatuation with the projected images of the woman on the wall. I was curious to understand its significance and knowing Bergman, it was either extremely significant or not at all. As the film goes on however, Bergman’s love for the human face and all the complexities found within them is even more apparent than it was in previous films. The two central characters Elisabeth and Alma have an intimate and abnormal connection that verges on the supernatural, both needing something from the other so desperately, that they are unable to be complete without it. The chilling scenes of the two women’s faces merging into one demonstrates this idea, and clarified it further so that I was able to connect it to that first opening scene. The two women were now one through the process of transference which could be similarly described as sucking someone’s blood and then injecting them with poisonous venom, transforming them into something else. It was as if Elisabeth was leaving a part of herself behind while at the same time taking a part of Alma as they slowly assimilated into one, which was represented in a scene where Elisabeth literally bites Alma’s arm and draws blood. My understanding of this symbolism ended up giving me a false sense of hope that I had finally understood the movie. This was, however, not the case, for as scenes began to repeat and play in a seemingly nonsensical order, my short-lived enlightenment slipped out of my grasp quicker than the blood trickled down Alma’s wounded arm. Despite the obvious unsettled feeling I gained from receiving an ambiguous ending, the stylistic choices utilized by Bergman to tell the story were what I believed to be the most interesting aspect of Persona. The high levels of contrast between light and dark channelled German expressionism and brought emphasis to the facial expressions of the two characters. This style is effective in a film that is reliant on the inner psyche of the human mind, as emphasis is placed on the minutest of details. The flicker of emotion that sometimes appeared on Elisabeth’s deadpan face as Alma accuses her of hating her own child, the moment Alma realizes Elisabeth is manipulating her and revealing her innermost secrets, even the moment Alma proclaims that she is “not Elisabeth Vogler” are crucial moments that rely on the audience seeing what each character is thinking.
This is why Bergman’s genius is undeniable, for being one of the early auteurs of the golden age of film, the attention he paid to the intricacy of the human condition is what separates his work from the less-natural style of films that I often associate with American Hollywood. If I was to make a choice, I would say that Persona is definitely the most intriguing Bergman film, and I was able to appreciate the character-driven storyline that I believe still holds up to today’s standards. I am not certain if I can consider myself a Bergman enthusiast after watching these three films, but I definitely have garnered a real appreciation for the artistic masterpieces he created.
the lonely film student 