‘Persona’ (1966) is one of Ingmar Bergman’s most iconic achievements.
The film possesses some of the most powerful filmic images that have ever
emerged from the medium, and the style and theme presented in this piece of great
European art cinema have inspired so many later filmmakers. This
black-and-white film is confrontational, and it has a starkness that reminds me
of Hiroshi Teshigahara’s ‘Woman in the Dunes’ (1964). On the other hand, it also
reminds me of ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ (1968), as both films pose questions
rather than offering answers. ‘Persona’ is a total mystery, and there is simply
not one unifying interpretation regarding what it is about. You do not go to
Bergman or Kubrick and ask them what the movies mean – it is you who are
supposed to connect and understand these masterpieces in your personal way.
The story of Persona is indeed quite simple. Elisabet Vogler
was a theatre actress, who has suddenly become mute during a stage performance.
So, a nurse called Alma
was called in to take care of her, and the majority of the story revolved
around their intimate interactions. Alma
talked to the mute Elisabet throughout the film, and in most cases Elisabet
did not response in any verbal means. Yet, as the story progressed, all lines
of divisions were blurred. Past and present were linked up, dream and reality
were no longer clear, two faces seemed to merge into one...
Bergman’s Masks
The word ‘persona’, which is derived from a Latin origin,
means the masks that are worn by actors when they are performing on a stage.
Isn’t life a drama after all? We all wear various masks when we interact with
others. We present ourselves to the others as a certain persona, and too often,
we hide our true selves behind the curtain. What is even more depressing,
however, is that we often do not have the courage to face our real selves. The
theme of mask and façade is prevalent also in Jean Renoir’s films – from ‘The
Grand Illusion’ to ‘The Rules of the Game’. Renoir firmly believed that, only
by looking beyond the façade and tearing off the masks, one could finally see
the true face of humanity.
Why do we have to hide behind these false personas and exist
as if we are theatre performers? To Bergman, we do have quite a lot to hide. We
all have a lot of problems and angst to confront, and when we start to consider
the meaning of life, we are exposed to an emptiness and loneliness for which
the implications are often tough to take in. The ennui and emptiness of modern
existence is also a major theme in Michelangelo Antonioni’s films, and it
should not be surprising that both Bergman and Antonioni’s most productive
periods are both in the 1950s / 1960s. To repress these hard feelings, we
desire to run away from all these intimate problems and long to play another easier
role, through the undertaking of another persona.
The fun of acting, however, is hard to sustain. In the film,
Elisabet suddenly broke down during a stage performance and ceased to speak
anymore after that. The breaking point represented the dissonance between her
stage persona – or in a more metaphoric way – the persona she was pretending in
real life – and her truest inner self. It was the massive conflict of her true
and assumed self that made her aware of her existential problems. Her powerful
response was that of silence - this was her statement that she did not want to
play this assumed role anymore.
The axis of turning
In Bergman’s films, turning is one of the most important and
symbolic gestures. In many cases, it is the turning away that represents the
most painful experience for the characters. Turning away is to run away from
problems, relationships, and human interactions. That explains why Bergman’s
faces are his most resourceful motifs for his work. The movements and gestures
of the faces very much convey the interactions of the characters, and also symbolize
whether they are willing to commit or not.
In Persona, Elisabet has been trying to run away. She was
mute most of the time, and she did not response to any of Alma ’s questions. Alma served to confront Elisabet, to ask her
questions about her past experiences. Alma ’s
challenges invited Elisabet to confront her true self, and to add to that, the
stunning close-up of faces also invited the audience to examine themselves.
Elisabet, like any other characters in Bergman’s films, could not run away from
her problems. She might be mute for no sensible reasons, yet the true voice in
her mind would not cease. The intensity of the film was contributed from the
two great actresses, Bibi Andersson and Liv Ullmann. In most of the film, there
were only the two of them performing, and the claustrophobic intimacy only
added to the intensity and the psychological thrill of the resulting
masterpiece.
Bergman’s films often deal with existentialism, and the
journey to find one’s meaning of existence is often a lonely one. I feel there
is an optimistic aspect in many of Bergman’s bleak pictures – the company of
someone who is willing to give a hand. The most powerful ‘face’ scenes in
Bergman’s films often consist of two faces – with someone who is willing to ask
questions and to inspire. It is the presence of an ‘other’ who will motivate
you to look beyond the surface and give you the courage to face the spiritual
sickness, which in Bergman’s view, is far more problematic than any physical
sickness that has appeared in this world.
by Ed Law
27/8/2016
Film Analysis
