Film Education - PERSONA

So, as part of my No MFA program, I’m doing something film schools everywhere do – pumping my student (aka, me) full of a lot of ‘great, game-changing’ movies. My Netflix queue is now a mile long, filled with movies I’ve been told I need to see for my ‘film education.’ Today’s flick: Ingmar Bergmann’s horror classic, Persona.

The fact that I just finished watching it an hour ago, have already read about four online analyses of it, and am now rushing to do this blog post (when I haven’t posted on other movies I’ve watched), should give you an idea of the effect it had on me.

It’s not that I completely loved the movie.

It’s that I was completely, thoroughly disturbed by it.

Also, it’s that I disagree with a lot of the interpretations I’ve read online. Granted, it’s very complex and touches on a lot of themes, and any number of interpretations could be valid. But everything I was reading seemed to agree on two things that I completely disagreed with, so I have to state my point of view.

Before getting into that, though, let me give you the basic premise of the film… a renowned actress, Elisabet, suddenly goes mute. Whether this is by choice or a true affliction is up for debate. For her treatment, a doctor recommends that Alma, her nurse, takes her to a beachside home where the two of them will stay alone together for a period of time. Throughout the film, the nurse basically winds up losing her marbles, eventually begging the patient to speak with her.

The first thing that most all viewers seem to feel which I completely disagree with is that Elisabet is cruel. One psychoanalysis online even went so far as to say she’s incapable of caring for anyone but herself and rejuvenated only through others’ suffering. She will not acknowledge Alma as a human being.

But I completely disagree. At the start of the film, we see Elisabet’s desperation. She cries both when she is alone and when she sees a monk burn himself in protest on the news. She’s also afraid. During one super-uncomfortable, looooong stretch, she stares directly into our eyes, pleading with us silently to help her. (I had to fast-forward it, it was so unnerving. I also had to fast-forward two other scenes that included disturbing imagery, one of which is only thirty seconds into the movie; it may be the first time I was ever so uncomfortable with a film that I had to fast forward.)

True, Elisabet seems to recover bit by bit at the beach… but the root of her problem, as stated by her doctor, is that she’s realized nothing she can do or say can capture the truth of life; it is all pretend. Therefore, she decides to do and say nothing. I didn’t think she was trying to be cruel to Alma. I just felt that not even Alma’s pleas seemed sincere or genuine - that nothing anyone could say seemed real to Elisabet. Most people online also feel that Elisabet's profession as an actress shows her narcissism - I just felt it reinforced this idea of everything being make-believe.

The second thing that everyone but me seems to agree on is that Alma’s big speech at the end is truly revealing Elisabet’s past and not Alma’s. (By extension, everyone seems to believe that these are two separate women.) I’m not convinced that either of these is true.

First, Alma had no way of knowing all the things she claims are Elisabet’s history. Elisabet hasn’t told her and, even though Elisabet’s husband shows up briefly (and sleeps with Alma, believing her to be his wife,) I don’t think he’s shared (or could possibly have known) all the details Alma goes into, either. Furthermore, I think it entirely possible that these two women are supposed to be the same woman, stuck in an internal war with guilt and the struggle to understand life.

At any rate, it is brilliant film-making, and, according to what I read, this film includes the first-ever instance of the awesome face-merge shot in cinema:

TADA! This is two women in one.

It was beneficial to watch and I have a feeling it will have me thinking for quite a while… but, if you rent it, be warned: by the time I got through it, my first thought was: “Thank God, I survived it.” I was completely relieved it was done.