The Mirror

Rating:
Summary: An absolute must-have!
Review: Andrei Tarkovsky's THE MIRROR (1974) is his most personal and artistically daring film--and to me, ultimately his most moving.

A semi-autobiographical work, it interweaves poems, dramatic scenes, dreams and newsreels to evoke the inner symbolic world of the protagonist, his nostalgia for the past and his troubled relationships with his wife and mother in the present. At the same time it is a meditation on the nature of Russia, from the nation's role as mediator between the East and West to specific historical events such as the Stalinist purges of the mid-to-late 1930s and World War II. Indeed, few works of art say more about the Russian people with such economy.

The cinematography, by Georgii Rerberg, is so richly detailed that it frequently takes your breath away. Many of the shots are deliberately reminiscent of paintings by Breughel and Leonardo da Vinci. The soundtrack is equally beautiful, layered with natural sounds, electronic music, classical music (by composers such as Bach and Pergolesi) and poems (written and recited by the director's father Arsenii Tarkovsky, a noted Russian poet).

The film undoubtedly benefits from its superb cast, which includes many popular and highly respected Russian actors. The voice of the Narrator is played by Innokenty Smoktunovsky; Margarita Terekhova plays both the Mother and the Wife. Other actors make indelible impressions in smaller roles: Anatoly Solonitsyn (the Doctor), Oleg Yankovsky (the Father), Alla Demidova and Nikolai Grinko (the mother's colleagues at the printing factory). For those who speak Russian, it's a pleasure just to hear their finely tuned dialogue.

Although the film was widely criticized for being too difficult to follow, it was also praised by many Russian critics for capturing the spirit of an entire generation. It may not be to the taste of everyone, since it is constructed more like a poem than a conventional film narrative. However, for those who are willing to make the leap of faith, it is uniquely rewarding.

Kino on Video's new DVD looks absolutely stunning. Having seen the film a number of times in various less-than-ideal incarnations on video, I was impressed at the way the DVD captures the richness of the film's cinemtography. The film is above all a sensuous experience, so every extra bit of detail in the image and sound helps add to its overall emotional impact. Kino has used the same transfer for their new VHS edition, but the DVD is clearly preferable and it's the same price. It doesn't have any special features, unlike Kino's new release of Tarkovky's THE SACRIFICE, which includes a making-of documentary. However, it's hard to complain when the film itself and the video transfer are so satisfying. In summation, I can hardly recommend this particular title more highly.

Rating:
Summary: A very special achievement in film. My DVD pick of the year.
Review: Andrei Tarkovsky's THE MIRROR is a historical achievement in art and form. This is what great movies should be like: very personal without being overly sympathetic and corny. It was very hard for me to understand. It is about a person who is reviewing events that have occurred in his life before he dies, but the movie presents his experiences in a non-linear fashion. Probably the best way to approach this movie is to put yourself in the individual's shoes. We all think of past experiences, but not always chronologically. Even if one may find this film hard to understand, there are many beautiful moments in this film: the opening scene, the dream sequence, the print shop, the stock footage of the balloon ascent, the bird landing on the boy's head, the firing range, the fire, etc... This movie's unpopularity in the United States is living proof that many true works of cinematic art in this country largely go unnoticed. If I can direct at least one person to the works of Andrei Tarkovsky then I feel my work as a film buff is done.

Rating:
Summary: Pleasures of the Ineffable
Review: As with all work by the great Russian filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky, "The Mirror" is an enigmatic, not quite describable film composed of finely honed imagery and evocative sounds that combine to produce an experience both delicate and overpowering at the same time. Tarkovsky's is among the most personal of personal filmmaking, in which each film seems a quest to re-invent the cinema over and over again. Rooted in the rhythms and routines of the everyday, his films are nonetheless the opposite of banal, finding in a glass of spilled milk or the movement of the wind through the trees an exquisite opening on to the transcendent.

For such an uncompromising, original artist, every film is in a sense autobiographical, a record of his thoughts and feelings at the moment of filming. Yet in this, Tarkovsky's most explicitly autobiographical film (it is based on his childhood experiences during World War II), the results are relatively unsatisfying. There are still breathtakingly beautiful images, arresting sequences of inexplicable power, the same singular vision. What is surprising is how *fashionable* "The Mirror" is, and as a result, how dated. Made in the early 1970s, "The Mirror" indulges in many late 60s/early 70s mannerisms, including a non-linear narrative, stream-of-consciousness editing, dreams to explain the irrational and the use of newsreel footage as a kind of collective memory.

While masterfully employed, these techniques are not really worthy of a director who has proven repeatedly his ability to move beyond fashion and create his own standards. Dependent on editing, these devices are also just a tad removed from Tarkovsky's basic skills. His best work flows with the coursing sparkle of the streams and puddles he loves to film. There are times in the "The Mirror," on the other hand, when the cuts from one shot or scene to another are more forced than flowing, a touch too disconnected to compel as anything other than filmmaking necessity.

"The Mirror" is nonetheless vividly textured, with an almost voracious response to light, shade and materials. (I have never seen a more effective use of the *grain* of film stock to enhance the tactile qualities of the image.) Like "Solaris," it makes a good introduction to Tarkovksy's work for viewers who might be a little put off by his more uncompromising efforts. Which is to say that in addition to dating the film, "The Mirror's" stylishness works to smooth over some of the director's rough edges. Viewers already familiar with Tarkovsky's cinema will not be seriously disappointed, perhaps just a little surprised, as I was, that he too could succumb to the momentarily fashionable.

Rating:
Summary: Pleasures of the Ineffable
Review: As with all work by the great Russian filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky, "The Mirror" is an enigmatic, not quite describable film composed of finely honed imagery and evocative sounds that combine to produce an experience both delicate and overpowering at the same time. Tarkovsky's is among the most personal of personal filmmaking, in which each film seems a quest to re-invent the cinema over and over again. Rooted in the rhythms and routines of the everyday, his films are nonetheless the opposite of banal, finding in a glass of spilled milk or the movement of the wind through the trees an exquisite opening on to the transcendent.

For such an uncompromising, original artist, every film is in a sense autobiographical, a record of his thoughts and feelings at the moment of filming. Yet in this, Tarkovsky's most explicitly autobiographical film (it is based on his childhood experiences during World War II), the results are relatively unsatisfying. There are still breathtakingly beautiful images, arresting sequences of inexplicable power, the same singular vision. What is surprising is how *fashionable* "The Mirror" is, and as a result, how dated. Made in the early 1970s, "The Mirror" indulges in many late 60s/early 70s mannerisms, including a non-linear narrative, stream-of-consciousness editing, dreams to explain the irrational and the use of newsreel footage as a kind of collective memory.

While masterfully employed, these techniques are not really worthy of a director who has proven repeatedly his ability to move beyond fashion and create his own standards. Dependent on editing, these devices are also just a tad removed from Tarkovsky's basic skills. His best work flows with the coursing sparkle of the streams and puddles he loves to film. There are times in the "The Mirror," on the other hand, when the cuts from one shot or scene to another are more forced than flowing, a touch too disconnected to compel as anything other than filmmaking necessity.

"The Mirror" is nonetheless vividly textured, with an almost voracious response to light, shade and materials. (I have never seen a more effective use of the *grain* of film stock to enhance the tactile qualities of the image.) Like "Solaris," it makes a good introduction to Tarkovksy's work for viewers who might be a little put off by his more uncompromising efforts. Which is to say that in addition to dating the film, "The Mirror's" stylishness works to smooth over some of the director's rough edges. Viewers already familiar with Tarkovsky's cinema will not be seriously disappointed, perhaps just a little surprised, as I was, that he too could succumb to the momentarily fashionable.

Rating:
Summary: A beautiful art work by a highly skilled artist
Review: Be sure to read Vlad's review of the shoddy quality of this DVD. As a non-Russian speaker, I am essentially spared the awful knowledge of just what has been done to this film.

At first viewing, unless you are an incredibly perspicacious viewer, this movie will be utterly baffling, partly because Tarkovsky has gone to such lengths to blur past and present. The same actress plays the protagonist's ex-wife in the present and mother in the past and the same actor plays the protagonist's son in the present and himself in the past. Sometimes the present is in color, the past in black & white; having established this expectation, Tarkovsky then reverses it on you later. Yet other times, dreams are in color and reality is in that tantalizing shade of sepia-color-black & white that Tarkovsky has used elsewhere (especially in "Stalker").

In fact, I was so baffled when I first saw the film that I simply gave up trying to follow the narrative and basked in the intense beauty of the film work. The dream sequence of the mother washing her hair, for instance, is utterly mesmerizing. The long shot that carries us from a table out to witness a burning building is breathtaking in all of the various reflections and reversals of angles it uses along the way. The final shot of an old women and two children walking into a field as the camera pulls slowly into deeper and deeper woods until finally the people are completely concealed by the trees often chokes me up, and I couldn't tell you why. Even the opening scene, simply a conversation on a fence by a field, is an exquisitely choreographed ballet of cinematography.

This most personal of Tarkovsky's intensely personal body of work is essentially biographical, but no self-respecting member of the Russian intelligentsia, at least not one of Tarkovsky's disposition, could ever justify such a self-indulgence as mere biography. Consequently, we never see the protagonist, save for his hand when he is ill and overhearing his voice. This erasure of his adult self, and the inclusion of newsreel footage of key historical moments during the protagonist's life, aim at creating a generalized biography for all of Russia. An especially striking moment shows news footage of Russian soldiers slogging muddily through a bog. As soon as one has the full impression that this is human life in a thoroughly degraded condition, a voiceover of one of Tarkovsky's father's poems talks of immortality, sublime beauty, the very loftiest of human sentiments on spirituality. The contrast is deliberate, but not ironic, and illustrates a triumph of the human spirit in even the most unlikely of places and times. Elsewhere, Tarkovsky makes a religion of elevating the mundane. In his book on his work, he admits that one of his techniques (he denies there is anything symbolic in his work) is to focus on an object for so long that the viewer inevitably begins to wonder at, and thereby increase the significance of it.

Perhaps if the subtitles were better, I'd better understand the film. As it is, the sheer intensity of the films gorgeousness never ceases to amaze me. The dream sequences alone are simply amazing. There have been other movies that might here or there exceed the Mirror in beauty for a moment or two ("Picnic at Hanging Rock" comes to mind), but I've never found one that can even come close to matching its consistency throughout. This is without question, the most visually moving film I have ever seen.

Rating:
Summary: Unsurpassed Beauty
Review: Be sure to read Vlad's review of the shoddy quality of this DVD. As a non-Russian speaker, I am essentially spared the awful knowledge of just what has been done to this film.

At first viewing, unless you are an incredibly perspicacious viewer, this movie will be utterly baffling, partly because Tarkovsky has gone to such lengths to blur past and present. The same actress plays the protagonist's ex-wife in the present and mother in the past and the same actor plays the protagonist's son in the present and himself in the past. Sometimes the present is in color, the past in black & white; having established this expectation, Tarkovsky then reverses it on you later. Yet other times, dreams are in color and reality is in that tantalizing shade of sepia-color-black & white that Tarkovsky has used elsewhere (especially in "Stalker").

In fact, I was so baffled when I first saw the film that I simply gave up trying to follow the narrative and basked in the intense beauty of the film work. The dream sequence of the mother washing her hair, for instance, is utterly mesmerizing. The long shot that carries us from a table out to witness a burning building is breathtaking in all of the various reflections and reversals of angles it uses along the way. The final shot of an old women and two children walking into a field as the camera pulls slowly into deeper and deeper woods until finally the people are completely concealed by the trees often chokes me up, and I couldn't tell you why. Even the opening scene, simply a conversation on a fence by a field, is an exquisitely choreographed ballet of cinematography.

This most personal of Tarkovsky's intensely personal body of work is essentially biographical, but no self-respecting member of the Russian intelligentsia, at least not one of Tarkovsky's disposition, could ever justify such a self-indulgence as mere biography. Consequently, we never see the protagonist, save for his hand when he is ill and overhearing his voice. This erasure of his adult self, and the inclusion of newsreel footage of key historical moments during the protagonist's life, aim at creating a generalized biography for all of Russia. An especially striking moment shows news footage of Russian soldiers slogging muddily through a bog. As soon as one has the full impression that this is human life in a thoroughly degraded condition, a voiceover of one of Tarkovsky's father's poems talks of immortality, sublime beauty, the very loftiest of human sentiments on spirituality. The contrast is deliberate, but not ironic, and illustrates a triumph of the human spirit in even the most unlikely of places and times. Elsewhere, Tarkovsky makes a religion of elevating the mundane. In his book on his work, he admits that one of his techniques (he denies there is anything symbolic in his work) is to focus on an object for so long that the viewer inevitably begins to wonder at, and thereby increase the significance of it.

Perhaps if the subtitles were better, I'd better understand the film. As it is, the sheer intensity of the films gorgeousness never ceases to amaze me. The dream sequences alone are simply amazing. There have been other movies that might here or there exceed the Mirror in beauty for a moment or two ("Picnic at Hanging Rock" comes to mind), but I've never found one that can even come close to matching its consistency throughout. This is without question, the most visually moving film I have ever seen.

Rating:
Summary: The slowest movie ever made?
Review: First of all. I love Tarkovskij's movies (most of them) but this one is really something different. The film has not been panned and scanned it was shot in full frame ratio which is strange and it is only like 100 minutes long but it feels more like 200 minutes. I am a filmtheory student and have a hard time understanding the greatness of this film. To me it's just a lot of random scenes and sequences that are impossible to follow. However, as a big cinema fasn you should have seen this anyway. =) One funny thing is the menus that are kind of weird in a russian way. Which I also like.

Rating:
Summary: some technical remarks
Review: First, regarding the framing 1:33 is very close to the original 1:37, but a little bit zoomed so lacking some parts of the picture but not too much. The quality of the master is very good (much better than any VHS) but not as good as many DVDs avialable on the market, especially compared to "Andrei Roublev" by Criterion. Also Kino on Video has transfered the monochromic newsreels in the movie (originally in sepia, orange, bronwnish tones) in plain B&W. What a pity. Last but not least, the foreign dialogues (spanish, and newsreels) are not translated, but in my opinion is not very important as it adds some mystery and make you feel like a stranger as if you were russian. Anyway, the movie is incredible and the DVD is quite good, colors scenes are stunning.

Rating:
Summary: The Finnegan's Wake of Russian Film
Review: Having some knowledge of Tarkovsky the man as well as Russian history may prove useful to penetrating this extraordinary, layered film. A man (never seen, but presumed to be the director) reviews his own life, as well as the lives of other people integral in his life--chiefly his wife and mother (played by the same female actor), set against a Russian historical backdrop from the early Stalin years to the early 70s. Those seeking exposure to Tarkovsky, but are turned off by his longer, more ponderous works (think _Andrei Rublev_), should be pleased to find that this film clocks in at about 100 minutes, and packed with images that are at once breathtaking and startling. Tarkovsky is sort of an anomaly to other Russian filmmakers because his films seemed to deal less with pro-Soviet propaganda and more with aesthetic composition, and _The Mirror_ is no exception. Juxtaposing film speeds, b&w v. color photography, Tarkovsky subtly suggests the importance of individual perception and individual focus shaping the way we view key events in our lives. This film also suggests that this conflict of the self is also both cyclical and basically universal. The film may bring to mind the key works of Joyce, albeit in a more compartmentalized version. And the images themselves are positively magnificent! My personal favorites are the bird landing on the child's head, and the collapsing wall amidst a rainstorm. Not an easy film to watch at all, but definitely worth the effort. Tarkovsky paved the way for other filmmakers, notably Peter Greenaway and Theo Angelopoulous, who saw film as more effective as portrait instead of narrative device.

Rating:
Summary: Brilliant film, terrible DVD
Review: Having watched this movie since I was in my early teens, I have bought the DVD published by KINO ON VIDEO, and oh my, Andrei Tarkovsky must be rolling in his grave knowing what they did to his masterpiece.

For those of you who don't speak Russian, I feel very very very bad for you, because of the terrible translation of the movie. Aside from the poems in the movie, that were previously translated by the professionals, the translation sounds as though it was done by fifth-graders. And not just because it is done in the high-school level English. HALF of the speech is not translated at all--a lot of important chatter is completely missing in the subtitles. Many things are oversimplified and revealed, instead of letting the viewer dig them out him/herself. Those of you who don't understand Russian are doomed to be tortured by such translation and never to reveal the true beauty and meaning of the original script. Having read all of the subtitles, I understood a lot of things in a wrong way, different from the way they were intended in the first place, and had zero satisfaction from the movie. Thank [deity] I'm Russian.

The ugly yellow subtitles can NOT be removed--they will stay on the screen forever while I watch the movie and irritate and upset me with the abovementioned crimes against Art.

The supposedly "black and white" scenes, which originally had a silver-ish quality to them, and some were in sepia, are now in plain B&W a la Fellini's La Strada. I used to have a feeling that the bushes were made out of steel and silver, but not on this DVD.

DVD has ZERO extras, and thank [deity] they divided the movie into chapters for easy scene access, but even there they managed to screw up. Upon skipping to a chapter, the scenes do not start from the beginning, and you actually skip halfway into the characters' speech.

For Tarkovsky movies, I would NORMALLY recommend R.U.S.C.I.C.O. editions, but not in the case of Mirror. Yes, as any R.U.S.C.I.C.O. movie, it has very good subtitles, in a dozen languages. But, the problems with the picture and sound are even worse in their edition, albeit better picture quality as opposed to the grainy KINO quality. R.U.S.C.I.C.O. tried extremely hard to make the movie more enjoyable, and, apparently, overdid it. The lighting does not match with the original movie, as they try to make every object more distinctly seen and illuminated. They increase sharpness in places where it shouldn't take place, such as "hand-on-fire" image, thus depriving the illusion that the hand is on fire. Remastered sound often fails too, as many sounds are louder than others and overlap each other out of order.

But I digress. We have no other choice but to choose between either KINO or R.U.S.C.I.C.O. edition of Mirror. I suggest buying both :) so that you could experience the near-proper picture quality of KINO and the proper translation of R.U.S.C.I.C.O.