Film is a unique medium in that it communicates to us through our two most important senses, sight and sound. By these mechanisms, we experience much of the world around us, and by their reflections, we hold our memories of those experiences. Film is then in a special position to present the thoughts, beliefs, and actions of a character or characters by a creator talented enough to convey them. This can, of course, come in the form of a thrilling action movie with scenes and dialog that stick with us long after we see them, and in its purest form, it can come as an expression of the inner workings of someone's mind.

The Mirror, the fourth feature film of the Russian master auteur Andrei Tarkovsky, is a semi-autobiographical film presented as the memories and dreams of Aleksei, a dying poet. In no particular order, we see scenes from his early and late childhood, as well as more recent events in his adulthood. The unconventional, stream-of- consciousness structure of the film presents these scenes as one might recall them in real life, connected by moods and moments that prompt recollection of others.

Many of his earliest memories have little bits of dialog, giving a general sense of what is happening since the specifics have been long forgotten; memories of his adult life with his son and ex-wife contain more complete conversations.

At several parts in the film, Aleksei's memories are also paralleled by reflections on Russian history and society, as we are shown footage of soldiers in World War II and hear an excerpt from a letter written by Russian poet Alexander Pushkin, among other moments. Audio is also played over some scenes of Tarkovsky's own father, Arseny Tarkovsky, reading his poems. The camera moves deliberately through all these scenes as an observer; the long takes, as well as the movie's manipulation of time and sound, are key to accomplishing the intended effect.

Tarkovsky himself maintained that he structured The Mirror as one would a piece of music, focusing on the material's form rather than on its logic. More Ligeti than Mozart, though, this film is challenging and eschews anything resembling a standard structure or plot.

I often comment on the score of a film – especially a great one – and how it contributes to the overall viewing experience. The problem with The Mirror in this regard is that the formal score is so sparse that it hardly stands out as a strong or weak aspect of the film. Passages from J.S. Bach's St. Matthew Passion play through a few key scenes, and electronic ambient music plays over others. Instead, the deliberate soundscape of the film itself becomes a sort of score in its own right, such as a strong wind blowing over a field or the oppressive noise of a printing press.

Visually, the film is rife with haunting, surreal imagery. In a black-and-white dream, Aleksei's mother stands in a large, empty room, shaking water off of her arms and the hair covering her face, before the room dissolves around her in a dampened cascade of rain and wet plaster. In another, the same woman levitates several feet above a bed until a white bird flies over her. In one of the film's more well- known scenes, the family's barn burns as Aleksei's family and neighbors watch, their small figures helplessly standing at a distance as the structure simply burns.

Watching The Mirror is artistic bliss. The depth of many of Tarkovsky's shots is enrapturing; the texture of the world around the characters is palpable. You feel the cold, hard wood of the floors and walls of Aleksei's childhood home and the cold of a Russian winter. The film reaches a certain part of your mind and supplants a man's consciousness into your own, leaving you in something of a trance.

I can never fully explain this movie, and in that knowledge comes some of my enjoyment and appreciation of it. Each idea and realization I make about particular aspects of the film is nothing compared to the work as a whole. The Mirror is ultimately a film that is meant to be experienced rather than to be fully understood or explained. The human mind is itself nebulous, and how appropriate it is that a film meant to visually portray one should be as such.

After I watched this for the first time I was left feeling confused, irritated, and a bit angered by what I perceived to be willful obfuscation. I was ready to give it 3/10 for the cinematography and Margarita Terekhova's performance, but then I read some reviews where I saw comments like: "masterpiece"; "best film of all time"; "my favorite film"; "perfect". I figured that there must be something to this film that I missed, so I thought it was worth a second try. I was helped by some reviewers who pointed out that the scenes occur in one of three time periods: in the 1930s prior to WWII, during the war (with footage from the Spanish Civil War), and in the 1960s. There is no story as such, but the memories, dreams, and current real life of Aleksei, a man in his 40s who is dying. Mixed in are documentary footage sequences and poetry readings. Things are complicated by Terekhova's playing two parts: Aleksei's wife Maria and Maria's mother. Also Ignat Daniltsev plays two parts: the young Aleksei and Aleksei's son. Oh, and at random intervals the film moves between black and white and color.

Armed with some background there *was* a reward for watching the second time. For one thing I was not so focused on the subtitles so that I could better appreciate the cinematography--the sensual quality of the wind on the fields and bushes, the lush countryside, the lighting, and the long tracking shots, for example. Even though I appreciated Terekhova's performance on first viewing, I was more impressed with her on second viewing when I was not struggling so hard to make sense out of things. There are some great scenes, like the extended one that has the young Aleksei looking into a mirror in contemplation. The future Aleksei is remembering an incident where his young self is contemplating what his future will be.

Some scenes are still mysterious, like the scene with Maria in a charred room with the ceiling falling in. Other scenes struck me as puzzlingly long, like Maria's trek to the printing office where we follow her from her house, into the rain, into the building, and through doors and down a corridor until she finally winds up at her desk. Why such a detailing of her trip to the office?

I like the concept of the film in its trying to capture how life is, as lived in our minds: in the real world, in dreams, in fantasies, and in memories--all jumbled together. To come across as so authentic, I figure that this film must be autobiographical to a great extent. In concept I would compare this to Fellini's, "8 1/2" and Malick's, "The Tree of Life." Both of these latter films were more successful for me, partly since they were easier to follow, but most importantly because they involved me emotionally at a deep level. "The Mirror" remained at a distance for me emotionally.

I have a problem with films that require research to appreciate. Maybe a third viewing would be in order sometime when I have the patience.

"Zerkalo" or "The Mirror" is a Soviet movie from 1975 and of course this one as directed by Andrei Tarkovsky and he also worked on the screenplay. His co-writer was Aleksandr Misharin with whom he has worked on other occasions as well. This film is definitely not from Tarkovsky's early years, closer to his later years, but not very late either. Anyway, this film has its 45th anniversary this year and I got to watch it on the occasion of a Tarkovsky retrospective tonight. What got me curious is of course the really high rating this one has here on imdb. But having seen other Tarkovsky works and not seen much greatness in them, my expectations weren't too high and the outcome is accordingly. Not a bad film, but also not one I would consider above-average. By the way, at approximately 105 minutes this is surely among Tarkovsky's shorter works, even if it is still triple-digit territory in terms of the running time in minutes. Not too short by general standards, but I personally was glad I did not have to sit annother 70 minutes here. i am sure the many Tarkovsky fans out there (and you can see they exist from the rating) will hate me when I say stuff like that, but the man is really hit-or-miss it seems and for 90% he is complete miss (with probably another 90% of those not having seen anything from him at all). For me he is miss too. His camera work is usually pretty impressive though. There was also one occasion here where you see it glide effortlessly through the room and there are other pretty strong examples of camera work that many very young filmmakers can lear a lot from though. But this cannot make up for the story. Or the take Tarkovsky takes in terms of the story. Not just for this film here, but in general. How he throws in and out characters feels really clumsy many times. How he ants a big reaction from the crowd, but fails to write the characters one bit in a way that we care for them. Sure, sometimes the paths the story takes (if you even understand those) helps and makes things better, but this is also the exception. If there is one filmmaker who is the utter definition of style over substance for me, then it is without a doubt Tarkovsky. He does great with the music frequently. Soundtracks from his films are never bad. He also really delivers in terms of sound effects. Just take the pouring rain here for example on at least one occasion. Visually, it is also not bad, even if the back and forth between color and black-and-white kinda troubles me and the documentary recordings in-beteen are not helping either. But then there are segments like the one with the cat and what is poured on her head. Just one example of gow this film is pretty beautiful visually here and there and could have helped the key production values for sure. However, the one key production value, maybe the biggest, namel the story, is where the film falls apart. No matter how good everything else looks like and sounds, if they ccome short in this crucial department, then it can never turn into a film for me that I give a positive recommendation. I think that if you had read an entire book summarizing this film scene by scene before watching the film, then you would have enjoyed it infinitely more. However, if you had not, then you have no clue what is going on, why it means something and also lose interest fairly quickly in over 90% of the cases I would say going by previous numbers and percentages I mentioned.

I have seen a lot of Tarkovsky on the occasion of said retrospective over the last months (interrupted by the virus though) and I felt this one here is among his more "normal" works. We are not taken to space, we are not taken several centuries back like (the two things happen in his most known), but we are in the now (well, what was the now back then I should say) and the people's lives and problems feel fairly unusual most of the time. At least in terms of everything I understood. Which was admittedly not a lot I must say. This also included the title. I mean it is nice, but what is the impact? We see a boy looking at a mirror almost at the very end. I could not see the significance. It was already pretty difficult too grasp that a dying man looks back at his childhood to be honest. This is what i read here on imdb. Anyway, on a completely different note, the fact that this film is still udner 50 years old and some cast members werenn't too old back then resulted in some actors still being alive today. I wonder what they think about this film in the 21st century. With Tarkovsky (who did not get this lucky) long gone. I have a feeling they like it. Some people still alive today are female actors. Is that a politically correct term nowadays? You don't even know what you ca say anymore. Embarrassing really. People need to stop whining. Anyway, what I actually wanted to say is that almost all female characters in this film were downright stunning. Russian beauties if you want to say so. More sexism, no? Oh well. Whatever. As for the more neutral and objective approach, I was a bit surprised how many female actors are in here. It's been a few months with all films but one by Tarkovsky I got to see at the theater, but if I remember correctly, then most of the time he focused on male protagonists. Here a male protagonist is part of the very first scene too: This strange sequence about hands and arms feeling more and more heavy gave you a nice appetizer about the weirdness going to happen in the next 100 minutes. So not sure you should keep watching. I'd personally say no. For me the case is clear. I am not a fan of Tarkovsky's approach, even if I did not constantly yawn like some of the others in my screening. Admittedly, only two or three did so and I canot really blame them. However, it must also be said that the room was full (wiith gaps in-between because of corona regulations), but approximately 50 people wanting to watch this old movie is not a bad number. And without the whole virus mess, there probably would have been more even. Yeah, what else can i say? I personally am glad that this was probably the las Tarkovsky film for me to watch on the big screen. I gave him more than a few chances to impress me, but it wasn't meant to be. So if you ask me for a recommendation, then my verdict would be a negative one unfortunately. Or fortunately? Not 100% sure. But I don't think you need my judgment here because channces are very low you've come to this place without having seen any other stuff from Tarkovsky. If you liked that one (unlike me), then feel free to check this one here out as well. I myself give it a thumbs-down though and suggest you skip the watch.