L’Avventura

In Michelangelo Antonioni’s L’Avventura, I was really immersed in what most would say represents the stereotypical European art film. My first impression is that it really tests the audience patience in being fully engaged in the movie. The film is very long and not much really happens the whole time. So for a regular movie watcher, this film would be a difficult watch because it is opposite from the typical Hollywood tropes that happen in mainstream films. It sometimes feels like a chore to watch because of the lack of intense action that happen in the long duration of the movie. But, with all the more subdued instances in the film, you can appreciate the little details that further make this an art film.

It really shows how diverse the European art films from each country, especially compared to the Godard and Bergman movies. This movie really savours in its slow burn mystery turned romance movie. Like many of the art films that has been made throughout the years, the film also showed peculiarity in its depiction of the characters. One noteworthy aspect of the film was how only Claudia seemed to be worried about Anna in the duration of the film. The weird scene with Claudia, Guilia and the painter, further highlights the indifference of almost all the characters in what would normally be a major issue. The characters feel like they were in another world and that they don’t act normally like how people outside of the film act. There is also a bourgeois attitude among the characters and they are normally either in lavish parties or in vacation. This really makes the typical audience to feel disconnected with the people they are watching on screen. None of them really feel relatable and I felt that this was intentional so that it is emphasized even further the alienation of Claudia from the world she is in after the sudden disappearance of Anna.

Monica Vitti is also very engaging in her role as Claudia as she oozes a very chic vibe from the moment she steps on screen. She also embodies this alienation very well because her evolution throughout the film is quite evident. From being this laid back person to the hysterical attitude she became by the end of the film. The film really relies on her because she is the heart of the movie and she really demonstrates her acting range in the movie.

But, the strongest part of the film is evidently the visual aspect. The film, like most art films, really looks beautiful in every frame. The images are all striking and fully enhanced by having attractive looking actors to be in them. The cinematography of the movie is its greatest asset because rather than telling you what’s happening it shows you with the beautifully shot images.  But, for me the most striking aspect were the costumes worn by the actors, specifically Monica Vitti’s Claudia. Here clothes are very cool and chic and was able to represent high fashion that could have easily walked the runways of Paris and Milan.

Enrico R. Barruela COM 115.5 A

A Look on Plot, Cinematography: The Experience that is the L’Avventura

220px-L'avventuraSmall.jpgLooking at merely the first arc of the film—from the introduction of the characters, the wealthy upbringing, the passion shared by the characters, to the unexpected and mysterious loss of the seemingly primed major character Anna—it was beginning to look like any other film, since creating a conflict which would presumably be the center of the story. It is not the case in L’Avventura, however. The film is not about the search for a mysteriously missing woman. It is about the adventure.

The film does not follow the typical or the norm with a well-made and seamless flow of scenes in a plot. Somehow, I am also compelled to say that the film does not even feel like the normal films. Looking at how the Michaelangelo Antonioni picked the angles of the scenes and the noticeably zoomed-in frames, hearing the obvious candid sounds, realizing the obvious unsystematic plot, and noticing the blatant vibe that everything seems to be fake, the film was really less about the story, maybe a little bit about the character, but it is mostly about the experience of watching. Because only through experiencing the film on a deeper level would I be able to make sense of the characters and the unconventional plot.

I can vividly remember one of the first scenes where the camera was angled at the back of the car, as if I—the viewer, the spectator—was there along with them, on a journey. After the more than 2-hour ride of watching the film, I was drained and empty.

The experience allowed us to be in the awareness of the characters and their struggles, thus tiring. The dialogue and the different frames and actions in the film showcased how the characters seem to be problematic in a lot of different ways. They were not convincing in a sense that they could not embrace their full characters, showing hints of conflict brewing up internally.

Sandro, for example, faces the conflict of being Anna’s lover but he had troubles satisfying his sexual needs at the time when Anna was missing. His persona, being the missing woman’s lover, was challenged in the process. Eventually, somehow he has managed to lose the side of his character being Anna’s lover in a certain sense, confirming that his character shows no insistence or strength to fully embrace the character. In the case of Claudia, she faces an identity crisis throughout the film. From the beginning, she has always stayed by the side of Anna. And, this was somehow challenged when Anna was gone. There was struggle as to who she would be, and she manages to lose her own and mirror Anna instead. This is seen in numerous instances—the clothes and all. They were unconvincing, as if they themselves want to leave their own characters, which is a possibility given their backgrounds. This could explain how they sort of want an escape from a seemingly socio-political structure that they are boxed in.

Ultimately, L’Avventura shows manifestations of a truly innovative and visionary film. It was not like any film that I have seen. Sometimes though I feel as if there is a misalignment of what the intent of some scenes are to their overall effect. There was not a story being developed in the story, instead the film dug deeper into characters and into the setting through the unusual, blatant, somehow candid sounds and through the angles showcasing the landscapes and the zoomed-in faces of the characters.

L’Avventura is indeed tiring, probably to most or to a lot of spectators. It is exhausting for the mind, for the typical viewer who tries to think, who tries to connect the different scenes into one cohesive story arc that makes sense. But, it is not the intent of the film to narrate a typical storyboard that followed the normal paradigm. The film is designed to catch your attention, to capture your senses—your sight, your hearing, so that somehow you would feel and you would be part of, as the title of the film goes, the adventure. Though tiring and exhausting, it was indeed an adventure that was one of a kind.

A sense of being and nothingness

Michaelangelo Antonioni’s stunning black and white film is a great representation of what the 60’s era with the sharp-looking characters in their lavish costumes was all about, which allows a person to easily identify the era it was set in. A few minutes into the film it gets you thinking whether or not this is a love story, or merely just two individuals seeking pleasure, and just that. Sexual relations seem to be their way of “coping” or just a means of passing the time, and the feeling seem to be mutual for both parties. The first thing that comes into mind a few minutes into the film is that the relationship dynamics of the characters seem be lacking. Just a bunch of individuals with money somehow finding a way to fill in the emptiness they have inside. As a matter a fact, the film had a different take on filling the emptiness within. The characters seemed to be mindless and unwilling of anything. However, one comes to realize how the film successfully depicts their journey as they face the experience of inner turmoil and unrest and find a way to fill the void in their lives. 

L’avventura meaning “The Adventure” in English is quite oxymoronic for me. Because nothing monumental really happens throughout the film, just very minimal drama. There was no drastic “rise” and “fall” of events. It also seemed to be missing certain values that must be upheld, especially with how they poorly managed Anna’s mysterious vanishing. Anna just disappears all of a sudden shortly after going ashore, no traces, no clues, while her supposed best friend, Claudia, takes centre stage and aiming to gain the affection of her Anna’s boyfriend during their quest of looking for Anna. They are passionate lovers all of a sudden. No conclusion is even given, it just sort of ends— no resolution. She is just forgotten.  There are very minimal details given out. It did not have a close ending nor a happy ending but rather, an empty one.

However, this film has a cutting edge in the view of the fact that it has the potential to surprise and amaze its viewers with a better understanding each time they would watch it again. Watching it the first time around, the audience could be questioning the true motivations of the film and the characters themselves. There could always be a new discovery or unearthing of an interpretation, more questions could arise. There is always gratification and amusement in finding out what it is truly about. The audience is given a role in trying to interpret and give meaning to the series of events, not to mention the lack of information presented. Moreover, it was able to portray a great deal of allurement and grandeur as to the way the camera moved and the angles shot, which allowed the audience to be fully cognizant of the true emotional states of the characters.

Justifying the title itself, the plot was quite adventurous for a movie in the 60’s, which often than not, followed almost the same narratives with idealised portrayal of love and romantic relationships. This film was definitely daring for that time, it is not exactly the adventure that we know of, but it is rather a strange one. 

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L’Avventura: Emotions in an Existential World

Brooding and Self-pitying, Michaelangelo Antonioni’s 1960’s film, L’Avventura, showcases the uneasy reality of civilized love in an Existential world. At first, one might think that the film would revolve around Anna, Sandro’s suddenly-missing fiance, as she goes missing and the characters try their best to find her and, in doing that, unintentionally starts drama and have realizations about Anna’s true character and intentions – much like in Gone Girl and Pretty Little Liars. However, a dig deeper in the film, especially as it progresses, makes the audience realize that the film dedicates itself to revealing gender politics, especially in Italian 1960’s, and the inner loneliness and turmoil that the characters have as they find their places in discovering meaning from their empty lives. At first, it was confusing why, in some parts of the film, the characters would randomly do things that would get others’ attention. For instance, Anna makes up a story that a shark was swimming near them, consequently forcing everyone to panic and go back to their boat. However, when she was asked by Claudia why she did that, she merely shrugs and says, “Because.” There was also an instance when Sandro intentionally ruins an art piece by spilling ink all over it. This caused the young artist to get mad at him and tries to pick a fight with him, with Sandro nonchalantly saying, “Why would I do that?” In persepective, they may have done these “random,” mischievious actions, because, as stated before, in their dull, meaningless, and lonely lives, maybe they wanted some spice and excitement in their lonely, bleak lives.  

The film would also exhibit men in different life stages. There was the 17-year-old prince who paints nothing other than nude pictures of women, Sandro, a romantic marrying-age man, Giovanni, a married man who ignores his wife, Anna’s father, a retired diplomat, and unforgettably, the hordes of men that tend to flock over pretty women like Claudia and the woman who had a rip in the hem of her skirt. A common denominator on most of these men is their exhibition of lust and their desire to find the “ideal” partner. This is with the exeption on Anna’s retired father, who’s now sole focus is his daughter. However, again with the exception of Anna’s father, the depiction of these men with their active libido may have foreshadowed what Sandro did in the last part of the film. Furthermore, Sandro’s advances with Claudia was a red flag. For one, he is technically still engaged to Anna even though she is missing. Second, his advances show that he may have already forgotten about Anna, despite him telling Claudia that he did love Anna. This may indicate that Sandro may have not loved Anna anymore even when Anna was not yet missing — or he did not love her at all, especially when he begrudgingly told Anna that he was marrying her. Furthermore, his quick pace of moving on from Anna with Claudia, as well as his nonchalantness with the affair may indicate that he had already done it before, especially since he and Anna only saw each other every couple of months. This is why it was not surprising when he was revealed to have cheated on Claudia after the party — even though Claudia was surprised about it.

What frustrated me, however, was how the women in the film were controlled by their emotions. Although she initially tried to ignore it, Claudia eventually started a full-blown affair with Sandro. Furthermore, although at the start of the film, she was hell-bent on finding Anna, the latter part of the film portrayed how Claudia did not want Anna to be found anymore as she was scared that Sandro would leave her for his unofficial former lover. Moreover, when Claudia found out that Sandro cheated on her, she was distraught — one would even think she would end their relationship once Sandro caught up with her. However, when Claudia saw a weeping Sandro, she caressed his back as if saying that she forgives him. This can be seen as idealistic, as it usually happens in real life – people cheat, and their partners usually forgive them when they show emotions. This, however, portrays how Claudia can be swept by emotions, neglecting the reason regarding the events that had occurred. Giulia was also swept by her emotions. In her loneliness and frustration from being ignored by her husband, she slept with the 17-year-old prince.

Conclusively, L’Avventura is a lot of things, but overall, it is a film that depicts the loneliness and bleakness of the life of characters, however rich the characters may be, as they struggle to achieve the “ideal” life, mostly through romance. I would say that I liked the film, however, it morally disturbed me through its dramatics and its characters’ lack of values due to the shallowness of their lifestyles—which I think is what it is trying to achieve.

The Not-So-Adventure

Honored at the 1960 Cannes International Film Festival for “a new movie language and the beauty of its images” – L’avventura by Michelangelo Antonioni is one of the most legendary films made in the 1960’s. A vast audience might say otherwise, given that it can be superficially perceived as merely just a film that reveled in stunning black and white images. Moreover, the film was populated by attractive actors, oozing in sex appeal, such as Gabriele Ferzetti, Monica Vitti, and Lea Massari. With its dazzling aesthetics, it can always be mistaken as just that.

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With regards to the plot, it may seem as if things were left out in the open, unfinished and unresolved. This may have led to the audience’s frustration and disappointment because it is a usual element for films to have a closure and a clear path along a series of events. Critiques find the plot to be uneventful with very much a slow pacing. However, Antonioni, broke the rules of cinema’s standards so elegantly by establishing great scenes despite its unconventionality and downtempo.

One great feature in the film is its visuals as praised by many. It is rare to find such camera power to magnify the emotional sterility of the film and to capture the vast loneliness of the characters desperately searching for satisfaction in the wrong places.

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The film potentializes the conflict to revolve around Anna’s disappearance leading people to think that there is a certain “something” to be solved. However, the film would later on show that there is no actual answer and instead, focuses on the other characters, leaving the mystery to remain a mystery until the end of screening. Given that there is actually nothing to wait for, this film might seem like a waste of time.

But once, one realizes that its nothingness- be it the shallowness of the elites, the emptiness of their hearts and souls and the desolate vacancy that desires to be occupied- one realizes that this is everything the film wants to deliver.

This would lead people to think- Was the disappearance of Anna really necessary to have catapulted the growing sexual tensions between Sandro and Claudia? – or was it just a random starting point to show that even in the most challenging times such a woman who happens to be a best friend and a lover, was missing in the island- that nothing would ever actually matter for wealthy, bored and spoiled elites? 

This film straightforwardly shoots its message right through the screen- that often times, pleasure is the one instrument that momentarily distracts people from the pernicious lassitude of their existence and it does not matter if their decisions hurt anybody because people are always too sorry for themselves to even be sorry for their actions.

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With nostalgic Sicilian strummings and nervewracking, edgy percussive beats, the film exhibits the rich unending landscape of both reality and fiction. With an absolutely contemporary setting, the film stands tenacious with its norm-defying openess and experimentation. With a plot consisting of nothingness rooted from the everythingness of contemporary internal issues of modern day elites, new generations of work has followed such directions, leading L’avventura to leave a mark in the post neorealist scene.

 

Continue reading “The Not-So-Adventure”

“How long will they last?”: L’Avventura (1960)

dir. Michaelangelo Antioni

“Who needs beautiful things now, Claudia? How long will they last?”

From the waves crashing violently against the rocks of a secluded island to the lavishly decorated halls of an Italian hotel, cinematographer Aldo Scavarda paints a picture of loneliness and ennui that reflects the inner turmoil of L’Avventura’s characters. Antioni has a great way of staging two of his characters in which one of them is far off and another one walks into the shot, creating a sense of depth that somehow makes it seem like these people are being swallowed by their surroundings. They’re visually beautiful and yet they still feel empty.

Entitled L’Avventura or The Adventure, I was fooled into thinking that this would be a Gone Girl-esque thriller in which the characters slowly uncover the truth behind Anna’s disappearance. From the very beginning, she is presented as an enigma. She’s indecisive, brash, and does everything out of whim. We focus on her when in reality, this story is about everyone else.

The adventure here isn’t about finding Anna, it’s about these characters looking for the next new thing that would pique their interest. None of them are fully satisfied. Their lives are empty and meaningless. Anna makes up a story about a shark that worries her companions. For what reason? She shrugs, “Because”. Sandro finds a stranger’s artwork and ruins it with ink. When duly accused of doing it deliberately, he’s nonchalant about it, “Why would I do that?”. In the span of 3 days after Anna’s disappearance, Sandro claims to be in love with her best friend as he slowly loses motivation to find her. Just like an ancient vase, possibly priceless, shattered with no care at all. It’s interesting until it’s gone, and they move on.

Interest is fleeting, just like everything else. All those empty buildings. That cemetery. Nothing is forever and these characters can only hope to find something that would give their lives a semblance of meaning, even just for a moment in time.

“I don’t feel you anymore.”

I really wish that I liked this movie more than I actually did. I love that it’s shot beautifully and I appreciate the story that it’s trying to convey. I think the mood that this movie has captured the feeling of ennui perfectly. However, I felt so detached to the plot and the characters that I had a hard time fully enjoying it as I was watching.

I was also very uncomfortable with the way this film treats its female characters, although that may be the point. They’re strong in their own right but it doesn’t seem to be enough as the men constantly belittle them. Giulia is often ridiculed by her husband which leads her to basking in the attention of a 17-year old boy. Anna’s worries are dismissed by her father and her fiancé, and altogether forgotten. This might just be an assumption but there’s a scene in this movie which I think inspired a scene from another Italian movie: Giuseppe Tornatore’s Malena (2000). Claudia waits for Sandro outside of a shop where he asks for information on Anna and immediately, a great deal of men unabashedly gawk at her, overwhelming her until she runs away. My best guess is that Antioni is trying to show these women as objects of interest as well, something that men get tired of and discard, judging by the scenes of the cheating chemist and his wife. Whatever it is, I feel like I’m missing something which I might get on a rewatch but for now, I don’t fully understand why this is necessary to the movie’s thesis.

This doesn’t mean that I’m giving up on Antioni’s films. Blow-Up (1966), which seems to be one of his most popular, has been in my watchlist for the longest time and I’m excited to see how his style translates to this murder mystery.


The ending is hauntingly beautiful. Sandro weeps on a bench as Claudia looks to the sea. They’re both tired. Gently, she reaches towards him and caresses his hair. As far as they’re concerned, nothing is alright but they seem to have made their peace with it.

“Everything is becoming hideously simple.”

Viva L’Avventura

L’Avventura (d. Michelangelo Antonioni, 1960)

Prior to watching the film, I remember being warned in class that L’Avventura was going to be one of the more so-called ‘pretentious’ European movies. And admittedly, when I first started the film, I was instantly intimidated by its lengthy runtime. However, two hours later, I was pretty much surprised that I had just sat through a nearly two and a half hour film without breaking a sweat and it felt like it just flew past by. This is because L’Avventura, more than anything, is almost like a dream watching it. It is black and white, yet the sceneries and environment feel distinctly colorful, there is a central mystery to the plot, and yet the film effortlessly focuses on things outside of the core mystery without the mystery ever feeling truly diminished.

While the plot initially seems to focus on the mysterious (and unexplained) disappearance of Anna, it soon transcends into being a plot about a couple that was unsatisfied with their relationship finding an out. Anna found her ‘out’ by disappearing, and Sandro found his ‘out’ through the form of Claudia, who he ‘falls in love’ with. The reason why ‘falls in love’ is written with a quotation is because the film actually is less of a love story and more of a showcase of dissatisfied people desperately clinging to things in an attempt to find satisfaction. Almost everyone in the film is rich but has nothing substantial to make themselves truly happy. And that is the silent tragedy of the film.

While Sandro may appear to be in love with Anna, the first chance he gets, he ends up going for her best friend Claudia. While Claudia may appear to be fully dedicated to finding Anna, the first chance she gets when she thinks Sandro has found her, she runs away in a panic, conflicted over her dedication to her best friend and her attraction to Sandro. When Sandro appears to want to marry Claudia, she refuses, but then accidentally rings a bell and has a grand time dancing, with Sandro amused at her and the two appearing to be in love. The Sandro-Claudia relationship seems to consist of nothing but mixed messages, and that really sums up the film – it is not only about a mystery unsolved, it is also about a love story that never truly was.

The perfect personification of this central theme of the film is actually its final scene. After everything they’ve been through, Claudia finally confronts her feelings by admitting that she’s afraid should Anna return because it would mean losing Sandro. But despite this supposed mutual attraction, Sandro still decides to check out other women and Claudia even catches him with Gloria Perkins. In shock and sadness, Claudia runs away to cry, and an equally tearful Sandro follows her. In this final scene, both of these characters are crying, both for what may be different reasons. Claudia is crying because she is hurt, and yet she may also be crying upon realizing that this relationship is something that is clearly unfeasible, something that is only useful for the moment and nothing long-term. Sandro is crying not only because he got caught, but because he may have finally realized that no matter what he does, he can never truly be committed to a proper relationship. The closing shot of the film is Anna placing her hand on top of Sandro’s head, both still in tears, as the sight of a beautiful mountain can be seen in the background. This, I believe, is what the movie is showing. There are beautiful sights, there are wonderful auditory noises throughout, but the central core of it, its heart, similar to its main characters, is empty. It is nothing. It never was about love and was always purely about what was convenient and enjoyable short-term.

All-in-all, L’Avventura is a wonderful film. While personally it’s not a film that I would be too keen on seeing again (mainly because of its heavy ending), as it stands it is a beautifully-shot and shockingly realistic view on relationships and the complications they bring.

gone but certainly not forgotten

Of the three films we’ve watched in class, L’Avventura has been my favorite so far. It was a movie that captured the beautiful Italy, with all it’s cobblestone roads, open balconies, and far away towns. The women in the cast looked stylish with their rich Italian dresses, matching perfectly with each character’s personality and background. Unlike Bergman’s Persona, L’Avventura was a film that I think was meant to be filmed in color, showing off the scenes attached with all its emotions. Other than its impressive aesthetics and cinematography, the plot kept me intrigued. When the film started off with the mysterious disappearance of a woman, I was hopeful that it would be as great as the renowned Gone Girl (2014) movie, with the audience trying to unravel the case of whether she had died or simply walked away. It was about halfway through the movie when I realized that it wasn’t about the search for Anna—not entirely. For the most part, L’Avventura was about the egocentric affair of two people and the lavish, yet seemingly predictable, lives of their friends.

After Anna had disappeared on the island, everyone spent all of 3 days searching for her. It wasn’t long until Sandro became enamored by Claudia and kissed her on the boat. But it wasn’t just these two who didn’t seem to care much for Anna’s whereabouts, but their entire group of friends. Each couple too preoccupied with their own problems to even mourn for Anna, instead moving on almost instantly with parties and sex. Claudia was the most concerned, but only until she decided to choose her affair with Sandro over Anna’s life. Halfway through the film, when Sandro and Claudia finally decide to be together, was the start of the decline of the memory of Anna. The film wasn’t about finding Anna anymore. Anna was forgotten. She started to fade into the background, but was still present enough to haunt the two lovers, especially Claudia.

Arguably, Claudia was a romantic at heart, she just wanted to fit in like all her friends, but she was still riddled with guilt. I think Claudia was even jealous of Anna, with the way she waited for Anna and Sandro after they had sex at the start of the movie and when she was trying on the brunette wig. When she finally had Sandro, we can tell how much had changed: “Only a few days ago, only at the thought that Anna might be dead, I felt that I could have died too. Now I won’t even cry. I am afraid she might be alive!” On the other hand, Sandro didn’t even seem to be really bothered by Anna’s disappearance, he was easily distracted and veered away from his mission to find Anna as soon as Claudia arrived. Their moral compasses were unsound, operating mostly on what they thought was love. It’s easy for me to say that both the characters were selfish. Despite this, it was also their characters that made me love the film. Frustration with them shows just how affected I was with the movie, how much I clung to its story, immersed in the experience.

While I’m a sucker for romantic movies where the girl and the guy fall in love with each other against all odds, I knew that this movie was not it. While Anna and Sandro didn’t have a great relationship, I can’t say that Claudia and Sandro did either. They could clearly only be together when they were alone in their bubble, a relationship hinged on physicality—joint together by sex. It was a desperate attempt to be in love and avoid loneliness. L’Avventura was barely a love story, but rather a story of two people too scared to be alone, too scared to face the reality of possibly having lost a friend, and instead they reach out to one another.

“The hopeless dream of being”: Persona (1966)

dir. Ingmar Bergman

Bergman is such a big name in the industry and I’ve personally always wanted to see one of his movies to see what all the ‘hype’ was about. Now that I have, I can say that I don’t think I was ready for this film nor do I think I ever will be. I mean, where do I even begin?

That opening sequence had teeth. We see quick flashes of moving celluloid and various instances of graphic violence. The camera lingers on a particularly gruesome moment: several seconds dedicated to a closeup of a crucifixion; a hand bleeding profusely from a nail being driven right through it. It’s a quick-fire montage that serves as an attack to the senses. Unforgiving, unflinching, in-your-face goodness. It sets the tone for the rest of the movie and it’s just like what people say about car wrecks. It’s horrific but you can’t bring yourself to look away.

The narrative begins with a surreal quality to it, opting for a bare bones production design and instead focusing on the actors’ performances. Bergman chooses to train his camera mostly on faces, seeing how his characters react and deliver their dialogue. Majority of the film is focused on two characters: Alma (Bibi Andersson) and Elizabeth (Liv Ullman), who he mostly places in shots together. The characters often face the camera, almost looking into the lens but never fully. We see the eyes — windows to the soul — but never in their entirety. Bergman plays with lighting to ensure that for the most part, one of their faces is covered in shadows. In film, this often signifies secrecy and we later find out why.

Elizabeth is an actress turned apathetic to her surroundings. Someone who supposedly relates and understands everyone else in order to play their roles chooses to turn her back on the world and its horrors. There is nothing medically wrong with her, her apathy is a conscious decision. There is a determination behind it which Alma recognizes, realizing that she may not be strong enough for it. Alma is her nurse and at first, is somewhat presented as Elizabeth’s antithesis. Alma is optimistic, choosing to see the beauty with the life that she is given. But she has her own doubts, her own fears, and own insecurities which slowly consume her.

“The chasm between what you are with others and what you are alone.”

These two people are then secluded in an island together. Although one of them doesn’t speak, there is a connection between the two. French philosopher Emmanuel Levinas claims that the face of the other is the key to human consciousness. (I’d like to take this moment to thank my PH102 professor for giving me something to add to this review.) Alma is honest and raw when she sees Elizabeth as a mirror. Alma confesses her deepest secrets to Elizabeth and she lets it all out because she feels that there is no judgement whatsoever. When she later finds out that Elizabeth may only be studying her, her feelings instantly shift. Alma’s paranoia switches to her and she spirals out of control. She becomes hostile towards Elizabeth, even going as far as letting her get hurt by a shard of glass, becoming the opposite of her role as Elizabeth’s nurse.

Their differences feels smaller. This is Elizabeth’s retreat but it is Alma who undergoes a more significant transformation. Who then is the patient and who is the nurse? Who is treating who?

The climax of the film is a lengthy dialogue about Elizabeth’s past. The scene repeats to show the reactions of both women. It ends with both of their faces merged in one image. There is a blurring of identities. Although initially different, they have the same fears at their core. Elizabeth turns away from them while Alma chooses to face them and live with that knowledge.

The ending leaves the viewer with several questions. Are both of these women real, or is one of them just a figment of imagination of the other? There are two scenes that may be used for this theory. Only Alma leaves the island. Earlier on, Elizabeth’s husband mistakes Alma for Elizabeth. His eyes are covered by heavily tinted shades so it’s possible that it means that he’s not really seeing. Whatever it may be, there are no answers here.

Although very different, this film reminds me of ‘Under the Skin’ (2013) in the sense that they have a few similar themes, have the same uncomfortable/upsetting feeling all throughout, and they leave the viewers with more questions than answers. If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend that you give it a watch.

Overall, I’m still confused (haha). I don’t understand all of it but I still really enjoyed it. Both actresses deliver great performances, with Andersson delivering majority of the lines and having to carry most of the dialogue while Ullmann does her best to express using only her facial expressions. One thing I found really interesting is that this film passes the Bechdel test despite one of the characters having only around 2 lines of dialogue. Definitely would give this one a rewatch but not any time soon.

“I think I could turn into you if I really tried. From the inside.”

silent, eerie, and lost

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After watching Ingmar Bergman’s Persona, I could understand why many critics would describe the film as either a psychological horror or psychological drama. Yet, as I tried to explain the plot of Persona to my friend who hasn’t watched it, I realized it was hard to encapsulate the horror or thriller aspect of the story, because when you think about it, there was nothing particularly scary about it. I ended up just telling my friend, “basta… it was just such a strange movie…” And I don’t think I was completely wrong.

Persona starts off with a montage of disturbing footages, which were often obscure, hard to make out images, and sometimes sexually explicit. A boy waking up in a morgue walks up to a giant screen and sees the blurred image of two women. The film proceeds with the rest of the movie, revolving around Alma, a nurse, and Elisabet, an actress who suddenly went silent. On the surface level, the film was minimalist, with two, maybe three, characters in the whole film, but it’s acting, lighting, script, and other elements made it much more complex and mysterious. As I mentioned earlier, there was nothing particularly scary about Persona, but it also became a perfect example of a horror movie—without the cheap scares and jump shots, with no over-the-top blood-gushing-out-of-wounds scenes, no serial killers, ghosts, nor monsters. Just the frightening loss of one’s own identity—which is arguably one of the scariest things that could happen to a human.

It was a story of two seemingly different women, one a nurse and one a silent patient, who come together in a household and grow so close together that their identities blur and merge. This central theme was foreshadowed constantly, from Alma telling Elisabet how much they look alike and if she tried hard enough, she could be Elisabet, to Alma sleeping with Elisabet’s husband who mistakes her as his wife. In a quite literal take, the scene where Bergman would combine half of each other’s faces or superimpose the two faces, morphing them into one, showed this same loss of identity—of Alma becoming Elisabet.

It was another silent-esque film. The dialogue was almost non-existent, but the communication was there, just manifested differently through facial expressions, body language, and the score. Alma’s storytelling was so strong and raw; offering a different view on motherhood as a burden. The film was eerie, tense, and charged with so much emotions—fear, anger, love, and grief. Even as I’m writing this post, I’m still not entirely sure what was real in the film and what was not. The film remains a mystery to me, but it also leaves me wanting more. Persona is considered by some as one of the greatest films ever made, and it’s evident that it inspired many future film makers. Overall, Persona was a film that moved you. Shook you. Disturbed you. Which is essentially what a film is meant to do, to move the audience, either positively or negatively.