Persona review

 Number 172 on the top 1000 films of all time is Ingmar Bergman's psychological thriller Persona.

Alma (Bibi Andersson) is a nurse charged with looking after Elisabet Volgar (Liv Ullman) who has inexplicably become muter. Alma's matron believes Elisabet will better heal in a remote seaside cottage and send her and Alma there. Alma starts losing her minds as she finds it more and more difficult to distinguish between herself and Elisabet.

Film critic Thomas Elsaesser described Persona as "besides Citizen Kane, the most written about film in the canon," and it is easy to see why. Having watched The Seventh Seal, Wild Strawberries and Fanny and Alexander, I would characterise Bergman's films as classic arthouse that only diehard cinephiles would understand. Persona is no exception to this.

As the film begins, we are treated to an abstract collection of images including a tarantula, a crucifixion, all culminating with a young boy waking up in hospital. From there, we cut to Nurse Alma in the most minimalist hospital ever, being assigned her new charge of Elisabet. We then immediately see Alma's self-doubt about being able to care for her.

Things only get weirder when Alma and Elisabet move to the seaside cottage and Alma begins confiding in Elisabet about her own anxieties before eventually confessing to cheating on her husband by having an orgy with some teenage boys, one of them impregnating her which she later aborts. Elisabet then tells her that she should go to bed, but Alma dismisses this as a dream.

Upon delivering the mail, Alma reads a letter that Elisabet has written and find that her charge is silently studying and mocking her behaviour and a fight ensues. What was also interesting was Bergman's minimalist soundtrack. In pivotal scenes, such as the fight scene, where you might expect there to be music, Bergman solely employed silence. This did wonders for raising the suspense.

As did Bergman's minimalist style. Everything was so plain from the costumes to the interior set designs to even the seaside location. There was nothing there to distract you from the action happening on screen. 

As Alma's mental health deteriorates, she finds it harder to distinguish herself from Elisabet. At the film's conclusion, Elisabet's husband arrives and confuses Alma for his wife. Despite Alma initially correcting him, she eventually accepts her new identity and makes love with Mr Vogler. The film climaxes with Alma narrating Elisabet's tragic backstory. She became pregnant with Mr Vogler, but believing she lacked motherliness, she started hating her unborn child and repeatedly tried to abort it without success. When the child was born, she continued to hate it and prayed for its death.

The monologue is then repeated, but with the focus on Alma before a split screen shows both women's faces side-by-side, symbolising the changes of identity. Both women are also dressed very similarly in black dresses with the same hairstyle and they are very difficult to distinguish, all further symbolising Alma's deteriorating mind. After the monologue, Elisabet becomes completely catatonic and Alma later leaves with the camera showing that she is being filmed by a cameraman and a director. I thought that the two would undertake a full role reversal with Alma becoming catatonic and Elisabet regaining the ability to speak - whether she actually lost it in the first place is still up for debate.

As are many different aspects of this film. Why the imagery of the crucifixion? Why the footage of Buddist Monks self-imolating or the infamous Stroop Report photograph? Why did Alma force Elisabet to drink her blood? And why was Alma being filmed at the end? All of these questions and more have been analysed with no conclusive answer given. And I cannot offer any more answers here. For I am not a cinophile or film critic. I guess I liked the film, but it was also very surreal and very confusing. Instead, I'll concur with Bergman who has refused to give any concrete interpretations in favour of viewers making their own opinions.