Tarkovsky amazed me again with a film that deviates from his already solid and legendary film-making style.

This films is far more surreal at times than some of his other films and strongly reminded me of some of Imgar Bergman's films at times. Though some may find the structure polarizing, I managed to follow the story-line of the film quite well. It revolved around an army man, his ex-wife, and their son, often time having the one actress portray both his ex-wife and mother.

The symbolism in the films is sublime and evokes some of Tarkovsky's strongest imagery ever. The characters in this films also feel stronger than his other films, giving us a stark look at the modern female working class woman in Russia.

Abandoning conventional narrative and technique, Tarkovsky attempts the very difficult task of making this film as a series of thoughts and memories, almost a daydream if you will, which flashes between different time periods and story threads with little sense of structure.

Describing the plot of the film is borderline impossible. It flutters between 1935, the 1940s, and the 1960s, and consists of the broken dreams and memories of a dying man.

Tarkovsky's film is incredibly personal and hard to understand, but it rewards repeat viewings and throws up many interesting ideas. It is a meditative film above all else, not expecting understanding on the part of the viewer, but instead encouraging them to step into the recollections of another and experience that person's thoughts and memories, taking from them what they will.

The Mirror is a brilliant film, unconventional and deep to be sure, but somehow captivating in spite of its difficult nature.

One of the most breathtaking cinematic experiences I have ever had. This film puts you in a trance and doesn`t snap you out of it until the end. I can tell this film requires more than one viewing and I am looking forward to re-watching. It has been a few days since my first viewing and I am still trying to wrap my mind around it. Tarkovsky is truly a master of his craft.

I'm still not a Tarkovsky convert, although I feel like that's more MY problem than anything having to do with his movies. This was beautiful and poetic and in many ways a representation of what real, great Cinema can do. This should have been my introduction to Tarkovsky, not Solaris. Still, it lost me at points with lack of structure and, at times, slow pacing, which makes me hesitant to give it the full 5-start treatment. But yes, I do objectively recognize how downright incredible this movie is. I hope that with repeat viewings (a necessity, it seems, in this case) and further exploration of his filmography (maybe Stalker next?), I'll come around. An experience, for sure.

this was my introduction to Tarkovsky, hooked ever since

Tarkovsky amazed me again with a film that deviates from his already solid and legendary film-making style.

This films is far more surreal at times than some of his other films and strongly reminded me of some of Imgar Bergman's films at times. Though some may find the structure polarizing, I managed to follow the story-line of the film quite well. It revolved around an army man, his ex-wife, and their son, often time having the one actress portray both his ex-wife and mother.

The symbolism in the films is sublime and evokes some of Tarkovsky's strongest imagery ever. The characters in this films also feel stronger than his other films, giving us a stark look at the modern female working class woman in Russia.

Abandoning conventional narrative and technique, Tarkovsky attempts the very difficult task of making this film as a series of thoughts and memories, almost a daydream if you will, which flashes between different time periods and story threads with little sense of structure.

Describing the plot of the film is borderline impossible. It flutters between 1935, the 1940s, and the 1960s, and consists of the broken dreams and memories of a dying man.

Tarkovsky's film is incredibly personal and hard to understand, but it rewards repeat viewings and throws up many interesting ideas. It is a meditative film above all else, not expecting understanding on the part of the viewer, but instead encouraging them to step into the recollections of another and experience that person's thoughts and memories, taking from them what they will.

The Mirror is a brilliant film, unconventional and deep to be sure, but somehow captivating in spite of its difficult nature.

La película inicia con la cura de un tartamudo. Blanco y negro. Ahora puede empezar a hablar.

El diálogo es escaso. La historia salta de un lado a otro. La imagen, sin necesidad de una declamación que trate de hilar todo, nos deja un testigo que funciona justo como la memoria. Y sabemos que hay más. Y se nos dice.

Tarkovsky, en mi opinión el más grande de todos, no voltea la cámara hacia él para hacer un film personal. Su vida, su poesía, queda plasmada en cada fotograma. El espejo no refleja nuestro rostro, no hay modo de hacer relación a primera vista.

Al reconocernos en el espejo, desaparece un elemento que nos permite no saltar desconcertados: la mirada como propiedad ajena. La película nos mira al mismo tiempo de mostrarse. Aparece una vida.

I clearly was not one of those people that understood the magnitude of this film. There are some nice shots, but even at an hour and forty minutes, this film is one of the slowest films I've ever watched. Didn't understand it at all. I'm giving this 1.5 due to all the work the camera operator had to do. But yeah, not for me.

An inscrutable visual poem that even with ten years more experience watching and decoding meanings in film, I am no closer to cracking, and to be honest, I don't much care to understand. I am not a Tarkovsky fan, however I can entirely appreciate the haunting beauty of The Mirror on a very superficial level, and just assume that for other people all of these moments mean something profoundly. On rewatch can see just how much Lars Von Trier was paying homage to this film with the look of Anti-Christ.