Persona is a 1966 film directed by Ingmar Bergman. The 90-degree stare dominates the film, often featuring solo close-ups.
In the plot, nurse Alma is assigned to care for a patient, Elizabet. Elizabet is not a famous actress but the patient, who is silent and numb. The hospital setting, the case presentations given to nurses by psychiatrists, and her earnest speeches about the terrible burden of "being" all hint at the actress's serious mental illness. he needs to undergo therapy, including understanding her and repairing her injuries. When Alma first came into contact with Elizabet, she suspected that the conditions were a conscious and rational decision by Elizabet. Alma even wondered if she would be able to cope with the mental and emotional strength. For better treatment, the doctor arranges Alma and Elizabet to live in a villa by the sea for some time.
Through the Audio bridge, the scene shifts from the hospital to the island of recuperation. From this moment on, it can be said that Elizabet and Alma's declared identities as patients and therapists begins to change. Living on the island, Alma regards the silent Elizabet as a qualified listener and confesses her secret after drinking. But the next day, Alma sees Elizabet say her sin in the letter to the doctor, and said “it is interesting to study her.” Harmony breaks down, but a deeper relationship — mask and mirroring — emerges.
At 1:06:58-1:14:20 in the movie, Alma and Elizabet seem to be engaged in a duel of identity. They sat opposite each other at the table. Show the same monologue from both Alma and Elizabet's point of view through camera shifts. In this long close-up, they maintain a similar expression, which even makes them look stiff. Two repetitive monologues convince the audience that this is two parts of a person. Face-to-face questioning is more like talking to themselves: the lively persona speaks for the silent true me. Alma knew Elizabet better than Elizabet herself. Through her thinking, she derived Elizabet's past and her relationship with her son. She recounts Elizabet's story in detail: because some people said she lacked "motherhood," she chose to become pregnant; After pregnancy, how to hope the baby die, and how to hate her own son... In this scene, the director darkens the colours and then side by side with their faces: the silent face facing the true self. At that moment, Alma is Elizabet, and half of their faces merge into one. The "persona" speaks directly to the "real me" visually.
In addition, Coates (2012, pp169) thought that the left side of the face is more expressive and better at communicating emotions, and in humans, the left side of the face has an area that affects speech and hearing. Then its indicator may be to pretend to be deaf and dumb. Dramatically, Alma feels engulfed by Elizabet's image and protested “I’m not like you. I don’t feel the same way you do. I’m Sister Alma. I’m only here to help you. I’m not Elizabet Vogler.” Then, A strong sense of dissonance masks the fading soundtrack, as half of Alma's face becomes Elizabet's, and their identities merge. Meanwhile, the division of faces has a strong irony. Elizabet's weakness can be seen through her attitude of avoiding answers and examining herself, but when her face is forced into Alma's face, it means that she is more aggressive and powerful (Coates, 2012, pp169).
Beyond that, contrary to the sense of integration that character studies usually create, the combined photo of Alma and Elizabet is a chaotic image of fragmentation. For example, when faced with the picture of her son, which were torn in half, Elizabet cried almost unnaturally, her tears crossed from top to bottom. There is also a pause in the later film, Alma's picture began to break vertically.
In fact, neither woman has any real personality. As complementary aspects of consciousness, it is more helpful to view Alma and Elizabet as couples. Bergman wants to create an image of a divided person, a divided identity, and then make the two parts ultimately irreconcilable (Barr, 1987, pp.130). Therefore, what is left to us is not a revelation to Elizabet or Alma, but a plot in the film—has its own setting, lighting, composition and special effects—about the complementary aspects of a dubiously combined personality. Consequently, the film's famous scene: The lighting reminds people of another, more airy and transparent hue: yarn, two doors, and the triangular composition of their virtually parallel bedroom enhance this ambiguity. Later close-ups, in which the mirror reflects the relationship between the two, the boundaries between the two men blend and become blurred, revealing intimate characters and expressions. Alma and Elizabet both stood in front of the mirror, Elizabet stroked Irma's face, and Alma stroked Elizabet's hair. When their profile overlaps, it's as if the two merges into one, persona and the "real me."
According to Blackwell (1996, pp.142): “The oscillation between illusion and reality, authentic ‘truth’ and fictive ‘lie’, is a fundamental theme in Persona.” It is only at the end of the film that all dreams are disconnected, the “’truth’’ returns. With this film, we're not sure if we're watching a thriller or a drama. Similarly, we can't be sure whether we're looking at Elizabet's face or Liy Ullmann's, Alma's or Bibi Andersson's. The boundary between reality and fiction has been largely erased.
References:
Barr, A. P. (1987). The Unraveling of Character in Bergman’s “Persona.” Literature/Film Quarterly, 15(2), 123–136.
Blackwell, M. J. (1996). Between Stage and Screen: Ingmar Bergman Directs. Scandinavian Studies, 68(2), 276.
Coates. P. (2012). Dissonance and Synthesis: Persona, the Face, the Mask and the Thing. Screening the Face (pp158-181). Canada: University of Western Ontario.