Just perfect...

everything you have heard about this movie is true.

The film makes a home in your brain and the only cure is to see it again.

The best films of this genre always show a path and provide a takeaway for being a better person.

Second viewing, no change. Ingmar Bergman's provocative think piece about the indifference of human suffering remains a classic both in its stylistic direction and timeless struggles. In the opening minutes of "Persona," a film reel of harsh and graphic imagery flash across the screen like a montage of life's most idiosyncratic creations. It is the crescendo that leads into a world that will feel just as mysterious and raw. Bergman's dialogue is entrancing in its theatrical yet subdued nature, often turning seemingly unimportant conversations into scenes that play into a larger change in dynamic and *persona.* After two viewings though, it would be interesting to have Liv Ullmann's character, Elisabet, to say a few words. Nevertheless, the experimental use of dolly zooms and camera blending make the ordinary staging of the film look as though it could be made tomorrow. There's nothing quite like Bergman's "Persona," thereby earning its place on all of the "must watch" lists that always have it as one of the top placements.

The movie fits well at the beginning of a new year. The two woman reminds me of the two faces of a Janus. Janus was a roman god related to ends and beginnings. It was the door between them. Januari is derived from that. People here come to a full circle and afterwards they move on. It's easy to see that the much more bombastic film Ofret by Tarkovsky was an ode to this film.

The movie opens with a series of unconnected and somewhat disturbing images - the shearing of a sheep, a nail pounded into a victim's hand a la the crucifixion, dead people on slabs in a mortuary. Quick edits over the opening credits additionally lend a surreal flavor to the picture, so that we have no idea what's coming. If one were to view the opening montage once again after the picture concludes, one might be willing to connect the teenage boy to Elisabet Vogler (Liv Ullman) as the son she bore who she wants no part of. One will have to decide.It seems to me this is the kind of film that's open to one's interpretation in the most personal of ways. Having read a few of the reviews for this movie, there are multiple thoughts on the film that appear just as valid as mine might be, some that even contradict each other. For this viewer, the dynamic between Elisabet and Sister Alma (Bibi Andersson) forces the caretaker to confront her own insecurities about life. In Elisabet, Alma foresees for herself a failed marriage, children she doesn't want, and abandoning a job that she likes for the sole reason of fitting into a society that expects those things from a woman.It's interesting how Ingmar Bergman's direction offers ambiguity in various scenes. When Lisabet tears up the picture of her son, does Alma witness that or not? When Mr. Vogler arrives he speaks to Alma as if she were his wife, leaving her in a state of confusion. However one of the principal ideas coming out of the film, that the personas of Lisabet and Alma are somehow merging together is one that never crossed my mind, even with the camera tricks of melding the two faces together. As I say, one will have their own thoughts and ideas about what occurs in the story, and who's to say that any one or another is valid or invalid? It's all open to interpretation.What elevates the picture to the rank of pure cinema can be found in it's artistic style and bold cinematography. Notwithstanding the early garish images, the film remains austere throughout with minimal backgrounds. The hospital room and the summer beach house are starkly furnished, as the camera focuses principally on the two women throughout. The story is an existentialist expression of it's director, and if one concentrates on the observation of The Doctor directly to patient Lizabeth, one might catch Bergman's elusive goal, to capture "the hopeless dream of being, not seeming, but being".

PERSONA is a psychological drama that, with a strong emotion examines the relationship between an older mental patient and her pretty but lonely nurse. This is a film about the identity, self-centeredness, sex, lesbianism, motherhood and madness. The characters are very intimate, so that, a boundary of reality, in longing and despair, becomes a nightmare and a distorted picture in the mirror.The story revolves around a young nurse named Alma and her patient, a well-known actress named Elisabet Vogler. Elisabet is a stage actress who has suddenly fallen silent and still, although the doctors have determined it is not a result of physical illness or hysteria, but willpower. Alma is somehow fascinated with her patient. The doctor decides Elisabet will recover better in a cottage by the sea, and sends Alma and Elisabet there. A very strange relationship develops between the two women in this isolated environment...Mr. Bergman has put a very complex problems in a relatively simple framework. The research of an identity starts from the elemental drama, through visual poetry and dark fiction, to modern psychological analysis.The beginning of the film is outstanding, Mr. Bergman has managed to disrupt an illusion of reality with some dark symbols including a crucifixion. It is important that impressions are different. That is the point of this melodic game between the desire, repression and insanity. The atmosphere is in an opposite contrast with the environment.Liv Ullmann as Elisabet is the silent patient. Her reactions are a distorted reflection on her beautiful face. Her lips analyze and test. Bibi Andersson as Alma is a nurse who often leads monologues in which she lacks at a word on the other side. Just one word uttered by her patient will scare away the fog that slowly descends between them. However, words slowly dying, while her lips move in fear of a truth.