Classic Review: Persona (1966)

Upon watching Persona for the first time, it was absolutely dazzling. Liv Ullmann and Bibi Andersson were transcendent, the playful use of mood lighting and its tone of self importance were all qualities that seemed immensely appealing.

After watching more and more Ingmar Bergman films over the following days, it was hard to not go back and revise and question that opinion. Following another viewing, the film generated a more mixed response. Ullmann’s ability to portray an essentially enigmatic, unknowable woman, was still awe-worthy but one can’t help but find themselves bristled against some of the more self consciously ‘artsy’ aspects of the production. In other words, it is very similar to every other Bergman film. Though the cinematography, the performances and the sparseness of the shot compositions are there, there are times when he goes out on a limb and includes an unbearably pretentious scene that tarnishes the entire film. 

In the case of Persona, it is a scene in which Alma (Andersson), a young nurse, describes a sexual experience that she had, to her patient Elisabet (Ulllmann). Alma is treating Elisabet for a psychosomatic condition which has caused her to stop speaking or moving and Alma will regularly open up to Elisabet, in order to form a closer bond with her. Alma is initially presented as a nervous, withdrawn woman who doesn’t like to broach sensitive topics. The scene is presumably supposed to make it clear that she feels such a deep sense of comfort around this woman that she would feel compelled to let her know something that could be potentially embarrassing. On one level, she wants to encourage Elisabet to open up and gain her trust and acceptance. On another level, she feels a sense of freedom around Elisabet because she believes their arrangement is temporary and nothing that she says or does will have serious repercussions. This means that there are stakes in this scene and Alma has complicated motivations for launching into her monologue. 

This scene could have been perfectly fine, but everybody involved in it, tries to make too much of it. Andersson delivers all of her lines in an artificial tone and uses the sort of deliberate pauses that a first-year drama student might employ. She loses the severity and quiet ambition that seemed to define her character in earlier scenes. Yes, this is meant to be out of character for her, but there should still be some consistency in the way that her character behaves. This scene would have been more powerful if we could feel this character fighting against her natural instincts as she makes this bold move. Andersson also has to deal with the way that the monologue has been written.

Nothing about it feels authentic and this immediately turned me off. This woman is supposed to be baring her soul and we are meant to be amazed by her bravery. When she’s speaking in the style of an intellectual who has found the most pompous manner in which to discuss desire. It always feels as though the person who wrote it is just posturing and aiming to impress you with the fact that they can talk about a controversial topic without getting all hot under the collar. There is something so show-offy about the way that the whole scene is carried off and it set me on edge.

The best sections of Persona draw their power out of the rawness of the character’s emotions and the passivity of Bergman’s camerawork. The delicacy of his close-ups and his use of long takes, give it a dreamlike quality that only make it more disturbing. When Alma learns that Elisabet has betrayed her, the camerawork isn’t dramatically altered to imply that this is now a thriller of sorts. Both of these women are still stuck in a state of torpor because nothing that they do has any real meaning. Bergman has viewers fall under his spell with slowly paced scenes and occasional cutaways to the natural environment that surrounds these women, or seemingly unrelated imagery that ties into the content of following scenes.

It is this mood that becomes the most immersive aspect of the picture and it becomes hard to tear your eyes away from some of the images on screen. There are some mesmerizing shots that do have the ability to profoundly move you. I could not help but be stunned by the famous shot of Elisabet grinning girlishly in the aftermath of having seriously hurt Alma. It’s imagery like that which cemented Persona’s place as a favorite of arthouse cinema fans. 

still courtesy of Criterion

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Zita Short

I am passionate about screwball comedies from the 1930s and certain actresses from the Golden Age of Hollywood. I’ll aim to review new Netflix releases and write features, so expect a lot of romantic comedies and cult favourites.