Time, Memory and History, Analysis of Visual Aesthetic in Andrei Tarkovsky's "The Mirror"

The story plot of "Mirror" is very simple. It tells the story of a terminally ill man (in a sense, it is Andrei Tarkovsky himself) who, on his deathbed, reflects on his childhood, parents, wife, and children, as well as the dreams and memories of the era he lived in. These fragmented memories are meticulously crafted and arranged using a distinctive film language, resulting in the creation of a poetic cinematic experience.

In one particular scene, the protagonist's son recites a letter by Pushkin to a woman in black. The letter talks about how the Russian people resisted the threat of Western Christian civilization to Asian civilization but also became strangers in the Western world. This identity dilemma caused by a unique geographical location is the most important characteristic of the Russian nation, and Tarkovsky's film also reflects this conflict and integration.

Impact Of Europe: Borrowing Diverse Techniques

1. Expressionism

Expressionism in film originated in Germany in the 1920s. Its main characteristics include breaking the rules of perspective, exaggerating lines, colours, and contrasts, and emphasizing the intuitive perception and subjective creation of the artwork. It is subjective, highly emotional, and expressive, creating an extreme spiritual world.

For "Mirror," the use of expressionism is mainly reflected in the application of colour light, and shadow. It has a rich colour palette, not mechanically differentiating between the present and the past, reality, and imagination with black and white or colour, but presenting organically according to the psychological state. Some primary colours are extracted or diluted, showing a layer of blue-black, dark green, and dark brown tones, creating a dull and gloomy psychological atmosphere. The use of lighting and shadows can be exemplified by the scene where the mother takes the young protagonist to visit the doctor:

After walking for two hours, the mother and son arrived at the doctor's house only to find his wife at home, who was not friendly towards them. At 83:30 in the film, there is a scene that exemplifies superb utilization of lighting, shadows, and scene composition.

Firstly, there is a shot entirely enveloped in darkness; a woman emerges from the darkness, with light coming from the left.

The woman walks towards the right into the shadows, the camera moves to the right, the mother enters the frame, and the woman behind is only a black silhouette.

The camera continues to move to the right, the mother exits the frame, and the woman's face reappears, then walks out of the frame towards the left; the camera remains still, zooms in, and the face of the young boy slowly emerges from deeper shadows.

In this 25-second long shot, the entire background is dim and unclear, with light hitting the foreground, focusing the audience's attention on the characters' facial expressions, emphasizing the woman's arrogance and coldness, and intensifying the sense of the mother's dependence; with light coming from the left, half of the characters' faces are in darkness, implying their complex and uncertain emotions; the faces of the mother and the woman appear in the shadows, without fully appearing in a single shot, vividly depicting the tension in their relationship; and finally, the profile of the young boy emerges from the dark background, revealing that he has silently witnessed everything, at this moment, the helplessness of the abandoned mother, the self-blame and endurance of the young boy who couldn't protect his mother, as well as his compassion and love for her, all condensed in this shot.

Later, the woman forces the mother and son to kill a chicken for her. In order to protect the young protagonist, the mother reluctantly does what she was told. After killing the chicken, the director gives the mother a close-up shot, with the same dim background, light coming from the lower right, creating large eye shadows and cheekbone shadows. At this moment, the mother's smile makes every viewer feel her despair and helplessness.

2. Surrealism

Surrealist films also emerged in the 1920s as a branch of the French avant-garde movement. They aimed to establish a robust intellectual groundwork rooted in Freudian theory while seeking their own tools of thought and artistic defiance within the newly explored realm of the unconscious, highlighting the mind's autonomy. In terms of content, surrealism aimed to portray dreams and fantastical realms in film. Regarding form, it sought to delve into the structure of the unconscious, liberating itself from rational constraints and disrupting linear narratives. The most famous example of this is the collaborative work "Un Chien Andalou" by Buñuel and Dalí. They took the perspective of starting from a dream image, liberating themselves from conventional morality and rational constraints, and creating a thoroughly anti-narrative film.

Dreams can be said to be an essential component of Tarkovsky's films as well. Not only in "Mirror," but also in his other films, various strange dreams are interspersed. Similar to the principles of surrealism in film, Tarkovsky believes that the portrayal of dreams should not be through poor slow-motion shots or soft light veils. The haziness and ambiguity of dreams do not result from unclear images, but rather from the unique impressions generated by the logic of dreams, which combine completely real elements in irrational and unpredictable ways. His films aim to clearly reveal this irrational logic, rather than conceal it.

However, unlike the surrealism of France, Tarkovsky's dreams are lyrical and do not portray theatricality or absurdity.

For example, in the first dream scene in “Mirror": the mother, who has just washed her hair, walks alone through the room. Water starts to leak from the ceiling and walls, as if it's raining, and a large amount of lime starts to fall. In this scene, the mother gazes into the mirror and sees her future elderly self. The feelings of loneliness and solitude become even stronger in this incomprehensible backdrop.

Another example is the final scene: the elderly mother and her two children walk through a field. In the depth of the shot, the young mother stands at the other end of the field. Then, with a clear and powerful shout from the young protagonist, they walk towards the distance with the elderly mother. In this scene, the camera gradually withdraws into the woods. Within this frame, three different periods of time converge simultaneously: the expectant young mother, the young children, and the elderly mother. Time and space intertwine with each other, symbolizing the eternity of motherly love.

Impact Of Asia (Japan): Discovering "Time" in Space

Tarkovsky has openly expressed his admiration and love for Japanese culture multiple times. He enjoys Japanese haiku, such as the poetry of Basho:

The old pond-

a frog jumps in,

sound of water.

（Translated by Robert Hass）

He believes that these poems only have precise observations and records of life. They never metaphorize anything beyond themselves, they just express themselves; but these genuine observations and records bring rich connotations, making people feel abundant emotions and imagination, because life and the world are inherently imbued with meaning; by faithfully recording reality, one can uncover the entire universe within it.

In terms of films, Japanese directors such as Yasujirō Ozu and Kenji Mizoguchi also embody such characteristics to a greater extent. Compared to focusing on the performance or psychology of characters, their films are more interested in shaping the overall mood and atmosphere. The pace of the films is usually slower, and they pay more attention to the design of the visuals. They are adept at depicting a sense of time in a long shot, emphasizing the relationship between the scene environment and the characters.

In the film "Mirror," there is a scene at 13:55 that perfectly captures Tarkovsky's approach to documenting the real world and the sense of time within that documentation:

The wooden shed outside the house is on fire, and the mother calls her two children to go outside and see. The scene begins with the children getting up from the dining table and walking out of the frame, but the camera does not follow them. Instead, it remains fixed on the empty table, slowly and almost imperceptibly moving backwards for a full 10 seconds.

Just as the audience begins to anticipate that nothing will occur, a metal vase placed on the table is suddenly toppled by the wind, generating a distinct and sharp sound upon impact. Only after this crisp sound does the camera slowly move away and start searching for the main character. It is a truly moving moment, where time in the film and the protagonist's life are encapsulated in the ten seconds of empty frame following the impact.

Time is always a central theme in Tarkovsky's films, and we can deeply feel his sincerity and passion in any of his works. The greatest wealth he brings us is not his rich and unique filmmaking techniques, but rather his words of wisdom: content and conscience must come before technique―for any artist in any art form. For me, he will always be the greatest director in my heart. The devotion and faith he reveals in his films constantly inspire me to strive to become a better person.