100 Movies Every Catholic Should See #115: Persona (1966)

Written and directed by Ingmar Bergman. Starring Bibi Andersson and Liv Ullman.

Some of the greatest pieces of art ever made are pieces that challenge us. Whether intellectually, emotionally, or in some other manner, it is always something special when one finds a challenging piece of art. Of all the films that we recommend, Persona is perhaps the most challenging of these pieces. Persona is more than an art film, it is an experience: a psychological experience that is as thought-provoking as it is difficult. While Persona is not necessarily approachable to all, it is a deeply rewarding experience that can fundamentally change how someone views cinema as an art form, as well as look upon themself.

*content warning* Before going any further, it is worth noting that while there is not any nudity shown, there is a monologue where the nurse confesses and retells in detail an affair she had one summer on the beach.

Persona is perhaps the least conventional film that we have listed to date. I would say that it is closest in style to Buñuel and Salvador Dali’s short film Un Chien Andalou (the film with the eye-cutting image). Persona in premise is pretty straightforward; a stage actress goes on sick leave in the country after she mysteriously goes silent. There, she is cared for by a young and talkative nurse, who tries to help her through this difficult and mysterious time. Despite this seemingly simple premise, Bergman thematically does more in 87 minutes than most filmmakers do over their entire career.

While Persona is told in a hyper-modern, borderline avant-garde fashion, at its heart is a soul yearning for traditional values and a traditional life. The film demonstrates the danger of living for oneself and what the embrace of modern culture can do to someone's psyche. Turning to modern society and the modern way of living forces us to reject ourselves and live for things. Money, fame, careers, success; all these things are synonymous with the modern world. One of the characters even confesses to an abortion that she had in order to save these things. But Persona very clearly tells us that this path is not the true way forward and leaves no fulfillment. This film gets in your face about the ugly nature and the horrible damage that abortion can do. The trauma it inflicts and the scars that never heal are something that doesn't really get talked about and is greatly neglected by our modern world. But Bergman does not pull any punches. He does not speak from a place of condemnation, but rather from a place of hurt and affirmation. Not affirmation in one's actions, but rather affirmation that one can change. The heart of this film is difficult to get at, for each time I watch it, I get something new out of it. Having seen it multiple times, which is almost required to really understand it, this core theme of the rejection of modernism has come up every single time. Throughout Persona, Bergman shows us the ugly nature and reality of the 20th century. Whether it be from a picture that one of the characters sees of the liquidation of the Warsaw Ghetto, a confession of a shameful affair, or an admission to one's selfishness, this haunting piece of art is the condemnation of the modern world that the 21st century has doubled down on.

Bergman and cinematographer Sven Nykvist collaborated on this film to create what is arguably some of the greatest cinematography and shot composition in the history of the art form. Every shot of Persona could be in a “The Beauty of” video, or could be used as wallpaper. The opening shots include many things, among them a close-up of a crucifixion. These abstract shots woven throughout the film can be confusing at times and add layers of complexity to this enigma. Despite what some may claim, I do not see this film as endorsing homosexuality. While some of these images on the surface level may seem that way, their ultimate purpose is to show the complexity of the relationship of our two main characters and the continued blurring of the lines of identity.

This collaboration between Bergman and Nykvist revolutionized how faces were shot in cinema. Because of this, Persona feels raw and intimate. It makes us confront parts of our own selfishness and our own choices that have potentially hurt others, and makes us come to terms with them, along with the characters. The shot composition is meant to be confusing because life is confusing without Christ. Our fixation on the Flesh and the things of this world, as beautifully shown in black and white photography throughout, leads us to isolation and regret.

Persona is a master class in acting. Our two lead actresses, Bibi Anderson and Liv Ullman, are up to the challenge of being photographed so close up and can express practically every emotion with whatever subtlety or flamboyance is required. Within this film, they solidify themselves as some of the all-time greatest actresses and are able to give performances that can be interpreted differently upon multiple viewings, and practically become these characters. In other films of theirs, while they also act with the same exceptionality, there's still a part of me that sees them as these two characters. I sometimes wonder how much of this film is Bergman, and how much of it is them.

Persona has a plethora of messages and additional themes throughout it. There are so many possible directions to go with this film, and I am fully confident that upon my next viewing of it, I will get something new. While it is perhaps the least conventional film that we have discussed to date, Persona is a deeply rewarding and multi-layered art film that sits as a crown jewel among Ingmar Bergman's filmography. It may not be everyone's cup of tea due to its somewhat avant-garde nature (though it is still coherent), but if you are in the mood for something on the artsier side, it will challenge you and stick with you for a very long time.