The Mirror (1975) - full transcript

MOSFILM

Fourth Artists' Association

What is your first name,

your last name?

My name is Yuri Zhary.

Where did you come from?

I came from Kharkov.

What school do you go to?

I go to a technical school.

Now we're going

to have a seance.

You just look at me.

Look me in the eye.

Look in front ofyou.

Turn around, with your back to me.

Concentrate on my hand.

My hand is drawing you back.

Spread your hands.

Concentrate. All your tension

is centered in your hands.

Your hands are strained!

Concentrate all ofyour

will power,

your big desire to win,

on your hands.

Your hands are getting

more and more tense.

They're very tense.

Still more tense.

Look at your fingers.

Your fingers are tense.

From here the tension passes on

to your fingers.

Look at your hands.

Yura, concentrate!

On my count ofthree

your hands will become immobile.

One, two, three!

Your hands don't move.

You can't move them.

You're trying to move your hands,

but they're fixed.

It's very hard for you

to make a slightest movement.

Now I'm going to lift

this transfixion,

and you'll be able to speak

freely, easily and articulately.

From now on you will speak

loudly and clearly.

Look at me.

I'm lifting the tension

from your hands and your speech.

One, two, three!

Go ahead, say loudly and clearly:

I can speak!

MIRROR

Margarita TEREKHOVA

as Mother and Natalya

Written by Alexander MISHARIN

and Andrei TARKOVSKY

Directed by Andrei TARKOVSKY

Director of Photography

Georgy RERBERG

Production Designer

Nikolai DVIGUBSKY

Music by Eduard ARTEMYEV

Sound by Semyon LITVINOV

English Subtitles by

Tatiana KAMENEVA

Also starring

I. DANILTSEV

L. TARKOVSKAYA, A. DEMIDOVA

A. SOLONITSYN

N. GRINKO

T. OGORODNIKOVA

Yu. NAZAROV, O. YANKOVSKY

F. YANKOVSKY

Yu. SVENTIKOV, T. RESHETNIKOVA

Author's text narrated by

l. SMOKTUNOVSKY

Verses by Arseny TARKOVSKY

recited by the author

Playing in the film music by

J.S. Bach, Pergolesi, Purcell

MIRROR

The road from the station

passed through lgnatievo,

then swerved near the farm

we had lived on each summer

before the war,

and through a dense oak forest

went on as far as Tomshino.

Usually we spotted our people

as soon as they appeared from

behind a bush in the mid-field.

If he turned from the bush

towards our house, then it's father.

If not, it meant it was not father

and that father would never come.

Am I going the right way

to Tomshino?

You shouldn't have taken a turn

at the bush.

- And this...What's this?..

- What?

Why are you sitting here?

- I live here.

- Where? On the fence?

Are you interested in the way to

Tomshino or where I live?

I brought all the instruments,

but forgot the key.

Do you happen to have a nail

or a screw-driver?

I don't have any nails.

Why are you so nervous?

Give me your hand. I'm a doctor.

You're bothering me.

Do you want me to call my husband?

You haven't got any husband.

There's no ring.

Though people don't wear rings

nowadays. Maybe only old people.

May I have a cigarette?

Why do you look so sad?

And why do you look so happy?

It's a pleasure to fall down

with an attractive woman.

You know, I fell and found

strange things here - roots, bushes...

Has it ever occurred to you

that plants can feel, know,

even comprehend...

The trees, this hazel-nut bush...

- This is the alder-tree.

- It doesn't matter.

They don't run about.

Like us who are rushing, fussing,

uttering banalities.

That's because we don't trust

nature that is inside us.

Always this suspiciousness,

haste,

and no time

to stop and think.

Look, you seem to be a bit...

It's no problem for me.

I'm a doctor.

And what about "Ward Number Six"?

Oh, Chekhov had made it all up!

Come to Tomshino sometime.

We often have a good time there.

You've got blood!

- Where?

- Behind your ear.

Each moment of our dates, not many,

We celebrated as an Epiphany.

Alone in the whole world.

More daring and lighter

than a bird

Down the stairs, like a dizzy

apparition,

You came to take me on your road,

Through rain-soaked lilacs,

To your own possession,

To the looking glass world.

As night descended

I was blessed with grace,

The altar gate opened up,

And in the darkness shining

And slowly reclining

Was your body naked.

On waking up I said:

God bless you!

Although I knew how daring

and undue

My blessing was: You were fast

asleep,

Your closed eyelids

with the universal blue

The lilac on the table

so strained to sweep.

Touched by the blue, your lids

Were quite serene, your hand was

warm.

And rivers pulsed in crystal slits,

Mountains smoked, and oceans

swarmed.

You held a sphere in your palm,

Of crystal; on your throne

you were sleeping calm.

And, oh my God! -

Belonging only to me,

You woke and at once transformed

The language humans speak and think.

Speech rushed up sonorously formed,

With the word "you" so much

reformed

As to evolve a new sense meaning

king.

And suddenly all changed,

like in a trance,

Even trivial things,

so often used and tried,

When standing 'tween us,

guarding us,

Was water, solid, stratified.

It carried us I don't know where.

Retreating before us, like some

mirage,

Were cities, miraculously fair.

Under our feet the mint grass spread,

The birds were following our tread,

The fishes came to a river bend,

And to our eyes the sky was open.

Behind us our fate was groping,

Like an insane man with a razor

in his hand.

Oh, good heavens! Dounya!

What is it, Pasha?!

A fire! But be quiet.

He'll get it coming to him!

And what ifVitya is in there?

What if he's burned?

Where's Klanya?

What?

Dad!

- Alexei?

- Hello, ma!

What's wrong with your voice?

Nothing serious.

I guess it's just a sore throat.

I haven't spoken to anyone

for three days.

I even liked it. I think it's good

to keep silent for a while.

Words can't express everything

a person feels.

Words are flaccid.

I just dreamed ofyou in my sleep.

As though I were still a child...

By the way, what year was it

when dad left us?

1935. Why?

And the fire? Remember the hay-loft

that burned down at the farm?

That was in '35 too.

All right, stop pulling the wool

over my eyes.

You know... Lisa died.

The one I worked in the printing

house with.

- Oh God... When?

- This morning, at 7.

And what time is it now?

What is now?

- Almost six.

- In the morning?

What's the matter with you?

ln the evening.

Mom, why do we have to fight

all the time?

I'm sorry if I did anything wrong.

Printing-house.

Next stop: Serpukhovskaya.

What's the rush?

Hello.

Where're the proofs

I've been reading?

I don't know. Just a minute.

Yelizaveta Pavlovna is here.

Marousia, what's wrong?

Something in yesterday's proofs?

In the Goslit edition?

Don't be so nervous!

We should look in the typesetting

case.

Nothing terrible has happened.

It's such an important edition!

Although misprints have no place

in any edition.

Shut up, you idiot.

- What happened?

- Nothing serious.

I just want to check something.

I may be wrong...

Let's start from the beginning.

I'd rather do it myself.

Everybody's rushing,

no one's got any time!

You think I'm afraid?

No, let other people

be afraid.

Some people should work,

and others should be afraid.

Well, nothing awful has happened.

If it happened, it happened.

We've been printing all night...

I waited for you since yesterday's

morning.

That you won't come they probably

guessed.

Remember what a beautiful weather

it was?

A holiday weather!

And I walked coatless.

Today you're here, and they have

arranged

An utterly gloomy and cloudy day,

It rains, and it's getting unusually

late,

The rain drops run down the cold

terrain,

Unsoothable by word, unwipable

by hand...

You see, it wasn't there, was it?

Everything is all right.

It wasn't...

That would've been a horrid mistake.

Why are you crying then?

I even saw that word typeset.

What word?

Great!

This is pure alcohol.

Not much, but it might help.

You've got all drenched up.

You look like a scarecrow!

Really, I'm all wet.

I guess I'll go and take a shower.

Where's my comb?

You know who you resemble now?

- Who?

- Maria Timofeyevna.

What Maria Timofeyevna?

Here. You've been looking for

your comb, haven't you?

Tell me, who's Maria Timofeyevna?

There was such a woman,

Captain Lebyadkin's sister.

You're the spitting image

of Lebyadkina.

In what way do I resemble her?

Yes, Fyodor Mikhailovich was...

Whatever you may say...

What?

Lebyadkin, bring some water!

The difference is her brother would

not bring her water, but beat her.

Explain it. I don't understand.

All your life is just that

"bring some water!"

Just an appearance of independence.

If something doesn't suit you,

you pretend

it doesn't exist.

What nonsense you're talking!

I'm amazed at the patience

ofyour ex-husband.

He should have run away

much sooner.

What do you want from me?

Have you ever admitted

you were wrong? Never!

You just made up

this whole situation!

As long as you haven't succeeded

in elevating your dear husband

to this nonsensical emancipated

condition ofyours,

then you can be sure

he has been saved just in time.

As for your children, you will

definitely make them miserable.

Stop this idiocy!

Come on now, Masha!

Leave me alone!

My earthly life traversed but

by a half,

I found myself lost in a twilight

forest...

I always said

that you resemble my mother.

Apparently, that's the reason

we divorced.

I notice with horror how much

lgnat is becoming like you.

Why with horror?

We two could never talk

like normal human beings.

When I recall my childhood

and my mother,

somehow she always has your face.

I know why though.

I pity you both,

you and her.

Why?

Ignat, put the glass down!

You won't be able to live

a normal life with anyone.

Probably.

Don't feel offended.

You seem to be convinced

that the very fact

ofyour existence close by

will make everybody happy.

You only know how to demand.

That's because I was brought up

by women.

Ifyou don't want lgnat

to become like that,

get married as soon as possible.

- Get married to whom?

- This I don't know.

Or give lgnat to me.

Why didn't you make it up with

your mother? It was your fault.

What fault?

She's convinced herself she knows

better than I how I should live.

That she can make me happy.

As far as mother is concerned,

I can feel it better than you.

What can you feel better?

That we're getting more and more

distant,

and I can't do anything

about it.

Natalya, try to distract him.

He's talking of Spain again.

It will end up in a scandal.

I wanted to ask you for a favor...

We're redecorating now.

Ignat wants to live with you

for a week.

I will be very happy.

What does he say?

He's showing the great matador

Palomo Linares.

Most of all he was excited

by the farewell he was given.

The whole town came to see him off.

People sang and danced.

His mother couldn't come,

she was sick.

And his father stood aside,

sad and silent.

He knew they were thinking

the same thing:

that they probably will never

see each other again.

Are you mocking at us or what?

We taught you and taught

and it was no use.

Now it turns out you can!

He went to Spain and didn't

understand anything.

Did you ever want

to go back to Spain?

I can't go, I've got a Russian

husband.

And Russian children.

I'll talk to her myself!

Ignat!

Come here. I'm leaving.

Always in a hurry...

Don't put it together, just give it

to me like that.

- Oh, I felt an electric shock.

- What shock?

As if it had already happened...

But I've never been here before.

Come on, give me the money

and stop dreaming.

Clean up a bit,

make the place tidy.

Don't touch anything here.

If Maria Nikolaevna comes

tell her to wait for me.

Come in. How are you?

May we have another cup

for the young man?

Take the notebook from the third

shelf in the bookcase, will you?

Read from the page that is marked

with a ribbon.

"To the question how sciences

and arts affect

people's morals, Rousseau answered:

Negatively'."

Read only what is underlined

with the red pencil.

"Notwithstanding the..."

Oh no!

"The division of churches

separated us from Europe.

We remained excluded

from every great event

that had shaken it.

However, we had our own,

special destiny.

Russia, with her immense territory,

had swallowed up the Mongol

invasion.

The Tartars didn't dare

crossing our western borders.

They retreated to their wilderness

and Christian civilization

had been saved.

To attain that goal

we had to lead

a special kind of life

which, while leaving us Christians,

had made us alien

to the Christian world.

As for our historic

insignificance,

I cannot agree with you on that.

Don't you find

anything significant at all

in today's situation in Russia

that would strike

a future historian?

Although I'm heartily attached

to our sovereign,

I'm not at all delighted with

everything I see around me.

As a man of letters,

I'm being annoyed, insulted,

but I swear that for nothing

in the world would have made me

change my home country

or have any other history

than the history of our forbears,

such as it was given us by God."

From Pushkin's letter to Chaadayev.

October 19, 1836.

Go, open up.

I'm afraid I've got the wrong

address.

Ignat, how are you doing?

Did Maria Nikolaevna come?

No. Though some woman came,

but she's got the wrong apartment.

Find something to do

or invite somebody.

Do you know any girls?

You mean from my class?

Oh no!

At your age I was already in love...

During the war...

With a redhead...

Her lips were always blistered.

Our military instructor was chasing

after her, he was shell-shocked.

Are you listening to me?

What did you fire at?

You think I didn't see it?

You were firing up!

What's wrong with that?

There's no one there.

And what if somebody was there?

There're only trees there.

And what if somebody climbed a tree?

About face! I commanded

"about face"!

Put down your rifle.

That's what I did.

Did you learn drill regulations?

About face in Russian means

exactly what I did.

About face means a turn of

360 degrees.

What degrees? About face!

To the firing position

forward march!

I'm going to send you

for your parents.

What parents?

You'll know very soon

what parents.

What is the firing position?

Down on the floor mat!

His parents died during the siege.

The firing position is...

a firing position.

- Markov!

- Yes, sir!

Name the basic elements of...

The rifle.

The butt.

- The muzzle.

- It's you who's a muzzle.

What is the muzzle then?

Guys! A grenade!

It's a hand grenade!

Don't do it!

Down on the ground!

You'll be killed!

It's only a dummy grenade.

And you say you're from Leningrad

and been under the siege...

I don't believe in premonitions.

I have no trust in superstitions.

I don't run from slander or venom.

There's no death on earth.

All are immortal,

Everything's immortal.

Don't be afraid of death

at seventeen,

At seventy as well...

There's just reality and light.

There's neither death nor darkness

in this world.

At last we all have reached the shore,

And I'm the one who casts a fishing

rod

When immortality is coming

in a shoal.

Live in a house, and it'll never

fall.

To any ofthe centuries I'd nod

And enter it, a house I'd install.

That's why with me your children

share board,

Your wives join me at my table,

and all.

One table serves both granddad and

grandchild:

The future's being made right now.

Whenever I'm to raise my hand

in tide,

I all five rays of it on you bestow.

With collarbones, as ifwith

timber work,

I propped up every day of past age.

I measured time by a world-wide

walk,

I passed through it like through

the Urals range.

I chose the age up to my own measure.

We headed south, with dust flying

away,

The weeds smoked up, and at his own

leisure,

His feeler on the horseshoe,

the grasshopper forecast...

He prophesied me death, as if

he were a monk.

But with my fate strapped to my

saddle fast,

I'm riding now in the time to come

And surging on the stirrups to my

own drum.

My immortality is quite enough

for me.

For my own blood to flow ages

through,

For steady warmth and a haven

safe and true

I'd give my life self-willingly and

freely,

Had not its volatile, needle-like

sword

Been leading me, like a thread,

throughout the world.

Marousia? And the children?

Where are the children?

I'm going to tell everybody

that you've stolen the book.

- What?

- I will, you'll see.

- Now stop it!

- Go on, tell everybody!

I will, anyway!

Marina!

You could have come more often.

You know that he's missing you.

Let lgnat live with me.

Are you serious?

You said yourself

that he would like to.

With you it's better to keep one's

mouth shut.

You mean I'm inventing this

for my own pleasure?

Let's ask him.

Whatever he decides...

Besides, it will make your life

much easier.

Why would this make it easier for me?

Have you collected your books?

Go say goodbye to your father.

Your mother and I would like

to ask you...

What?

Wouldn't it be better ifyou lived

with me?

How?

You and I will live together.

Haven't you said so to your mother?

Said what? When?

No, please.

We really look alike,

don't we?

Not at all!

What do you want from your mother?

What kind of relationship?

The kind of relationship you had

in your childhood is impossible.

You speak of some feeling of

guilt,

of her life being ruined because of

you...

Well, you can't get away from it.

And what she needs is for you

to become a baby again,

for her to be able to carry you

and protect you.

Why on earth am I meddling in it?

It's always like this...

Why are you whimpering?

Explain it.

Should I marry him or not?

- Do I know him?

- No...

Is he Ukrainian?

Does it matter?

- What is he doing?

- He is a writer.

Doesn't his name happen to be

Dostoyevsky?

Yes, Dostoyevsky.

He hasn't written anything

worthwhile. Nobody knows him.

He must be about 40, isn't he?

Apparently he's got no talent?

You've changed so much.

So, he has no talent, he doesn't write

anything.

He does write, but they don't

publish him.

Look, our precious flunk

has put something on fire.

No need to be so ironic about

his flunking.

If he doesn't finish school,

he'll end up being drafted.

And you will go begging

to have him exempted from the army.

This is all the result ofyour

indulging him.

By the way, the army would be

good for him.

Why don't you call your mother?

After Aunt Lisa's death she stayed

in bed for three days.

Wasn't she supposed to come here

at five?

Is it so difficult

to make the first move?

We were talking about lgnat.

It may be my fault, too.

Or is it because we got so bourgeois?

And our embourgeoisement is

so dense, so Asian.

With private ownership nonexistent,

our well-being is on the rise.

Nothing makes any sense anymore.

Why do you get so irritated?

I know a family

whose 15-year-old son said:

"I'm leaving you.

It disgusts me to see

how you weasel around

trying to please everybody."

Good boy.

Not like our booby.

Unfortunately, our boy would never

say such a thing.

I can imagine that family ofyours!

They're no worse than we are.

He works for a newspaper.

And thinks he's a writer, too.

Though he's unable to understand

that a book is not a way of making

money but a statement.

A poet is called upon

to provoke a spiritual jolt

and not to cultivate idolaters.

What am I going to do?

You're going to get married.

Do you happen to remember

who was it who saw a bush on fire?

I mean the angel as a bush?

I don't remember.

In any case, it was not lgnat.

Maybe we should send him

to a cadet school?

An angel as a flame coming from

a bush appeared to Prophet Moses.

He led his people out across the sea.

Why has nothing like that

ever appeared to me?

With an amazing regularity

I keep seeing one and the same dream.

It seems to make me return

to the place, poignantly dear to my

heart,

where my grandfather's house

used to be,

in which I was born 40 years ago

right on the dinner table.

Each time I try to enter it, something

prevents me from doing that.

I see this dream again and again.

And when I see those walls made of

logs and the dark entrance,

even in my dream I become aware

that I'm only dreaming it.

And the overwhelming joy is clouded

by anticipation of awakening.

At times something happens

and I stop dreaming

ofthe house and the pine trees

of my childhood around it.

Then I get depressed.

And I can't wait to see

this dream

in which I'll be a child again

and feel happy again

because everything will be still

ahead, everything will be possible...

Mommy!

- Mom, they opened up!

- What's the matter with you?

Hello.

Hello.

- Are you Nadezhda Petrovna?

- I don't think l...

I'm Matvey lvanov's stepdaughter.

He was a friend ofyour husband.

What Matvey?

The doctor. He used to live here.

Then he moved to Yurievets

and became a legal expert.

Are you from town?

We're from Moscow,

but we have a room in Yurievets.

We were evacuated last fall.

The air raids on Moscow began

and I have two kids.

My mother has some old connections

here...

My husband is not here,

he's in town.

Stop scratching yourself!

Actually I came to see you.

It's a ladies' little secret.

Come on in.

Don't stand there...

Wipe your feet.

Masha's just washed the floor.

Sit here for a while.

We won't be long.

Why are you sitting in the dark?

Did it go out?

You should've called us.

- What's your name?

- Alyosha.

I've got a son, too.

Not so big as you, of course.

It's not easy having kids now,

with the war going.

I wish I had a girl too.

Want to have a look? He's asleep.

We'll be quiet.

He's such a darling.

The other day he asked his father:

"Why is 5 kopecks bigger

than 10 kopecks?"

I was just dumfounded, and

his father didn't know what to say.

He always wanted a daughter.

He even thought of a girl's name.

And I prepared a pink layette.

Then I had to make everything anew.

He put us up to a lot oftrouble,

little rascal.

We woke you up, didn't we?

That's your mommy's fault,

she just can't stop talking.

See, we've got company.

Some strangers, aren't they?

You just wouldn't wake up,

would you?

All right, honey, go back to sleep.

Do they become me? And the ring?

- What's wrong?

- I just felt queasy.

Of course, you've made a long trip.

I should have known better.

Have a drink. It will warm you up.

I just talk and talk

when I ought to make supper.

Oh please, you don't have to do it.

- But I can't let you go like that.

- We had a meal before leaving.

I don't like his cough!

Well, he runs wild...

We must have my husband

examine him.

We can't wait, we have a two-hour

walk to make.

And what about the earrings?

My husband's got the money.

We're going to have a cock

slaughtered. Only may I ask you...

I'm three months pregnant

and having fits of sickness.

Even when I'm milking a cow,

it gets so bad...

As for the cock...

Could you?

Well, I myself...

What, you too?

No, but I've never done it before.

Oh, it's nothing. Sure, in Moscow

you ate them already slaughtered.

I usually do it right here,

on this little log.

Here's the axe. My husband

has sharpened it this morning.

- You mean, right in the room?

- We'll put a basin under.

And tomorrow you'll take

a chicken with you.

No, I can't.

Maybe we'll ask Alyosha to do that?

After all, he's a man.

Why Alyosha?

All right, hold it tight. If it breaks

loose, it'll smash the dishes.

Oh no, I don't feel... Well?

Calm down. Everything will be

all right.

I wish I could see you

not only when I feel too bad.

- Do you hear me?

- Yes.

At last I soared up.

What's wrong, Marousia?

You feel bad?

Don't be surprised.

I love you.

Are you leaving already? And the

earrings? My husband'll be right here.

- He's got the money.

- We changed our mind.

It's fifteen versts to the town.

It's going to be dark soon.

That's all right, don't worry.

A man has but one body,

Like a single cell.

The soul is sick and tired

Of its too solid shell,

With ears, mouth, eyes

The size of a nickel coin

And skin all scarred and diced,

Spread over a skeleton.

Through cornea it wings

To a heavenly spring,

To ice-laden slings,

To a chariot birds bring.

It hears through the grating

Of its living prison pen

The fields' and forests' rattling,

The Seven Seas' refrain.

Without body a soul's nude,

As a body's nude without a shirt:

No thought's forthcoming, no good,

No idea's born and no word.

A question that has no answer:

Whoever can come back

From the floor where no dancer

Was ever to leave track?

I dream of another soul,

ln quite a different garb:

While shifting between dole

And hope, it burns up,

Like alcohol, and goes

Away, casts no shadow

And just leaves as mementoes

The lilacs smelling of meadow.

Run on, my child, do not lament

The fate of poor Eurydice,

Just keep on driving to globe's end

Your copper hoop for all to see.

As long as answering to your step,

However slight might be a tone,

The earth sends signals gay and pep

To every energetic bone.

Mom, the kerosene stove is smoking.

What?

Everything will depend on him.

Do you think a sore throat could

have such an after-effect?

A sore throat has nothing to do

with it.

- This is a common case.

- Common?

A mother dies suddenly,

then the man's wife and child...

A few days and the man is no more,

though he was quite healthy.

But no one died in his family.

There're such things as conscience...

memories...

What memories have to do it with it?

- You think he's guilty of something?

- He thinks so.

Leave me alone.

- Did you say something?

- Leave me alone!

I just wanted to be happy.

And what's going to happen to your

mother ifyou don't get up?

It's nothing, everything will be

all right...

Everything will be...

Would you rather have a boy

or a girl?

The End