Зеркало (HD) / The Mirror

"MOSFILM" production

What is your name?

My name is Yuri Zhary.

Where are you from?

I'm from Kharkov.

What school do you go to?

I go to a trade school.

We'll begin now.

Look at me closely.

Look right into my eyes.

Concentrate on my hand.

My hand is drawing you back.

Concentrate!

Your attention
is on your hands.

Your hands are becoming tense!

You're concentrating your
will, your great desire

to succeed on your hands.

Your hands are becoming
very tense.

Look at your fingers.
They're becoming tense.

The tension from here will
flow to your fingers.

When I say "3", your hands
will become rigid.

One, two,

three! Your hands are rigid.

You can not move your hands.

You try to move them,
but can not.

I'll relieve the tension now,

and you will speak clearly
and effortlessly.

And you will speak loudly and
clearly all your life.

I'll remove the tension from
your hands and speech.

One, two,

three!

- Say "I can speak".
- I can speak.

THE MIRROR

Starring: Margarita Terekhova
as The Mother and Natalia

Script: A.Misharin, A.Tarkovsky

Directed by Andrei Tarkovsky

Camera: Georgi Rerberg

Sets: Nikolai Dvigubsky

Music: Eduard Artemyev
Sound: Semyon Litvinov

The cast

I.Daniltsev
L.Tarkovskaya, A.Demidova

A.Solonitsyn, N.Grinko
T.Ogorodnikova

Y.Nazarov, O.Yankovsky
F.Yankovsky

Y.Sventikov
T.Reshetnikova

Narrator: I.Smoktunovsky

Poems by Arsenii Tarkovsky
read by the author

The music in the film is by
Bach, Pergolesi and Purcell

THE MIRROR

The road from the station
lay through Ignatyevo,

turning off near the farm stead,

where we spent our summers
before the war,

and then to Tomshino
through a dark oak wood.

We usually recognized
the family,

when they appeared from
behind the bush.

If he turns towards
the house, it's Father,

if not, it's not he

which means he'll never
come again.

Is this the road to Tomshino?

You shouldn't have turned
at the bush.

Why're you sitting here?

- I live here.
- Where? On the fence?

What interests you: the road
to Tomshino, or where I live?

I took everything,
but forgot the key.

Would you have a nail
or a screwdriver?

I don't have a nail.

Why are you so nervous?

Give me your hand, I'm a doctor.

Don't talk, I'm counting!

Must I call my husband?

You've no husband.

You've no wedding ring.

Though they are rarely worn
nowadays.

May I have a cigarette?

Why are you so sad?

Why are you so happy?

It's nice to fall in love
with a pretty woman.

Look at these roots,

these bushes...

Did you ever wonder about plants

feeling, being aware,

perceiving even...

The trees, this beechnut...

- It's alder.
- It doesn't matter.

They are in no hurry.

While we rush around

and speak in platitudes.

It's because we don't trust
our inner natures.

That's all this doubt, haste,

lack of time to stop and think.

Do you have...

Have no fear. I'm a doctor,
you know.

What of "Ward N6"?

It's all Chekhov's invention!

Come to Tomshino.

- We've jolly times here.
- You are bleeding!

We celebrated each moment
of our meetings

as a revelation.

Alone in all the world.

You were lighter and bolder
than the wing of a bird.

Plying down the stairs,
two at a time

Pure giddiness, leading me
through moist lilac

To your domain
Beyond the looking-glass.

When night fell

I was favoured

The altar gates were opened,

and the dark there gleamed

Your nudity and
slowly bowed

Awakening, "Be blessed"
I said

And knew my blessing
to be bold

For you still slept

To touch your lids
with heavenly blue

The lilac on the table
stretched forth

And your blue tinted lids

Were calm and your hand
was warm

Locked in crystal
rivers pulsed,

Mountains smoked,
seas glimmered.

You held a sphere
of crystal

In your hand and slept
on your throne.

And Righteous Lord!
You were mine.

You awakened and transformed

Our mundane, human words;

Then did my throat fill
with new power

And gave new meaning to
"you"

Which now meant "Sovereign".

All was transformed even

Such simple things as basin,
pitcher, - when

Like a sentinel layered
solid water

Lay between us.

We were drawn on and on

Where cities built by magic

Parted before us
like mirages.

Mint carpeted our way,

Birds escorted us

And fishes swam upstream,

While the sky spread out
before us,

As fate followed
in our wake.

Like a madman brandishing
a razor.

It's a fire, but don't shout.

What if Vitya's there?
What if he's burned to death?

Where's Klanya?

Dad.

Why are you hoarse?

Don't worry. It's probably
a strep throat.

I haven't spoken for 3 days.

Being silent for a while
is good.

Words can't really express

a person's emotions.
They're too inert.

I just dreamed of you, mama.

I was a child in my dream.

By the way, when did father
leave us?

In 1935... Why?

And the fire? Remember when
the barn burned down?

That was in 1935, too.

There's something I wanted
to tell you...

You know, Liza died.

She worked
at the printing house, too.

- When?
- This morning.

What time is it now?
What's it now?

It's nearly 6...
What's the matter with you?

Why are we forever
quarrelling?

Forgive me, if I'm to blame.

Where are the proofs
I was reading?

I don't know.

Do you hear the evening proofs?

The Goslit edition? Relax!

I'll look in the cabinet.

It's not that terrible.

But it's a special edition!

No edition should have
misprints.

- Anything wrong?
- Not really.

I want to see...
Maybe I'm mistaken...

I'll find it myself.

Everyone's always in a rush!

You think I'm afraid?

Sure, let others worry.

Someone work and others can worry.

Well, what is it?

If it's something,
it's already run off.

I waited for you all day long
yesterday.

They guessed, that
you wouldn't come.

Remember the weather?

As at a holiday!
I did not even wear a coat.

Today you came, but we've
been granted

A day of such gloom,

And rain and an hour so late.

With drops running down
the cold boughs.

That words will not stop,
They can't be wiped away...

See? There's no misprint.

No... But it was such
an improper word.

Then why're you crying?

I could actually see the word
in print.

It's alcohol. It'll do you good.

You all drenched.

Yes, I am.

I'll go to take a shower.

Know whom you look like?

- Maria Timofeevna.
- Who's Maria Timofeevna?

Tell me simply: who's she?

Captain Lebyadkin's sister.

You are amazingly like her.

In what way?

After all it's Dostoevsky...
no matter what you say...

Lebyadkin, fetch me some
water! Hand me my shoes!

The difference is

her brother isn't bringing
water but beating for her

whereas he thinks
everyone's at her beck.

What're you getting at?

Your whole life's just
"fetch me some water!"

It's a show of independence.

If something doesn't suit you,

you pretend it doesn't exist.

I'm amazed at your
ex-husband's patience.

He should've bolted ages ago.

Do you ever admit you're
wrong? Never!

You created the whole situation!

You can say he escaped

in the nick of time,

before you managed to make him
like you.

Swear you'll make your
children miserable.

Stop talking nonsense!

Come on, Masha!

Leave me alone!

Passing life's half-way mark

I lost my way
in a dark wood...

I always said you resembled
my mother.

That's probably why we broke up.

I shrink to see Ignat
becoming like you.

Why do you shrink?

You and I could never
communicate.

When I recall my childhood
and Mother,

somehow she always has
your face.

But I know why.

I'm sorry for both of you,
you and her.

Put the glass back, Ignat!

You won't be happy with anyone.

You seem to think,

that the very fact of your
presence

should make everyone happy.

You can only take.

That's because I was
brought up by women.

If you don't want Ignat
to be like you,

get married soon.

- Whom to?
- I don't know.

Or let me have him.

You're to blame for being
on the cuts with your mother.

Because she thinks she knows
what's best for me,

or what can make me happy.

As for her arid me I feel
it more keenly than you.

We're drifting apart,

and I can't help it.

Distract him, Hatalya! He's
talking about Spain again.

It's all end in a row.

I wanted to ask you... We're
having the house painted.

Ignat would like to stay
with you for a week.

I'll be happy to have him.

What's he saying?

He's imitating the famous
matador Palomo Linares.

He was overwhelmed by
the farewell.

The entire city saw him off.

His mother couldn't. She was ill.

But his father stood sadly
on the side lines.

He knew they were both
thinking the same thought:

Would they ever see each other
again?

You mocking me?
I spent years teaching you,

you could never learn,
so you do know now!

He was in Spain, but didn't
understand a thing.

Don't you ever want
to go back to Spain?

I can't. My husband's Russian.

My children are Russian.

I'll talk to her!

Come here! I'm leaving.

When you're in a hurry,
this always...

Just pick them up.

It feels like electricity!

It's like it happened once...

But I've never been here before.

Give me the coins and stop
imagining things.

And tidy up a bit.

Don't touch anything.

Tell Maria Nikolayevna
to wait if she comes.

Come in. Hello.

A cup of tea for a young man.

Get the notebook
on the third shelf.

Read the page
where the book mark is.

"In replying as to the effect
the arts and sciences have

"on our morals, Rousseau said:
"a negative one"

Just read what's underlined.
We have no time.

"The division of the churches
separated us from Europe.

"We did not take part in

"a single one of its great
events.

"But we had our own special
predestination.

"Russia and its vast expanses

"absorbed the Mongol invasion.

"The Tatars didn't dare
cross our western borders

"and left us behind in the rear.
They returned to deserts,

"and Christian civilization
was saved.

"To achieve this goal
our way of life underwent

"a change which, while,
preserving us as Christians

"alienated us from
the Christian world.

"As for our historic
insignificance,

"I cannot agree with you.

"Do you find something
significant

"in Russia's present position,

"to amaze the future historian?

"Although I'm truly attached
to the Tsar,

"I'm not at all inspired
by what I see about me.

"As a writer I am annoyed,
I am insulted,

"but not for anything
in the world would I

"change my country,

"choose another history,

"than the history
of our forefathers,

"as God oriented it".

A letter from Pushkin to
Chaadaev. October 19,1836.

Go, open the door!

Oh, I've got the wrong
appartment.

How're things, Ignat?

Did Maria Nikolayevna come?

No... a lady came... she had
the wrong apartment...

Find something to do,

or invite a friend over.

Are you friends
with guys and girls?

Shucks to them!

I was in love when I was
your age, during the war...

She was a red head... her lips
were always chapped...

Our shell-shocked military
instructor liked her...

Where'd you aim at?
Think I didn't see you?

You shot into the air!

I didn't do anything,
there's nobody there.

What if there was?

There are trees there.

What if someone was up
in a tree?

About-face! The command was
about-face!

That's what I did.

Did you study the manual?

About-face is what I did.

It means

a 360 turn.

Forgot the degrees!
Asafiev! About-face!

To your firing positions!
Forward march!

I want to see your parents.

What parents?

Which firing position?
I don't understand.

Get down!

His parents died during
the Leningrad Blockade.

A firing position is...
a firing position.

Tell me the basic parts...
of...

...of... a rifle.

The stock...

The muzzle...

You're a muzzle.

Then what's a muzzle?

Don't!

Get down!

It's a dummy.

To think you're a Leningrad...

Blockade boy...

I trust not promotions.

And I fear not omens.

I flee not from slander
or poison.

There is no death.

We're all immortal -
All is immortal.

Fear not death at seventeen,

Not at seventy...There's only
reality and light.

There's neither dark, nor
death in this, our world.

We've reached the beach,

And I am one of those,
who pulls the nets in,

When immortality arrives
in batches.

Live in a house,
and it won't crumble;

I'll summon a century at will,

Enter and build my house in it.

That's why your children and
your wives

All share my board,

The table serving forefather
and grandson:

The future is decided now.

And if I rise my hand,

The five rays will remain
to you.

My bones, like beams

Held up each day,

I measured time
with a surveyor's staff,

And passed through it
as through the mountains.

I chose a century
according to my height.

We pressed on South, raising
dust in the steppes,

Weeds smoldered,
A grasshopper played,

Touching horseshoes and
prophesying...

Threatening me with death
quite like a monk.

I strapped my fate fast
to my saddle,

I rise up in the stirrups

Of the future as a boy.

I am content with my
immortality,

With my blood coursing
from century to century.

I'd gladly give my life

for a safe corner of warmth.

If life's swift needle

Did not draw me out,
as though I were a thread.

Marusya!

Where are the children?

I'll tell them
you stole a book.

Tattle-tale!

I will, too!

Marina!

Come more often;
you know how he misses you.

Let Ignat live here...

Are you serious?

You said he'd like to.

I have to watch my every word.

Think I suggested it
for my own pleasure?

Let's ask him. Let him decide...

It'll be easier on you.

In what way?

Did you get your books together?

Say goodbye to your father.

Mama and I wanted to ask you...

Would you rather live here?

You spoke to Mama of it,
didn't you?

When? What'd I say? No!
Don't want to.

She and I really are alike.

Not at all!

What kind of relationship
d'you want with your mother?

That of childhood's
impossible now.

You speak of feeling guilty,
because she

sacrificed her life for you...

There's nothing you can do
about it.

She wants you to be
a child again,

so she could take care
of you and protect you.

I'm meddling again...

As always...

What're you howling about?
Tell me!

Should I marry him or not?

Do I know him?

No...

Is he a Ukrainian?

What's that have to do with it?

- What does he do?
- He's a writer.

His name isn't Dostoyevsky,
by any chance?

Never wrote a thing, no one
ever heard of him.

Is he about 40?
Then he is a mediocrity.

You've changed so.

He has no talent,
doesn't write a thing.

He does, but it isn't published.

Look, our dear dunce
has started a fire.

Don't be so sarcastic
about his poor marks.

He'll drop out and be drafted,

and you'll try hard
to get him deferred.

It's all the results
of your upbringing.

The army won't kill him,
you know.

Why don't you phone your mother?

She was ill for three days
after Liza's death.

I didn't know.

I expected her at 5 today.

Can't you take the first step?

We were talking about Ignat.

Maybe I'm to blame, too.

Or have we just became
bourgeois?

A primeval Asiatic kind
of bourgeois.

Prospering when there's
no private property.

It's incomprehensible.

Why are you so irritable?

My friends' 15-year-old son
said to them:

"I'm leaving home, I can't stand

"all this hypocrisy."

What a smart boy!
Compared to our booby.

Too bad, our son will never
say such a thing.

Some friends you have!

They're no worse than us.
He's a newspaperman.

Thinks he's a writer, too,
by the way.

He just can't understand

that a book's a deed,
not a paycheck.

A poet must stir the soul,

not nurture idolaters.

But what I'll do?

Get married.

Do you remember,

whom the angel appeared to
as a burning bush?

No, not to Ignat at any rate.

Should we sent him
to a military school?

The angel appeared to Moses.

Why didn't anything like
that ever appear to me?

I keep having the same dream.

He seems to be forcing me
to return

to the bitter sweet site,

of my grandfather's house,

where I was born
on the table 40 years ago.

Something always prevents me
from entering.

I keep having my dream.

When I dream of the log
walls and dark pantry,

I sense that it's only a dream.

Then my joy is clouded,
for I know I'll wake up.

Sometimes something happens,
and I stop dreaming

of the house and the pines
by the house of my childhood.

Then I grieve

and wait for the dream,

that will make me a child again,

and I'll be happy again knowing

that all still lies ahead,

and nothing is impossible...

Someone's there, mama.

Are you Nadezhda Petrovna?

I'm Matvei Ivanovich's
stepdaughter.

He was a friend of your husband.

He's a doctor.
He used to live here,

but then he moved to Yuryevets,
he became a medical expert.

Do you live in the city?

We're from Moscow, but we
have a room in Yuryevets.

We were evacuated last fall.

Moscow was bombed.
I've two children.

My mother has friends here...

My husband's in the city today.

Stop scratching yourself.

I've come to see you.
It's a private matter.

Come in. Don't stand here...

Wipe your feet.
Masha washed the floors.

Wait here. I won't be long.

Why're you in the dark?
Did it go out?

Why didn't you call us?

- What's your name?
- Alyosha.

I've a son, too,
but he's a baby.

It's not easy to bring up
children in wartime.

Still I'd like a daughter.

Want to see him? He's sleeping.

He's a darling boy.

He asked his father,

why a 5 kopeck coin is bigger
than a 10 kopeck one?

Imagine! My husband
was speechless.

He wanted a girl. He even
had a name for her.

I made pink baby clothes.

Then I had to make others.

He gave us quite a bit of
trouble...

Did we wake you up?

What a chatterbox
your mother is.

See, who's here?

Don't know them?

You can't wake up, can you?

Go back to sleep then, love.

How do I look?
How's the ring?

- What's the matter?
- I don't feel well.

You are just tired.
I didn't realize it.

I should've put up supper.

Please, don't bother.

We ate before we started out.

What a nasty cough.

My husband should have
a look at him.

We can't wait. It's
a 2 hour walk back.

What about the earrings?
My husband has the money.

We'll slaughter a cockerel.
But do me a favor...

I'm 3 months gone and feel
nauseous all the time.

Even milking the cow
makes me sick.

As for the cockerel...

Could you?

But I...

You, too?

No, I've just never done it.

There's nothing to it.

I do it here on the block.

Here's the axe. It's very sharp.

- Right here?
- Over a basin.

I'll give you a hen tomorrow.

I can't do it.

Perhaps ask Alyosha.
He's a man, after all.

No, not Alyosha.

Hold it tight
or it'll wreck the place.

Don't fret.
You'll be all right.

Too bad, I only see you

when I'm really sick.

Here I am, born aloft.

What's the matter, Marusya?
Speak to me.

Don't be so surprised.

I love you.

You leaving? But the earrings?

My husband will be back soon.

- He's got the money.
- We changed our minds.

It's 15 miles to town.
It'll be dark soon.

It's all right. Don't worry.

A man has one body,
so solitary.

The soul is sick
of this solid sheath

With ears and eyes
The size of buttons.

And skin, a mass of scars,
A skeleton's robe.

Fly through the cornea
To the heavenly spring

To the icy spoke
To the bird's chariot.

Through the prison bars
it hears

The clamour of woods and leaves
The trumpet of the seas.

A soul without a body is like
A body without a shirt,

Not a thought or a deed,
Not a line or a concept.

A riddle that has no answer:
Who'll return

To dance, where there's
No one to dance?

I dream of another soul,
Dressed in other garb.

It flits from doubt to hope.

Burning without a shadow like
alcohol, and slips away.

Leaving a memento
Some lilac on the table.

Child, fret not
Over poor Eurydice

But drive your copper hood
Through life,

While in response
To every step

You have the Earth reply,
Merry is its voice and dry.

The stove's smoking, mama.

It all depends on him.

Is a strep throat that
dangerous?

What has a strep throat
to do with it?

It's a usual occurrence.

A mother, wife,

child die suddenly...

And a person wastes away
in a few days.

But no one died in his family.

There's his conscience...
his memory...

What has memory to do with it?

Is he guilty of something?

He thinks he is.

Leave me alone!

Leave me alone!

I just wanted to be happy.

What will happen to your
mother if you die?

Everything will be

all right...

Everything will be...

Do you want a boy or a girl?