Persona

- You wanted to see me, Doctor?

- Have you seen Mrs Vogler, Sister?

- No, not yet.

- Then I'll fill you in...

...and give you the reasons

why you're to care for her.

Mrs Vogler is an actress, as you know,

and was performing in Electra.

In the middle of the play she fell silent

and looked around as if in surprise.

She remained quiet for a minute.

Afterwards she excused herself by

saying she was overcome by laughter.

The next day the theatre rang and

asked if she'd forgotten her rehearsal.

When the housekeeper went in

she was still in bed.

She was awake but didn't

answer questions and didn't move.

She's been like this for three months

and been given every conceivable test.

The result is clear. She's perfectly

healthy, both mentally and physically.

It's not even a question

of some kind of hysterical reaction.

Any questions, Sister Alma?

No? Then you can go in to Mrs Vogler.

Good day, Mrs Vogler.

My name is Sister Alma.

I've been employed

to look after you for a while.

Perhaps I should tell you about myself.

I'm 25, engaged...

I got my nursing certificate

two years ago.

My parents have a farm. My mother

was also a nurse before she married.

I'll fetch the dinner tray.

It's fried liver and fruit salad.

It looks really good.

Do you want to raise your head?

Is it okay like that?

Sister Alma.

What's your first impression?

I don't know what to say, Doctor.

First her face looks soft, almost

childish. Then you see her eyes...

She's got such a severe look, I think.

- I don't know, I should...

- What were you thinking?

- I thought I should refuse the job.

- Did something frighten you?

No, but she should have a nurse

who's older and more experienced.

- Experienced in life. I may not cope.

- Cope?

Mentally.

If Mrs Vogler's silence and immobility

is the result of a decision...

-...it must be as she's seen as healthy.

- Well?

It's a decision that shows great mental

strength. Perhaps I'm not up to it.

You might like to see the dusk,

Mrs Vogler. I can draw them later.

Shall I turn on the radio?

There's a play, I think.

Forgive me, my darling.

Oh, you must forgive me.

I don't desire anything other

than your forgiveness.

What are you laughing at, Mrs Vogler?

Is it the actress that's funny?

What do you know about compassion?

What do you know?

What do you know about compassion?

I don't understand things like that,

Mrs Vogler.

I'm interested in film and theatre,

but I go so seldom.

I have enormous admiration

for artists.

I think art

has an enormous importance in life.

Especially for people

who have problems of some kind.

I shouldn't talk to you about things

like that. I'm skating on thin ice.

I'll see if I can find some music.

Is that good?

Good night, Mrs Vogler. Sleep well.

Damn!

It's strange.

You go around almost any old how.

Do almost any old thing.

I'll marry Karl-Henrik and we'll

have a few children that I'll raise.

All that is decided. It's inside of me.

It's nothing to ponder over.

It's a huge feeling of security.

Then I have a job that I like

and am happy with.

That's good too. But in another way.

But it's good... good.

It's good.

I wonder what's really wrong with her?

Elisabet Vogler...

Elisabet.

Would you like me to open the letter,

Mrs Vogler?

Shall I read it?

Shall I read it to you?

Dear Elisabet:
As I'm not allowed

to see you, I'm writing.

If you don't want to read my letter,

you can ignore it.

I can't help seeking

this contact with you -

- as I'm tormented

by a constant question:

Have I harmed you in some way?

Have I hurt you without knowing?

Has some terrible misunderstanding

arisen between us?

Should I really read any more?

As far as I understood, we were

happy recently. We've never been...

...as close to one another

Do you remember saying: Now

I understand what marriage means?

You have taught me..

I can't see what's written here.

You have taught.. Now I see...

You've taught me that we must see

each other as two anxious children -

- filled with good will

and the best intentions

But gov..

Now I see it. But governed by forces

we only partially control

Do you remember saying all of that?

We were walking in the woods

and you stopped and held my belt..

There was a photograph

with the letter as well.

It's a photograph of your son.

I don't know if...

Would you like it, Mrs Vogler?

He looks awfully sweet.

I've been thinking, Elisabet. I don't

think you should remain at the hospital.

I think it's harmful.

As you don't want to go home -

- you and Sister Alma can move out

to my summer place by the sea. Hmm?

Don't you think I understand?

The hopeless dream of being.

Not seeming, but being.

Consious at every moment. Vigilant.

At the same time the chasm between

what you are to others and to yourself.

The feeling of vertigo and the constant

desire to at last be exposed.

To be seen through, cut down,

perhaps even annihilated.

Every tone of voice a lie, every gesture

a falsehood, every smile a grimace.

Commit suicide? Oh, no.

That's ugly. You don't do that.

But you can be immobile, you can

fall silent. Then at least you don't lie.

You can close yourself in,

shut yourself off.

Then you don't have to play roles,

show any faces or make false gestures.

You think...

But you see, reality is bloody-minded.

Your hideout isn't watertight.

Life seeps in everything.

You're forced to react.

No one asks if it's real or unreal,

if you're true or false.

It's only in the theatre the question

carries weight. Hardly even there.

I understand you, Elisabet. I understand

you're keeping silent, you're immobile.

That you've placed this lack of will

into a fantastic system.

I understand and admire you.

I think you should maintain this role

until it's played out.

Until it's no longer interesting.

Then you can leave it.

Just as you bit by bit

leave all your other roles.

Mrs Vogler and Sister Alma moved out

to the doctor's house in late summer.

The sojourn near the sea

had a favourable effect on the actress.

The apathy that had crippled her

in hospital yields to long walks -

- fishing trips, cooking,

letter writing and other diversions.

Sister Alma enjoys her rural seclusion

and takes utmost care of her patient.

Don't you know it's bad luck

to compare hands?

Elisabet? Can I read you something

from my book?

Or am I disturbing you? It says here:

All the anxiety we bear with us,

all our thwarted dreams -

- the incomprehensible cruelty,

our fear of extinction -

- the painful insight

into our earthly condition -

- have slowly eroded our hope

of an other-wordly salvation

The howl of our faith and doubt

against the darkness and silence -

- is one of the most awful proofs

of our abandonment -

- and our terrified,

unuttered knowledge

Do you think it's like that?

I don't believe it.

Making changes...

The worst thing with me is I'm so lazy.

And then I get a bad conscience. Karl-

Henrik scolds me for lacking ambition.

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