Miroirs No. 3
A contemplative mood piece, Christian Petzoldâs Mirrors No. 3 reflects on grief as a moment of transformation, a chance for a new beginning. Petzold centres the story on the mysterious ambiguity of Paula Beer, now his most frequent collaborator, a partnership that defines his cinema as surely as Nina Hoss did in Barbara, Phoenix and Transit. With Beer, he has moved away from the weight of history and politics, turning inward toward intimate gestures and the quiet drama of people failing to bond.
The story brings together two women at very different points of loss. Beer's Laura is in a car that almost hits Betty (Barbara Auer) on a country road, a brief, loaded exchange of glances that takes on greater meaning when moments later her boyfriend Jakob is dead and she wakes up in a stranger's house. Betty, by contrast, carries an older, more diffuse grief, a family tragedy that has hollowed out her relationship with her husband and son. One loss is raw, the other long settled into the bones. What binds them is the mystery that connects not only them, but all of us. Not grief, but loss.Â
Almost the entire film takes place at Bettyâs rundown countryside house, with an unusual porch that faces the street like something from the American midwest, a spot stuck between two spaces, as if it has been waiting for something to fill it. Betty seems to recognise something in Laura, though neither woman fully understands what the other needs. It is this mysterious glue that Petzold wants to ex