It becomes impossible to decipher “Mirror” at this point. The camera opens in black and white on the face of a man who seems like something out of an impressionistic silent movie. He stands beside Maroussia, who is levitating.

As if that isn’t ethereal enough, there’s a voice over dialog between the mysterious man and Maroussia. He strokes her hand and says “Don’t worry. Relax. Everything will be fine.”

She reponds “it’s a shame I only see you when I’m very sick,” which makes me think that perhaps this is a religious figure, maybe a guardian angel. The scene ends with a dove flying by and Maroussia declaring that she loves him.

The action quickly returns to the house.Maroussia and Alexi are leaving the house — rushing away from it might be more accurate. The homeowner tries to reassure her that her husband will be home soon with the money, but Maroussia says “I changed my mind.” The very long trek for the two begins, across more muddy fields.

And now we get a new poem from the father as voice over accompaniment to their long walk. It’s about body and soul — how the soul without flesh is shameful, like a body without a shirt. There are mysterious black and white shots of the forest that are interwoven.

The scene shifts the childhood house again, in black and white, with dramatic winds and flowing sheets. We don’t know what generation of child walks through the house, but it doesn’t seem to matter in “Mirror,” generations fold across each other rather than follow in sequence.

It closes with a super slow motion scene of a young boy holding a very long container of milk. At one point he seems to be pulling it up and take a sip, but he stops.

Kieslowski’s dream movie has dissolved into pure image at this point.