It’s hard enough to write about “Mirror” by itself. It reaches a new level of complexity when Tarkovsky decides to pay tribute to Swedish cinematic master Ingmar Bergman and his 1966 classic “Persona.”

I wrote a bit about “Persona” in essay 7 of this series, but only scratched the surface. Bergman’s experimental, psychological, mysterious film might be the most written about film in history, and fortunately, Tarkovsky doesn’t go too deep in his mini-tribute.

It begins with Andrei in that last scene, lost amidst the mirrors, perhaps kindling his love of cinema. At the close of this segment, a lamp begins to flicker out. This copies the first image of Bergman’s “Persona,” which shows a close up, slow motion filament inside a movie projector sparking into light.

From here, Tarkovsky reintroduces the woman who owns the house, but juxtaposes her onscreen with Andrei’s mother Maroussia in a way that makes their faces sit side by side, so they look very much alike. This matches the iconic moment of “Persona” where the two main character appeared to dissolve into one.

Tarkovsky’s homage is more than a hat tip, it’s yet another shifting of the maternal persona between two women. He had previously made this kind of image shift between Andrei’s mother and future (then ex) wife by having both women played by the same actress. Now here he is drawing another overlapping analogy.

We still do not know exactly what the women discussed alone in the back room, but the owner of the house hints that Maroussia has sold her a pair of earrings. She then makes a very bizarre request of her house guest — that she butcher a chicken for her.

Maroussia says that she has no idea how to butcher a chicken, but this does not deter the woman, who brings the chicken in the house, perches it on her lap, then puts an axe in Maroussia’s hands. We don’t see the butchering — thank God — but do hear the axe come down, see feathers fly and hear a cry from the chicken.

After completing the act — made necessary because the woman said that she’s pregnant and gets sick to her stomach when she butchers — Maroussia stares straight ahead into the camera, a demonic look on her face.

There’s more to this segment of the film, including a bizarre scene with a young boy laying in a canopy bed, being treated like a prince or an angel, while the woman explains that she and her husband really wanted to have a girl.

And in the next scene, Tarkovsky will take the surrealism to a new level as Maroussia is seen levitating. But I’ll save that for the next essay.