Kyôshin

Plenty of films aim to capture the more dramatic elements of intense sadness or depression, and there are certainly things about the state of mind that are more cinematic (for lack of a better word). It's easiest to capture spectacular sadness, and maybe on some level, that's also more engaging to watch. I feel like it's much less common for a film about depression and hopelessness to capture the tedium and boredom that can come with that state of mind.

In that sense, Mirrored Mind is certainly impressive. It is about feeling stuck, lifeless, and bored. There is nothing cathartic or explosive about most of it. It follows one woman who's stuck to the point where she can't do much of anything at all. She sits around an apartment a lot of the time, she thinks the same terrible thoughts over and over again, and she drinks to attempt to numb not the pain, but the tedium of it all.

The online synopsis talks about an escape in what I thought would be a metaphysical or spiritual sense, but I didn't get much of that. Happiness, here, feels delusional. To me, it just felt like it was about crushing despair, isolation, and - notably above all else - how strangely boring that state of mind can be.

As such, it's a film that itself is dull, but valuable as a cinematic document of a state of mind that's otherwise hard to depict or capture. I couldn't wait for it to end, but it's a surprisingly powerful cinematic statement about a way of being that I didn't know could be captured.

But here we are, and what a terrible place it is.