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Mediados del siglo XIX. Un vehículo sumergido en la niebla traquetea hacia la ciudad. Dentro viajan una troupe de artistas ambulantes liderada por el Dr. Vogler, mago e hipnotizador al que acompañan una bruja anciana, experta en pócimas de amor, y su mujer, que ejerce de ayudante de Vogler vestida de hombre. Al pasar en una ciudad se convierten en el blanco de las burlas y humillaciones de un comité encabezado por el cínico Dr. Vergerus, consejero médico, quiénes le piden a Vogler que les conceda una representación. En la mansión, aquella noche, reina una pesada atmósfera de sortilegio. Al día siguiente tendrá lugar la representación delante de todos los invitados... (Filmin)

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inglés Characteristically a straddled spectacle. From mystical moods (oh, the grim face of Max von Sydow!), through dark existential positions (when masks fall to the ground and mysticism disappears in the face of humiliation) to Decameron and grotesquely glowing passages that add color and tempo to the film. The story plays with the irreconcilable dichotomy of rational and irrationality, science and deception. Using a bit of cynicism, Bergman answers the question "is there anything outside of this world" somehow outside the main story, through the comic character of a grandmother-herbalist. A relentless battle of two irreconcilable principles is unleashed between the illusionist Vogler and Dr. Verger - a battle between illusion and reality. Who will convince the other about his world? Paradoxically, they both stumble in the same self-deception and are unable to offer more than lies and hypocrisy. The answer to both questions escapes under the seemingly confident and mystical masks they put on. Ingmar Bergman remains not only a patient and expressive observer (by which the film masterfully gives absolute space to the viewer), a tangible thread of sarcasm winds throughout the film, through which he evaluates both "comedian and charlatan" Vogler (following the tradition of humiliated Albert from The Naked Night) and arrogant rationalist and manipulator Verger. There is nothing more tragic than the final "triumph" of one of them, which reveals human existence as a pompous mask that covers a face frightened of death and its own imperfections by a veil of pomp and hypocrisy. ()