Miroirs No. 3 (2025)
Directed by Christian Petzold

Last October, I attended the New York Film Festival (NYFF) premiere of Miroirs No. 3, the latest film by German director Christian Petzold, a central figure of the Berlin School film movement and two-time Berlinale Silver Bear winner. The film follows young pianist Laura (Paula Beer), who, after surviving a car accident during her countryside getaway, is taken in by a local family of three: estranged couple Betty (Barbara Auer) and Richard (Matthias Brandt) and their twenty-something son Max (Enno Trebs). Gradually, she finds herself becoming enmeshed in the family’s attempts to rebuild their lives after a devastating tragedy.

It structurally echoes its immediate predecessor Afire (2023): four characters gather in a domestic house that acts as a psychological container. But where Afire is cutting and fatalistic, Miroirs No. 3 is restorative and hopeful. It starts as a delicate story and expands into a profound one. It’s Petzold’s most empathetic and reconciliatory film to date, intimate in scale but grand in emotional reach.

In December, I met with Petzold over Zoom while he was home in Berlin, writing his next film. We immediately bonded over a common ground: English isn’t our first language. Surprisingly, we would find ourselves fixating on linguistics again and again throughout the conversation—whether it be to define Laura’s role in Miroirs No. 3, or to identify the main theme of Marty Supreme. Trying to meet each other in English, we made room for pauses, revisions, and mutual understanding. Our attention to words began to feel less like analysis and more like care—for the film, for cinema, and for ourselves.

And when Petzold opened up about his own family and upbringing, I began to understand his recent breakaway from his signature exploration of Germany’s political history—and how healing itself feels like the most meaningful political gesture nowadays.

Weiting Liu (Rail): I’ve been in China spending time with my family for the holidays. Where are you right now?

Christian Petzold: Berlin. Between December and March, it’s an ugly, dark city. Some of my friends escape to other, warm places. But I’m writing the script of my next film at home to fight against this winter depression. By the way, I haven’t spoken English since I was at the New York Film Festival in October.

Rail: English isn’t my first language either. But I always tell myself: “It’s about the ideas you have that others don’t. It’s not about how accurately you can pronounce certain words like so many others can.”

Miroirs No. 3 ended up becoming my favorite out of NYFF this year. I personally prefer smaller-scale films that are, however, perfectly executed like this one. Paula Beer remains mesmerizing throughout. Her expressions, albeit subtle, manage to grip me. As the anchor of the story, her character Laura works so well with the other three roles who are all fascinating in their own ways. Do you want to start with sharing your experiences of working with her?

Petzold: All of us have known each other for years. In Germany, we don’t have a concrete film industry, so we have to build our own little partisan film groups. For example, Rainer Werner Fassbinder also had his own ensemble of regular collaborators throughout his career. In my opinion, Germany has the best theater scene in the world, partly because our bourgeoisie needs theater where they can express themselves. We have many good acting schools, but more for theater than cinema. In German cinema, we see so much theater acting; everything has to be theatrical.

Nine years ago, I saw Paula for the first time in French director François Ozon’s Frantz (2016). I was instantly impressed. François, a friend of mine, vouched for her special acting sensibility—she’s not playing, nor is she on stage. As of now, we have made four films together, and she remains independent. Whenever we film together, she maintains a state as if she were out of focus. In between shoots, she never tries to impress me. Instead, she goes back to her trailer, plays her piano, reads, etc. She is always herself. And I like that.

Rail: Beer’s agency shines through Laura who has a toughness, a resistance, and sometimes, an anger. At first, Laura doesn’t even know what she wants. She just knows she likes the strange comfort Betty brings her, which is enough for her to want to see where it can go. She goes with the flow until it no longer serves her—and then she leaves. I love this about Laura.

Petzold: From the very beginning, you can sense that Laura is a young woman drifting away. When I was in New York, one of the critics told me Betty and Laura have a “war friendship,” which is a brilliant and accurate definition.