instantly attracted to and entranced by Alexandre, who performs at her school; soon after she tells her father she’s in love, but can’t explain why. She follows a path of subtle clues Alexandre sends her, and eventually succeeds in finding him. However, the film does not feel centered around her romantic union with Alexandre. Instead, Veronique is on a journey to unite with her reflection, the shadow that eludes her consciousness, the double whose death she intuitively grieves. Laying on the bed with Veronique, Alexandre looks through the belongings in her bag. Examining the photographs taken in Krakow, he says, “That’s a beautiful photograph. And you, in that huge coat.” Veronique responds, “That’s not me.” Alexandre passes the photo to her, “Sure it’s you.” With a stunned expression she affirms, “That’s not my coat.” Veronique precedes to crumple the paper, tears falling from her eyes, overwhelmed by emotion. Anticipating the moment of Veronique’s confrontation with Weronika, I expected clarity and resolution rather than vulnerability. At the same time, what I find most intriguing about the film is its lack of resolve. Kieślowski achieves a seemingly cohesive plot structure
while omitting the information the viewer’s rational mind most desperately craves. There is no epiphany where the two women turn out to be twins, separated at birth; instead, the story remains shrouded in ambiguity. Though this lack of clarity may confuse or frustrate some viewers, I believe that it is Kieślowski’s way of honoring the unknown. The viewer is forced to accept all that is beyond understanding, and Kieślowski shows there is great beauty in this surrender—flickers of light, shadow and reflection to be observed and delicate, intimate emotions to be felt. The film ignites the possibility that somewhere, there exists a double. Though an imaginative, unworldly premise, it hints at a form of magic that is always available. In the fullness of the present moment, Weronika and Veronique act upon their intuitions, authentically led by their feelings. The vulnerability that enables them to trust this inner guidance rewards them with glimpses of miracles— moments where reflections in the window subsume physical form, premonitions become reality.
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