‘Miroirs No. 3’ NYFF 2025 Review: Take Your Time

Time can be an unsparing villain or an angelic savior in Christian Petzold’s films. In his enigmatic period-piece “Phoenix” (2014), a cabaret singer (Nina Hoss) survives the Holocaust with literal scars that may never heal. However, her fitful optimism is grounded in the belief that the future should be more merciful than her past. In “Transit” (2018), it’s unclear what era Georg (Franz Rogowski) and Marie (Paula Beer) are living in, but it’s obvious that they need to escape an increasingly fractious, military-occupied city, so they race against an invisible hourglass like a postmodern-day Rick and Elsa. Petzold’s “Miroirs No. 3” (2025), making its U.S. premier at the New York Film Festival, ultimately deems time an ally, or at least a necessary-evil partner in coping. Deploying a disorienting blend of heightened melodrama and taut psychodrama—Petzold hallmarks—”Miroirs” offers a bewitching treatise on charging forward in response to time’s often brutal indifference. 

A puzzle whose missing pieces are hiding in plain sight, “Miroirs” disguises itself as a fable—the quiet rural setting and periodic interlopers suggests folk horror—and then gear shifts to a tightly-wound profile of a family in mourning. Every gesture or glance that Laura (Beer) makes matters, from the far-off gaze away from her prickly boyfriend Jakob (Philip Froissant) to the moment when she first locks eyes with a stranger (Barbara Auer) who’s painting her fence. The camera remains on Betty (Auer) when Jakob’s car eventually runs off the side of the road and flips over, killing him and ejecting Laura. Rushing to help, Betty writhes at the horrifying sight of Jakob’s bloodied, lifeless body, then finds that Laura is still breathing. Betty eases Laura onto her feet, ushering her back to her home where medics promptly clear Laura to go home. 

Auer and Beer’s Electric Chemistry Drives ‘Miroirs’

And yet, Laura asks to stay, setting in motion a codependent relationship whose true roots gradually unveil themselves. Betty, a consummate caregiver, lays out clothes for Laura every morning next to a breakfast pastry and two labeled mugs: one tea, the other coffee. It’s all kindness, which Laura welcomes as she recovers from her blunt-force physical and emotional injuries. A few days later, Laura’s ready to reciprocate, so she insists that Betty let her cook a dumpling dish that happens to be a family favorite. Elated at this coincidence, Betty invites over her husband Richard (Matthias Brandt) and son Max (Enno Trebs), the mention of whom jolts Laura. They’re tradesmen, Betty explains, and there’s some comic relief when Laura points out—against Betty’s wishes—the litany of broken appliances (especially the dishwasher), sending these inscrutable visitors into Mr. Fix-It overdrive. 

Shuffling pieces at a low-key, measured pace, Petzold delicately ratchets up the stakes, introducing details about the family’s inner life that imply something is amiss. Or, just missing altogether. When a car stops to linger in front of Betty’s house, Richard stands up and wordlessly wills the group away. No explanation is given, despite Laura’s asking, and Petzold continues to plant seeds that turn these ciphers into fully-formed characters, a credibly cohesive and dysfunctional family. Laura, a pianist, is happy to play Ravel for the whole family—at Betty’s request—but that episode compels Max to let Laura in on the dark family secret. Each of four principal performances are solid and nervy, matching the film’s coiled intensity. Ultimately, however, it’s Auer and Beer’s electric chemistry that drives “Miroirs,” morphing from a ghost story to a domestic anti-thriller, welcoming and dispensing genre tropes along the way. 

Closure is a Messy Process

Although Max’s big reveal—and the immediate aftermath—is clunky, “Miroirs” is a shrewd, frequently mesmerizing study in how time can ravage and soothe. Similar to Petzold’s previous films, “Miroirs” is driven by both the relationships that form on-screen and those that had been previously established (or severed) way off-screen. Petzold deftly navigates each character’s personality quirks, remaining impartial and making no judgments on their preferred manner of countering pain. Daytime beers, loud music, classical music, a bike ride to the lake—simple pleasures, all, promising to transform a dreary day into something manageable. Closure, “Miroirs” reminds us, is a messy and forever process. Despite the family’s oddball way of pursuing Laura after she departs—escapes?—the house, Petzold has no editorial agenda other than to tell all sides of a tragic arc. He cracks open these intertwined lives that unravel separately and are stitched back together in unison, on time that is owed and earned.

“Miroirs No. 3,” A 1-2 Special release, screens at the New York Film Festival on October 6th and 7th.