While she is undeniably one of the biggest stars to ever exist in the expansive entertainment industry, opinions on Barbra Streisand tend to vary, with some being put off by her reputation for being one of the most compulsive and forthright entertainers of her generation, while others adore her for it. Some may call Streisand a diva, others may see her as someone who knows her talent and how much she is worth, and is willing to work for what she genuinely believes she deserves. As a result, it’s rare to find her doing anything just for the sake of a pay cheque or a quick favour – everything she does is designed to showcase her talents, and whether we see this as acts of vanity or simply exerting the steadfast control of her skills, she always produced work worthy of her immense talents, at least on her end. This essentially means that even her more divisive works are somewhat interesting, since it’s always fascinating to see a true star in their element, even if the film itself isn’t very good. This is the case for The Mirror Has Two Faces, a film that sees Streisand staking her claim as a more comedically-minded filmmaker, after having made a series of more serious dramas earlier on in her career as a director. The proverbial Renaissance woman of her generation, Streisand puts everything she has into this quaint film, which may not be particularly great, but has its moments of brilliance that make it a perfectly appropriate and worthy entry into her career, proving that she is a true talent on both sides of the camera.

The Mirror Has Two Faces is the exact kind of film we’d expect from Streisand making a romantic comedy – it has a relatively traditional structure, but the mastery comes in the small details. Naturally, she is at the forefront, playing the lead of the film, as well as directing and producing it (oddly enough, the screenplay was written by Richard LaGravenese, who was adapting an obscure French drama, Le Miroir à deux faces, which was a more serious version of this general narrative), and we can see every bit of her in each frame of the film, which is designed to showcase her as an actress. It’s not a great directorial effort, but rather one constructed to position her in the leading role, and give her the chance to prove that she is capable of being a great romantic lead on her own. The premise of The Mirror Has Two Faces is interesting enough – two bookish, intellectual university professors begin a romantic relationship, where the source of attraction is not appearance or sex appeal, but rather shared interests, which works for a while, but turns out to be a bit of a challenge after they decide to get married, despite not having an iota of intimacy shared between them, causing them to re-evaluate their intentions for starting this relationship in the first place. It’s a fascinating subversion of the romantic comedy structure, where the traditional elements of the meet-cute and love-at-first-sight argument are dismissed in favour of something far more complex, which comes at the expense of some trite conventions – and while it may not avoid every cliche, The Mirror Has Two Faces is still a very entertaining and compelling film, and precisely the kind of romantic comedy we’d expect from Streisand, who has never been one to necessarily follow the status quo more than is necessary, which helps makes all of her films enticing in their own way.

We should not let the presence of actors like Jeff Bridges and Lauren Bacall (in arguably her final great screen performance before her retirement) distract us from the fact that The Mirror Has Two Faces is very much designed to be a vehicle for Streisand, who delivers a stellar performance that she probably could have easily have done without much effort, but still feels like she is genuinely giving us strong insights into the character she is playing. Bridges and Bacall are wonderful and suitably captivating, with Bacall in particular being given the opportunity to play into the caustic elegance that seemingly disappeared as this generation of glamorous stars gradually started to pass away. However, there really isn’t all that much for them to do on their own, with the characters essentially being defined around Streisand’s performance, servicing her and making sure that she is being developed in a way that is interesting. You cannot blame the director for choosing to place herself in the role – and while it sounds like it is a vanity project without much merit, there’s a vulnerability to what she’s doing when playing the role of Rose Morgan that is quite enticing. She’s sensitive and complex, the proverbial “ugly duckling” that has a third-act epiphany that not only looks irrelevant, but that anyone can be attractive if they believe themselves to be worthy. It’s the quality that propelled Streisand through an industry that constantly suggested that she change her name and appearance or face the risk of never reaching her full potential – and just like Streisand, Rose shows her disdain for conventions and finds it within herself to shine, adoring the reflection she sees when she looks in the mirror. It’s a tremendous performance that is so much more than a limp vehicle for this supposed diva and her incessant need to remind us of her immense star quality.

However, we cannot look at The Mirror Has Two Faces without commenting on some of its shortcomings, which are unfortunately a bit too noticeable to be excused. Beyond Streisand’s magnetic performance (the camera truly has always loved her), as well as her capable and brilliant co-stars, the film is really just an exercise in seeing how far she can throw a few generic tropes before it all falls apart. At over two hours in length, the film spends far too much time justifying its existence than it does actually moving along and getting to a coherent point – nearly the entire third act is a repetition of the same taut refrain – these two individuals love each other so much, they’re driven apart by the force of their passion, rather than being pulled together, which is an interesting concept in itself, but not one that is particularly well-executed here. There are intriguing ideas in this approach, but by the third or fourth time they express their undying devotion, the audience is ready to head for the exit, since we know exactly how the film is going to end, not with a bang but rather with the same predictable whimper we have seen in nearly every romantic comedy from this era. This doesn’t mean we aren’t substantially moved by the conclusion of the film, since despite its shortcomings, The Mirror Has Two Faces is still a very sentimental film, and plays our emotions in the way onto a well-formed romantic comedy can. It may be predictable, but this is only part of the charm, and we find ourselves being thoroughly charmed, which is a lot more than can be said for some other entries into the genre from around this time.

When it comes to lush, detailed filmmaking, it is not difficult to see that Barbra Streisand is one of the great storytellers of our times – her output as a director may be relatively small and limited to only a handful of films, but they’re undeniably very poignant and meaningful works that are very close to her heart, if not in terms of the specific story or subject matter, at least the themes they represent. The Mirror Has Two Faces is filled to the brim with mid-1990s romantic comedy conventions – a sentimental storyline that is drawn from every cliched film from the era, charismatic performers playing archetypal characters, and an overly emotional tone that brings both joy and sadness, all constructed all well-defined lines of what constitutes a solid romantic film. Yet, it’s still incredibly enjoyable, with Streisand’s vision being one that allows her to make some interesting decisions, while still working with the elements that are tried and tested, and proven to be reliable enough to keep us engaged. There’s a lot of valuable content at the heart of The Mirror Has Two Faces, a film that has been unfairly maligned as just another trite romantic comedy designed to showcase its leading stars – and while this is true to an extent, it is also really endearing in its own way, and once we get on the wavelength and are able to find charms in Streisand’s lovable flights of fancy, the film becomes very special, and proves to be a lot more compelling than we’d expect based on a cursory glance.