The premise of The Glassworker has a non-linear structure to it. The drama oscillates between the past and the present while introducing a bunch of characters that are diabolically opposite of each other in every aspect. So when you are introduced to Vincent, you see him as a young boy learning the art of making glass sculptures from his father who is a pacifist (a person who doesn’t support the sentiment of war), and the reason that he and Vincent are outcast. Vincent on the other hand, falls in love with Alliz, the daughter of a Colonel and a war veteran who takes pride in serving his country. And essentially, their love story is coincided by the onset of war that takes place in the region causing a bittersweet feeling to the proceedings.

It is always tragic to witness a love story that is torn apart by the situations, but the presence of a blue light has a recurring significance in the drama that not only links the two worlds of the past and present but also offers a comforting form of symbolism to the proceedings while playing a significant character. In the present, you see Vincent being directed towards a trunk that holds a letter of longing from Alliz. Elsewhere in the past, you see the blue light being a guiding force for two kids while engulfing them in a castle of love. For Vincent and Alliz, the time on the beach (at two different instances) is the only time you see them alone – but both have a different context with respect to their love story. There is innocence in one instance, and longing in the other. One offers the start of their love story, and the other a new beginning. In a way, Vincent and Alliz are soulmates that complete each other – Alliz asks Vincent to make a glass sculpture for her thereby inculcating a sense of confidence in the latter, while Vincent encourages Alliz to play the violin, almost doubling up as his muse. Clearly, art co-exists in their world while being a solid foundation for their love story, ironically amidst the contrasting setting of the war.

The proceedings have a bittersweet tinge to the drama, particularly with respect to the sentiments that the characters share about war. For Tomas, Vincent’s father, war is a cowardly tool of destruction whereas for Colonel Amano, Alliz’s father, it is about nationalism and pride. And so there is an inherent commentary on war, that indirectly acts as an invisible war between the characters that clearly has its after-effects on Vincent and Alliz. In a way, the two represent the folks of the two warring countries who wish for peace but are torn apart by the war of ideologies, both literally and figuratively. Therefore, it hardly comes as a surprise that there are cracks that start to develop between the two, even with the inclusion of a third wheel who is more on the idelogical lines of Colonel Amano, and hence, an automatic choice imposed on Alliz. Having said that, Colonel Amano does share an anti-war sentiment discreetly, and you get a glimpse of it in an important scene. After literally arm-twisting Tomas into helping them in the war with their glass works, his attention is diverted to a piece of art that resembles a mother with her child (filled with a blue light). And immediately, there is a sense of calmness engulfing him as he volunteers to purchase the piece of art for his daughter. In a separate scene, you see him gifting a violin to Alliz, reclaimed from the ruins of war, almost symbolic of the fact that war would die down one day but art would live on days after the artist passes away. For Alliz, music was a form of escapism from her reality.

Yet, the growing distance between Vincent and Alliz cannot be discounted, as you see them conditionally distancing from each other due to the effects of war, a symbolic representation of two warring countries again. There is an inherent tragedy that engulfs the narrative, one after the other with respect to Vincent, particularly when you see hate getting the better of him – his father loses his arm and he is witness to an aerial raid resulting in a blast that transpires in a train featuring Alliz and her family. And this is also when the drama becomes ambiguious – years later you see Vincent trying to destroy the letter of longing penned by Alliz, only for the blue light to engulf him and transport him into an imaginary world with Alliz. This can be interpreted in two ways – the blue flame is the Djinn that acts as a symbol of hope and redemption, a spirit that brings the two worlds together. The other being, the blue flame offering a glimpse into the desires of Vincent who also may have been killed in the aerial raid, a case in point being the manner in which the blue flame opens the film in an outwardly manner while shrinking at the end of the film. So the writers offer you an interpretation of a happy ending, and a sad one summed up in a screenplay that is simplistic but very well written.