Persona (1966)

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I am not a great intellectual. I’m not even that smart. When I talk about movies I try to impart at least some sense of their themes and meaning, but I’m not very good at it.

I tend to connect to movies with my gut not my brain. I talk about them from an emotional standpoint not necessarily an intellectual one. I don’t know if that’s good, or bad, but that’s the way it is.

I love Ingmar Bergman’s films. He is, perhaps, one of the most intellectual filmmakers to have ever made a film. I do connect to them emotionally, but I have a difficult time understanding why. Persona is one of his most difficult films to understand, and yet I love it still.

I struggled with my review over it because I felt I needed to talk about it from an intellectual point of view, and yet I’m not sure I understood anything about what it means. You don’t have to. It stands on its own as a beautiful mystery.

Foreign Film February: Smiles of a Summer Night (1955)

smiles of a summer night

Several years ago, probably during one of their semi-annual 50% off sales, I bought the Criterion Collection’s big boxed set of Ingmar Bergman’s movies. Ingmar Bergman is a titan of cinema. He’s widely considered one of the world’s greatest film directors, having helmed many of the greatest movies ever made.

His films are intellectual, somber, sometimes experimental, and almost always challenging. He made movies about life and death, spirituality, and religion (he made an entire trilogy from the Silence of God). As such his films are often difficult to watch. I love many of his films and yet this boxed set has set on my shelf mostly gathering dust. Bergman films are a bit like “Dark Stars” from 1969 – infinitely rewarding, but you’ve got to be in the right head space and you’ve definitely got to pay attention to what they are trying to do.

Since it is Foreign Film February I knew I wanted to watch a Bergman (I think I said the same thing last year and didn’t manage to do it). The Criterion set doesn’t present the films chronologically, but rather as one might if you were creating a film festival for the director’s works. Previously, I randomly picked films out of the collection to watch but this time I decided to begin at the beginning, the Collection’s “Opening Night” selection, Smiles of a Summer Night (1955).

Smiles was made at a difficult time in Bergman’s life. His previous two films had not done well and the studio essentially told him if his next film wasn’t a success he was done. His personal life was in turmoil and, according to the liner notes included in the Criterion set, he decided he was either going to make a new film or commit suicide.

So, Ingmar Bergman, a director famed for his sober, austere films about the meaning of life, during one of the lowest points in his life made a light comedy.

And honest-to-God it is funny.

When I read Bergman had made a comedy I figured it would be more like Shakespearian comedies, meaning that it wasn’t a tragedy – that it didn’t end in the death of everybody. But no, it is a laugh-out-loud, full of clever wordplay and incident comedy.

It is a comedy of manners. It reminded me of the works of Moliere or Oscar Wilde or some other writer I studied in school and have long since forgotten.

The dialogue is clever and droll, and Bergman uses such a light touch that one sometimes has to stop and wonder where all this fancifulness came from.

Fredrik Egerman (Gunnar Björnstrand) is a successful, respected, middle-aged lawyer. He’s married to the much younger Anne (Ulla Jacobsson). It is his second marriage, his first wife died some years ago. Before he met Anne he was involved in a torrid romance with Desiree (Eva Dahlbeck), a famous actress.

When he learns that Desiree is in town starring in a show, he gets two tickets and decides to take his wife. But before they go they take a nap together (as one does). While sleeping he reaches over and caresses Anne. She’s pretty excited by this because even though they’ve been married for a couple of years they’ve never had sex. He doesn’t want to spoil her or some such nonsense. So he’s caressing her and getting all sexy and stuff and then he says her name, and how much he loves her. Except the name he says isn’t Anne, it’s Desiree.

Oops.

They go to the theater, but Anne is understandably upset. When she realizes that the star is named Desiree and that her husband keeps looking at her through the opera glasses, she feigns illness and goes home. Once he’s settled her into bed he slips back out and goes to the theater.

They go back to their place where they barb, jab, and argue over why they broke up in the first place. Frederik solicits help from Desiree for his marital strife, but it is clear they both still have some feelings for each other.

Then Count Carl-Magnus Malcolm (Jarl Kulle) shows up. He’s Desiree’s current lover and he’s insanely jealous. He’s also married. To a girl named Charlotte Malcolm (Margit Carlqvist). At one point without a bit of irony, he utters the line “I can tolerate my wife’s infidelity, but if anyone touches my mistress, I become a tiger.”

Naturally, the five of them wind up together at a dinner party before the film ends. Plenty of mix-ups, double entendres, and verbal jousts ensue. It really is astounding just how light and effervescent this film is. It is hard to believe that the same man who directed this film would go on to direct The Seventh Seal and Wild Strawberries just two years later.

That isn’t to say everything is carefree and happy in this film, it is still a Bergman after all. There is a duel in which two characters play Russian Roulette. And one of the film’s best gags comes at the end of a suicide attempt.

One can’t help but wonder what cinema would be like had Bergman gone on to make delightful romantic comedies. Who knows what else we might have gotten. Instead, we got a plethora of serious dramatic masterpieces. I’ll certainly take that any day of the week.

Johan Falk Trilogy

johan falk trilogy

My wife is a big fan of British crime stories and period dramas. I like them too but she likes to put them on while she’s crafting or sewing doll clothes (have I mentioned she’s a doll collector? and that she makes super cool costumes for them?). Which means she watches a lot of them.

We cut the cord years ago but try to limit our streaming choices down to one service per person in our family. Recently she was subscribed to BritBox, which like it sounds, contains lots of British programming. But she’s ready to switch to something else. I’ve been trying to talk her into giving MHZ a try of late. They have a lot of interesting shows from European countries that are not England.

I used to get a lot of DVDs from them and generally enjoyed what they sent. I’ve posted several of those reviews here lately and this is another one. Johan Falk was actually a pretty long-running Swedish series, but for whatever reason, MHZ packaged three of the films as a trilogy. It is pretty good. You can read my full review here.

Autumn Sonata (1978)

autumn sonata criterion bluray

I have not yet watched an Ingmar Bergman film for this year’s Foreign Film February. I really should remedy that. I bought a big boxed set of his films from the Criterion Collection a couple of years ago and haven’t begun to really scratch the surface of it. Bergman films tend to be very weighty, which sometimes makes them difficult to watch. They are often rewarding, but the effort it takes to watch them often makes me put them off. Foreign Film February is always a good excuse to make me make that effort, but I haven’t yet.

Goals!

I did watch this one several years ago and reviewed it here. It is definitely a rewarding watch.

Beck: Volume 7 & 8

beck tv

I’m never entirely sure how I should title these posts where I’m just linking to reviews I did for Cinema Sentries. I suppose I should research the best possible SEO way to capture Google searches or something. But I never was good at that sort of thing. Beck is a Swedish detective series that I apparently thought was pretty good. I watched it and wrote the review back in 2013 so my memory is sketchy at best. I’ve since read one of the books in the series and felt basically the same about it – ’tis good but not great.

Wild Strawberries (1957)

wild strawberries criterion

I often think that Ingmar Bergman is the reason most Americans don’t like foreign films. Bergman often made emotionally heavy, deeply symbolic, and frankly not all that easy to watch movies. He is the epitome of the intellectual, art-house type of filmmaker that I think a lot of Americans think of when they think of foreign language films. The fact that there are all kinds of films – silly comedies, dumb action films, etc. – being made in countries that aren’t American doesn’t matter. Foreign films = inexplicable movies that only smarty-pants film critics like.

Or something. I generalize. But it is true that when I talk to my friends who don’t like foreign films they seem to think that all foreign films are European art-house films of the kind that Bergman specialized in.

Which, is perhaps, a weird way of saying I actually love Bergman. I find most of his films to be utterly fascinating. Wild Strawberries is one of his best. Criterion released a Blu-ray of it a few years back, and I’ve got a review.