Summer With Monika - Ingmar Bergman

Continuing with my "odyssey" (I hope that doesn't sound too pompous a term) through some of the films of Ingmar Bergman, I recently viewed Summer with Monika, which was originally released in 1953.

The movie stars Harriet Andersson and Lars Ekborg as young lovers who decide to escape on a boat to enjoy an idyllic sojourn on the Swedish coast and inland waters.

At the beginning of the film we are shown a dreary urban industrial landscape, in fairness the type of dark and shadowy world portrayed in many movies of that era, the "monochrome" 1950s. Both Monika and Harry endure a monotonous existence, and various pressures cause them to yearn for an escape from the constraints and claustrophia, and the small minded mentality of those around them. They both leave their day-jobs, and embark on the boat trip.

The sequences which follow perhaps partly hint at some social trends which were to become more topical and pressing in the ensuing decades; the desire to escape day-to-day conformism and straight society, and live an alternative lifestyle.  This was possibly not a great priority for people in the aftermath of World War Two, even in Sweden.  Popular culture in the main did not catch up with "moving on" until much later....

The nudity and sexual frankness evident in this film may have attracted much notoriety, but to me it hardly added to its appeal.  To be honest, I was more struck by the stunning shots of the Swedish countryside and coastline!

Initially, the two youngsters seem to revel and thrive in their new-found freedom and independence, sneering at the world which they have left behind.  However, all too soon the idyll begins to crumble, and the stark truths of human nature begin to close in.  There is no escaping some bitter realities, such as envy and evil, whatever the mode of living or the backdrop.

Summer may be presented here as a metaphor for something pure and idealistic.  As the season draws to a conclusion, the dream ends, and the venture becomes corrupted, with the pair resorting to theft to sustain themselves. Also, Monika falls pregnant, meaning that burdens and responsibilities begin to encroach. 

They return to the city, matters coming almost full circle, except for the fact that the couple have a child, and in some respects their predicament is more dire than it was to begin with.  Monika eschews total domesticity, the Summer's events having given her a taste for adventure and excitement.

Not as locked in the mind as some of Bergman's other films, but a hard-hitting and quite compelling examination of several aspects of the human condition.....

The Silence - Ingmar Bergman

Continuing my somewhat haphazard exploration of some of the films of Ingmar Bergman, I recently watched his 1963 film, The Silence.

This movie, quite controversial in its day, examines the tense relationship between two sisters, the story being set against the backdrop of an impending war.  The story commences during a railway journey, and then moves to an apartment in a fictitious European town.  This all allows for some rich metaphor, which it seems has been subject to varying interpretations and much debate down the years!

There is comparatively little in the way of dialogue in The Silence, which is quite apt given the apparent antipathy and tension between Ester (played by Ingrid Thulin) and her younger sister (Gunnel Lindblom). 

Much of the film centres on the conflict between the "intellectual", as represented by Ester, and the sensual, epitomised by Anna.

Johan, Anna's young son, seems to act as some kind of fulcrum, intermediary or interface, between the two sisters. At times, he appears caught up in the warlike emotion of the time, this perhaps symbolising also the struggle or conflict between Anna and Ester?  Much of the metaphor and potent imagery of the film is projected via Johan.

As the tale moves on, we see more clearly the nature of the relationship between the two siblings, and for me questions were posed about the motivations and genuineness of "love", and whether sometimes this is marked, plagued and clouded by feelings of possessiveness, jealousy and a need to control and manipulate.

The movie did make me think, as it touched on a few issues which have at times impinged on my own relations with friends and acquaintances.  Difficulty in seeing and appreciating the needs and desires of others, a reluctance to "let go", and a tendency to live at least partly through somebody else, rather than appreciating and  one's own vitality and "wholeness".  Can love be real and honest if we are excessively precious about how others wish to think and live their own lives?  Is love often proclaimed, but either mistaken and confused for selfishness or does it just become polluted, distorted and subverted by selfishness early on,or somewhere down the line?

I think that Bergman may also, by presenting these two divergent mindsets and lifestyles, represented by two individuals, have been hinting at the conflict and struggle which exists within us all, and our constant efforts to reconcile the two facets, and achieve a desirable balance.  The two elements often co-exist with difficulty, if at all.  A compromise, and practicality, is surely the ideal, but so seldom resolved satisfactorily in our minds....

I did not find The Silence to be as immediately satisfying and compelling a watch as some of the other Bergman films of that period which I have seen.  However, towards the end the essential hub of the story began to crystallise, and I would imagine that repeated viewings will facilitate the unpeeling of more layers, and yield greater understanding and insight.

Still a powerful and though-provoking piece of work....

Persona - Ingmar Bergman

Earlier this evening I watched Persona, a remarkable Ingmar Bergman film from 1966.

The film stars Liv Ullmann as an actress who suffers some form of breakdown, and becomes unable (or unwilling) to speak as a result.  A nurse, played by Bibi Andersson, is detailed to look after and care for her.

The pair eventually decamp to a secluded seaside retreat, which is where the most intriguing sequences in the movie unfold.  The nurse Alma bares her soul to the actress Elisabet, in some gripping scenes. The dialogue here is quite explicit and frank, considering that it was 1966.

As their time together progressed, it seemed that in some respects Alma absorbed aspects of Elisabet's personality, and that some general merging of personalities took place. What happened is open to several interpretations, but Alma was ill-equipped to cope with assuming facets of the actress's persona, including her demons and insecurities.

One of the cleverest parts of the film occurs where Alma recounts some details of Elisbet's personal and family life to her.  First of all, we see an image only of Elisabet's reaction to the revelations, and then the same dialogue is played again, but this time we just see Alma speaking the words.  My guess is that this effect was designed to convey the idea of "transference".

A quite disturbing, complex but nonetheless riveting film, with some trademarks of other Bergman movies, such as solitude, astute use of black and white, a secluded location, and images of rocks, beaches and waves.

I was highly impressed with the performance of the beautiful Bibi Andersson, as the nurse Alma, and Liv Ullmann is never less than fascinating to watch.

Ingmar Bergman

It has taken me a while, but I have finally got around to watching and studying some of the work of Ingmar Bergman. In recent weeks, I have watched three of his most renowned films.

First to receive my attention was "Wild Strawberries" from 1957. This follows an ageing professor on a road journey to a ceremony, where he is to be presented with an award. Despite his professional and academic accomplishments, the professor appears to have alienated many people, and to have become estranged from relatives and the world at large.

As the road trip progresses, the professor encounters people and places which cause him to re-evaluate things, coming to terms with his past, and finding some peace with the present. His faith in human nature is partially restored.

With understated but well-judged acting performances, this is ultimately an uplifting movie.

Next on my list was "Hour Of The Wolf", released in 1968, and starring Max von Sydow and Liv Ullman as a couple living on a remote and windswept island.

The couple are overtaken by a series of bizarre events and personal encounters.

This is more the type of movie which the public at large would associate with Bergman, and it is indeed quite bleak, this quality being accentuated by the location. This is probably not a film to be watched with the lights off!

Most recently I watched "The Seventh Seal", one of Bergman's landmark releases, again from 1957.

A rumination on death and faith, the work stars Max von Sydow as a knight returning from the Crusades, to be confronted by a country ravaged by the plague.

The film opens with the legendary scene on a beach, featuring the game of chess between Death and the von Sydow character.

As the knight and his companions travel inland, they are confronted by various manifestations of the plague, and against this backdrop Bergman examines the contradictions surrounding death and faith, and the varying ways in which humans address them.

"The Seventh Seal" is one of those films which one probably needs to view several times over, in order to fully absorb the multi-layered messages. On my first viewing, I found myself turning over in my mind various interpretations of each scene or piece of dialogue. I kept asking myself - does my interpretation actually correspond with what the director was really seeking to convey?

The film alternates between the sinister and the optimistic, with the latter providing some relief following the grim but compelling former.

"The Seventh Seal" is by no means an easy film to watch, but it is thought-provoking and in many respects inspiring.