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Film: The Virgin Spring
Release date: 28th October 2002
Certificate: 15
Running time: 86 mins
Director: Ingmar Bergman
Starring: Max von Sydow, Birgitta Valberg, Gunnel Lindblom, Birgitta Pettersson, Axel Düberg
Genre: Crime/Drama
Studio: Tartan
Format: DVD
Country: Sweden
Winner of the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film in 1961, Ingmar Bergman's The Virgin Spring is part of Tartan Video's extensive 'Bergman Collection' on DVD, along with the director's many other masterworks.
Set in the barren yet beautiful landscape of medieval Sweden, the film centres on religious land owners Töre (Max von Sydow) and Märeta (Birgitta Valberg) and their virgin daughter Karin (Birgitta Pettersson).
Karin is appointed to deliver candles to the church, requiring a day's travel on horseback. She sets off in the morning with her adopted and heavily pregnant 'sister' Ingeri (Gunnel Lindblom), a secret Norse worshiper. Jealous of the undeserving levels of affection given to the spoilt Karen, Ingeri prays to Odin for misfortune.
An altercation during the journey causes the pair to part ways. Karin continues alone and soon encounters a trio of mischievous herdsmen – two adults and a boy. Taken in by their charm, Karin invites them to join her for a picnic luncheon that ends with tragedy. Karin is raped and murdered by the two older men and robbed of her best outer clothing. She is left half buried in the clearing.
As the cold winter night draws in, the herdsmen unwittingly ask for shelter at Töre and Märeta's farm. Worried about her daughter not returning home for supper, Märeta's worst fears are confirmed when one of the herders attempts to sell her Karin's clothes. Töre decides to take revenge...
If The Virgin Spring's basic narrative is familiar to you, that's because it was used as the basis for Wes Craven's seminal, iconoclastic exploitation debut The Last House On The Left (1972) and its own subsequent remake of the same name released in 2009. However, despite this familiarity and its aforementioned Oscar success, The Virgin Spring is a frequently overlooked item in the Bergman catalogue. There are two possible reasons for this. The first is the film's position within the director's somewhat impressive oeuvre; coming a few years after the one-two-punch success of The Seventh Seal and Wild Strawberries (1957) – two of Bergman's most famous works – and just before his much lauded 'Faith Trilogy' – consisting of Through A Glass Darkly (1961), Winter Light (1963) and The Silence (1963).
The second reason stems from Bergman's own apparent ambivalence towards the final product, disregarding it as being “dreadfully triste” as the film introduces “a totally unanalysed idea of God.” However, it is perhaps for the same reasons why The Virgin Spring is one of Bergman's most endearing and powerful films.
While the film may not offer an analysed idea on God, it does offer an analysed idea on something far more tangible: the family unit. Töre is a firm but fair patriarch, but is forever lenient when it comes to his daughter's wishes; much to the chagrin of his far more devout and straight-laced wife Märeta, who believes in a well disciplined household. As a result, The Virgin Spring plays out like a grim fable about the naivety of youth, which is true to the roots of Ulla Isaksson's script, itself adapted from a 13th century Swedish ballad entitled ‘Töres dotter i Wänge’. It’s also a befitting match with Bergman's penchant for bleak, introspective subject matter, which is out in full force here.
As far as the acting goes, Max von Sydow gives Bergman yet another excellent performance (they worked together on thirteen films in total) that doesn't overshadow the rest of the cast. After all, a fair amount of the film's screen time is also dedicated to Birgitta Pettersson's Karin and her fateful journey. Having worked with her previously on The Magician (1958), Bergman coaxes a strong performance from the young Pettersson as well as Gunnel Lindblom as rival adopted sister Ingeri; creating chemistry fraught with barely contained disdain. The film's final act, however, definitely belongs to Sydow. The preparations for his act of vengeance are simply sublime; wrestling a lone tree to the ground to stock the farm's bathhouse with nothing but the sheer determination to do it is a deceptively powerful moment. His insistence on cleansing his body before shedding blood not only makes for a very good build up to the act itself, but is very telling with regards to his character's moral and religious values. Murder is unjustifiable, even if it is for a good cause, and it’s interesting to see the film take a decidedly grey stance on the matter. Töre's vengeance is not the cathartic dispensing of poetic justice that it’s intended to be. It is a grisly and barbaric affair that burns through his very being and Sydow plays it beautifully.
Sven Nykvist's camerawork is strong and quietly impressive throughout, capturing the inherent beauty and bleakness of the Swedish countryside whilst simultaneously hinting at the grim unpleasantness to come. And while said unpleasantness may be somewhat tame by today's standards, it still packs an emotional wallop to say the least; more so than Craven's more famous re-imaging. Mainly because of Isaksson's economic scripting as well as Bergman's insistence on giving the characters enough time to bond with the audience, without resorting to clichéd schmaltz, only to sweep the carpet from under their feet. The results are subtle, but have a profound impact on the overall experience, with Bergman deftly able to switch between sombre and tense atmospheres merely through conducting his cast to perform a certain look or facial expression. A scene where the murderous herdsmen dine with Karin's parents and their farmhands is especially well realised and brilliantly taut, with the youngest of the trio – an unfair accessory to the other men's crime – ready to crack and confess at any second.
While it lacks the portentous grandeur of The Seventh Seal or the experimental flair of Persona (1966), The Virgin Spring is still Bergman at his best, even though he would be inclined to disagree. The final scene – Bergman's biggest bugbear; maintaining that it was a last minute addition – does display a certain amount of religious whimsy but it befits the dark, fable-like style exhibited throughout the rest of the film, as well as offering a strange sense of overcoming. If God does exist, he certainly moves in mysterious ways.
The Virgin Spring is a compact yet masterful piece of filmmaking from one of the great exponents of world cinema. Its measured pacing, exquisite camerawork and brilliant performances render it a haunting and searing masterpiece. Also, the simplicity and familiar nature of the story makes it a perfect entry point for those who are new to Bergman's work. Highly recommended. MP
Film: Wild Strawberries
Release date: 25th February 2002
Certificate: 15
Running time: 88 mins
Director: Ingmar Bergman
Starring: Victor Sjöström, Bibi Andersson, Ingrid Thulin, Gunnar Björnstrand, Jullan Kindahl
Genre: Drama
Studio: Tartan
Format: DVD
Country: Sweden
Somewhere in the midst of dreams and reality, connecting past memories to the present, bitterness with regret and emotional detachment to nostalgia, Ingmar Bergman delivers one of the most introspective films on man’s existence and what it means to have truly lived. It’s no wonder, then, that Wild Strawberries won the Golden Bear Award for Best Film at the 1958 Berlin Film Festival.
Professor Isak Borg – played flawlessly by Silent Film director Victor Sjostrom – is a 78-year-old physician set to receive an honorary doctorate from Lund University. In his old age, he’s chosen to isolate himself from social contact, and lives a perfectly content life engrossed by scientific study.
On the morning of his special day, though, the widower has a profound dream in which he finds himself in an unfamiliar part of Stockholm where none of the clocks have minute hands. He sees a hearse approaching ominously, and as the carriage passes by it gets caught on a lamp post leading to the coffin falling out of the back. The professor edges closer cautiously, and to his horror, an outstretched hand tries to pull him inside.
After this episode, Borg changes his housekeepers’ meticulous plans, and decides to drive to Lund himself via a visit to his mother. His estranged daughter-in-law, Marianne (Ingrid Thulin), who was residing with him throughout marital problems, chooses to accompany the professor on his journey so that she can return to her husband and reconcile their marriage.
During the ride, Marianne reveals to Borg that despite his external charm, the people closest to him recognise his manipulative and selfish character to the extent that his own son despises him. Thus in a bid to build a rapport with his daughter-in-law, Borg veers off-course to show Marianne where he used to spend his childhood summers.
Unexpectedly for the ageing Professor, though, the break awakens a sense of reminiscence from deep within, and he begins to have flashbacks of his first love Sara. Subsequently on his journey to Lund, Borg meets a number of hitchhikers such as young frivolous Agda and a middle-aged bickering couple, who all contribute to him re-evaluating his life...
Essentially, Wild Strawberries is a straightforward road movie, however, Bergman’s use of symbolism, flashbacks and some fine nuanced acting, particularly by Sjostrom, give the film enough depth to transcend its genre and provide an emotional hook for the viewer.
In the film’s opening scene, Borg is established as the archetypal lonely, cold and successful man by being introduced with markers of his lavish life, such as the grand house, an honorary degree, and his selfish actions towards the housekeeper. As the film progresses, though, the use of narration acts as a gateway inside Borg’s thoughts, rendering him more vulnerable and emotionally available.
Thus Bergman uses the road movie format not only as a physical journey from Stockholm to Lund, but a mental journey that explores Borg’s past as well, so that he can redeem himself from being unloved and troubled, to an endearing old man at peace with life. The style is pivotal to the film’s power, as it gives the film a solid enough structure - both in terms of plot and character development – to make it accessible to even mainstream audiences, which has often been a criticism of the Swedish director’s other films.
Another surprising aspect of the film, not often found in many of the director’s other dramas, is the use of subtle humour to gives the film a more watchable pace. This is particularly evident, though not exclusive, in the bickering between Borg and his housekeeper, which resembles a charming old married couple squabble over domestic issues such as packing a suitcase properly. This use of humour not only gives brief respite from the more serious issues but contributes into giving the film a warm ambience that complements the picturesque Swedish landscapes, soft affectionate tones and camera work.
Indeed, all of these characteristics are at their most potent in the nostalgic scenes from Borg’s past at the summer house. The laughter, music, variety of people and carefree gaiety in these scenes is a direct contrast from the present, which often has very controlled and self-conscious scenes with only one or two people in them. The resultant effect of this contrast creates a lasting yet intangible impression of lost youth certain to strike a chord with the majority of viewers.
Finally, the use of relationships between the characters is perhaps the film’s biggest strength, as each of them, from the carefree idealist youths to the married couple full of resent - and even Borg’s strong but callous mother isolated in her mansion - highlight different aspects of human nature. Bergman uses all of these characters to provide an overall positive message that it is better to let go of past regrets and take a chance on life than wither away all alone.
Wild Strawberries manages to combine a deeply profound and powerful message with mainstream accessibility that puts it instantly into the category of timeless classic. QA
Film: Winter Light
Release date: 19th November 2001
Certificate: PG
Running time: 81 mins
Director: Ingmar Bergman
Starring: Ingrid Thulin, Gunnar Björnstrand, Gunnel Lindblom, Max von Sydow, Allan Edwall
Genre: Drama
Studio: Tartan
Format: DVD
Country: Sweden
Ingmar Bergman is considered to be the epitome of high brow art house cinema, combining human angst for the exploration of big themes such as faith, mortality and the meaning of life with a deeply innovative and sober auteurial style that has led to many labelling him as the antithesis of Hollywood. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the second of Bergman’s ‘faith’ trilogy, Winter Light.
Set in a rural and isolated part of Sweden, the film takes place in a three hour window between midday and 3pm on a winter’s Sunday, and revolves around the village pastor Tomas (Gunnar Bjrnstrand), who has been suffering from a crisis of faith since the death of his wife four years earlier.
The film opens with the end of midday mass for a tiny congregation, including an easily distracted child presumably dragged to church by his devout grandmother, an atheist schoolmistress (Ingrid Thulin) with an ulterior motive for attending, and a young fishing couple.
Following the congregation, Tomas coughs and splutters his way through preparations for his next mass in the neighbouring town of Frostnas, when the troubled young couple come to him for advice. He swiftly sends them away, advising Jonas Persson (Max Von Sydow) to return for a more in-depth chat later. Subsequently, Marta, the schoolmistress, slips into the pastor’s office to enquire about her unread letter, and declares her love for him before leaving.
When Tomas is finally alone, he reads her scathing letter that makes him doubt his faith, and finally has time to reflect before Jonas returns, anxiously seeking counsel for why God would allow global atrocities to take place. Tomas, however, cannot provide answers but merely more questions regarding God’s silence, and admits that his own faith wavered after the death of his wife. Jonas leaves more confused than when he arrived, whilst Marta is overjoyed that Tomas has finally decided to renounce God for love.
However, as they start to make their way towards Frostnas for the 3pm mass, some unforeseen events prove that God moves in mysterious ways…
The films sombre and austere mood is set right from the opening bleak shots and silence; only punctuated by ominous church bells. This is a special kind of film, in which all of its aspects - the camera work, desolate sound, lighting, script and acting - are restrained, working in shadows and low key to conversely create a spiritual exploration for a God greater than the sum of its parts.
This contrast is no more apparent than in the twelve minute long opening scene. Bergman juxtaposes large open spaces shot in wide frame and extreme long shots with the tiny congregation to highlight not only the isolated environment of his film but how isolated man is from God as well. Then this effect is recreated through image and sound as the confident church organ, hymns and Tomas’s laborious preachy words exclaim devotion, yet the tight and intense camera work focuses intimately on solemn faces that betray doubt, fear and anxiety.
The stark use of light and shade is another key element in the film. Reportedly Bergman and his cinematographer, Sven Nykvist, spent days studying how the natural Nordic light created shadows in the church before shooting the film. A key example of the use of light is in the pivotal scene where Tomas – at his most vulnerable and isolated from God - echoes Jesus on the crucifix with his question: “Why have you forsaken me?” In this scene, after being in shadows for the whole film, surrounding by questions, he finally renounces God and is bathed in sunlight, as if being baptised by the Pagan, and earthly god symbolises his choice of corporeal love.
Indeed this leads to another of the Bergman’s techniques that make this film a cerebral masterpiece; the use of symbolism. Bergman makes every one of his ‘believers’ in the film have some physical ailment and cause of pain - from Tomas’s cold and the loss of his wife and Marta’s eczema-ridden hands to Algot’s limping leg. Each of the believers are suffering, and the film subtly investigates how much humans will endure for their faith.
Concurrently, Bergman puts his viewers through this dense dreary and claustrophobic film to ask them: “How much will you endure for the sake of art?” Although this is a motif he uses more pertinently in later films such as Cries And Whispers, it’s brilliantly implemented here in Marta’s 6 minute monologue, when Ingrid Thulin talks directly to the viewer. Framed tight and in an unflattering fashion, she details her insecurities and thoughts towards Tomas directly at the audience, rendering the viewer to feel completely uncomfortable with no escape.
Whilst Winter Light is one of Bergman’s shortest and bleakest films, the beauty of its craftsmanship, profound subject matter and simplicity lends to repeat viewing, and gives it an ageless quality. Perhaps the film was best summed up by Bergman’s own wife, who said "Ingmar, it's a masterpiece. But it's a dreary masterpiece." QA
Film: Fanny & Alexander
Release date: 16th November 2009
Certificate: 15
Running time: 180 mins
Director: Ingmar Bergman
Starring: Pernilla Allwin, Bertil Guve, Börje Ahlstedt, Allan Edwall, Ewa Fröling
Genre: Drama/Fantasy/Mystery
Studio: Palisades Tartan
Format: DVD
Country: Sweden/France/West Germany
Ingmar Bergman’s family epic won numerous awards on release, including Best Foreign Language Film, Best Cinematography and Best Costume Design at the Academy Awards (though Bergman lost out on the Best Director Oscar for the third time in his career, this time to James L. Brooks). The film is also effectively Bergman’s goodbye to the world of cinema (as other than work in TV, he never directed another major feature).
In Fanny & Alexander, we follow the lives of an aristocratic Swedish family of eccentric actors over the course of two tragic years.
It is Christmas 1907, and we are introduced to the family as they gather to celebrate the festive season. All characters in the family are instantly likeable, and all are facing problems in their lives. There’s the family matriarch, the widowed grandmother Helena (Gun Wållgren), who is coming to terms with the fact that her life has passed her by, that she is old and alone, despite the fact that her former lover, the Jewish merchant Isak (Erland Josephson), still loves her dearly. There’s also Uncle Gustav (Jarl Kulle), a sad old goat seeking the affections of a pretty young servant of the family, Maj (Pernilla Wallgren) and Uncle Carl (Börje Ahlstedt) who’s severely in debt.
The two characters referred to in the title are brother and sister: Alexander (Bertil Guve) is a 10-year-old with an active imagination, and Fanny (Pernilla Allwin) his younger sister. Their lives are changed forever when their father Oscar (Allan Edwall) dies suddenly and their mother Emelie (Ewa Fröling) remarries a tyrannical bishop (Jan Malmsjö). The siblings are torn from their loving family’s embrace and forced to live with Bishop Vergerus’s fanatically zealous family. Both children (but especially Alexander) have to grow up fast and come to terms with their new situation...
Fanny & Alexander is a visually magnificent film. Long shots take in every aspect of the Ekdahl’s beautifully luxurious family mansion, and Isak’s crowded, atmospheric and mysterious antiques shop. The striking contrast between seasons is also shown vividly through the scenery – from the comforting Dickensian winter evenings in a Swedish city to the sharp and crisp spring morning at the Bishop’s country house by a waterfall. This contrast is also evident in the presentation of the families – The Ekdahls are cheerful, warm and loving, and treat their servants as part of the family, whereas the Vergerus family are stern, cold and distant, their servants living in constant fear of the bishop.
In truth, Fanny & Alexander is a film of contrasts – youth and adulthood, life and death, good and evil, religion and atheism, luxury and frugality, kindness and cruelty. It’s a film about a boy approaching puberty who has to come to terms with the death of his father and a complete change in lifestyle and surroundings, in addition to everything else a boy has to face at that age. This is where one of the film’s greatest strengths lies – in the solid central performance of the young Bertil Guve, who sadly did not choose to pursue a career in acting after this, his film debut. He has no trouble in making us believe in Alexander’s plight, and really brings across how Alexander matures throughout the film – a scene where he attempts to stand up to the severe Bishop in defiance is an undeniable highlight.
The film has the feel of a stage production about it (fittingly, as the plot concerns a family of actors) and has the runtime to reflect it – at three hours long, you may need an interval or two! This is not a problem in the scenes directly concerning the exploits of the wacky family, but, at times, the film can drag – there are only so many rambling monologues and literary quotations anyone can take. It’s also hard to take some of the stranger happenings in the plot (admittedly, it’s easier not to take some of the more fantastical events completely literally, that is, unless you believe in Jewish magic!). As already mentioned, it is a film of contrasts, but the contrast between believable family situations and weird religious fantasy can be a little jarring at points.
Bergman’s final big hit is epic in every sense of the word – it’s a beautiful looking film full of sterling character performances and with the big ideas and runtime to match! You might find parts a little dragged out and preachy, and sometimes the fantasy element is taken a little too far, but that should not ruin your enjoyment of this family saga that is full to the brim with heart. SSP
