REVIEW: DVD Release: The Virgin Spring

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