Ingmar Bergman's films relentlessly pick at the scabs of faith, love, family, health and time, fastidiously locating the crises lurking within each.
They emphasise the collapse from stability towards spiritual, intellectual, emotional and physical anguish. In doing so Bergman seemed to particularly have it in for his female characters, and this, combined with his tendency to bed his leads, might sit uncomfortably with modern standards. Nevertheless, it’s tempting to speculate whether it was precisely this level of close-studied intimacy that helped him write the roles and learn how to get the best out of his actresses. What’s clear is that these talented women regularly delivered extraordinary performances for him, helping lift his films from coldly intellectually studies into fully fleshed…
Ingmar Bergman's films relentlessly pick at the scabs of faith, love, family, health and time, fastidiously locating the crises lurking within each.
They emphasise the collapse from stability towards spiritual, intellectual, emotional and physical anguish. In doing so Bergman seemed to particularly have it in for his female characters, and this, combined with his tendency to bed his leads, might sit uncomfortably with modern standards. Nevertheless, it’s tempting to speculate whether it was precisely this level of close-studied intimacy that helped him write the roles and learn how to get the best out of his actresses. What’s clear is that these talented women regularly delivered extraordinary performances for him, helping lift his films from coldly intellectually studies into fully fleshed and lacerating dramas.
He nurtured many wonderful acting partnerships - Harriet Andersson, Liv Ullmann, Ingrid Thulin, Bibi Andersson, amongst the women, and Erland Josephson, Gunnar Björnstrand, and Max von Sydow, amongst the men. One of the joys and sorrows in watching his films chronologically is seeing these brilliant performers age before our eyes.
His notable collaborations extended to the great cinematographer, Sven Nykvist, who from Sawdust and Tinsel onwards became an almost inseparable ally in helping light and frame Bergman's stories to beautiful and striking effect.
Bergman, arguably, made his most direct mark through his writing. He was heavily influenced by his experience in theatre, creating scripts that could easily have passed as plays. Often these were chamber works, focused on a small number of actors, with simple dramatic plots penetrating complex themes. He achieved this through precise and intelligent command of language, both verbal and non-verbal.
He was also famously a music lover, and often approached his films as he might a piece of music, using his knowledge and love of it to help structure, inform and in the cases of To Joy, Winter Light and The Silence to conceive of the films. His actual use of music was often spare, making it all the more effective when it was used, including some astonishing examples like the mother and daughter performances of Chopin in Autumn Sonata, and the humanity of Bach in the otherwise suffocating Cries and Whispers.
His films were mostly dark themed, yet despite their high incidence of cruelties and mental illnesses, they were full of humanity and even moments of warmth. For all of his reputation as a miserablist, his characters suffer because they are profoundly alive to the desires of life and faith.
His filmography tended to narrow as he got older and to intensify into highly concentrated works centring on often ferocious psychological interrogations. But near the very end he managed to gather up his entire career, and crown it in one final, glorious swan song, the extraordinary Fanny and Alexander.
