[Såsom i en spegel]
1961 - Sweden
Director
Ingmar Bergman
Starring
Harriet Andersson, Gunnar Björnstrand, Max von Sydow
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Quietly absorbing, disturbing film about a woman’s madness (everyone knows how I love those!) and her family powerless to help or understand her. I love the ‘chamber drama’ style for Bergman: on the one hand it allows him to be severe; it really locks the viewer into stark, confrontational images; and Nykvist’s photography is beautiful, natural, intense. At the same time, it allows him to probe deeply into his characters’ minds, and this is a richly drawn portrait of all four characters’ mental landscapes. The father, who confuses art and life and tries to be honest about his darkest thoughts; the husband, who is earthy, compassionate, and perhaps a bit blind to the truth; her brother, awash in teenage angst and confusion. Then Karin, whose illness convinces her she hears voices which command her and that she will soon see a god. Bergman equates steadfast, unreasonable faith with utter lack of free will, ultimately leading to insanity. And her god is a terrifying, terrifying thing…
(spoilers) I disliked the ending, in which the father equates God instead with love, love of all kinds and manifestations. It seemed out of character and unnecessary to the film, simply sticking words into the father’s mouth because he wanted someone to say them. It also doesn’t seem like the conclusion the film should naturally reach — but I’m anxious for it to be torn down in the films to come.
Aside: I think I have a thang for Max Von Sydow in thick-framed glasses.
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Waterloo Bridge 1931, James Whale
Red-Headed Woman 1932, Jack Conway
Millie 1931, John Francis Dillon
The Woman Accused 1933, Paul Sloane
So Big! 1932, William A Wellman
The Awful Truth 1937, Leo McCarey
Conquest 1937, Clarence Brown
It’s Love I’m After 1937, Archie Mayo
The Mad Miss Manton 1938, Leigh Jason
Algiers 1938, John Cromwell
A short digression on Charles Boyer…
Yes, I am endeared. I am, in fact, ensorceled. His inhumanly arched eyebrows, his little winks and half-smiles, and that ability to at once maintain full control of his material while shining the spotlight on his costar: yes, that is talent; yes, this is love. And no, Cluny Brown, it’s not just the cocktails giving you that persian cat feeling… I think we both know too well it has a bit to do with Mr Charles Boyer. Rawr.
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