I've Just Seen: Cries and Whispers (Viskningar och rop) (1972)

 Director: Ingmar Bergman

Cries and Whispers, like Persona, looks at the complexities of female relationships. In this film the relationships are familial, between three sisters and a maid. Unlike Persona, where the two women seemed to be blurring into one another, two of the sisters in Cries and Whispers, Maria and Karin, struggle to overcome their own lives in order to support the dying Agnes. Only Anna, the maid, responds with complete love and devotion to Agnes in her pain.

The film doesn't follow a linear storyline, instead flashing back in time to memories of Agnes' childhood, Maria's infidelity, Karin's horrific episode of self-mutilation (which made me queasy), and Anna's reflection on her dead child. There is also a scene, which could be a dream or a real shared experience for the women, where Agnes comes back to life and begs her sisters to comfort her. This engimatic approach makes this a film one experiences and then pieces together afterwards.

The cinematography is utterly beautiful, with its etheral white costumes contrasted with the plush red furniture and decoration in the house. It keeps us entralled in this emotionally complex situation, as the sisters and Anna grapple with their own fears around death, their bodies, and questions of happiness and faith.

Like almost all of Bergman's films, I want to watch this again to see what a second viewing reveals about the characters. The film's overall tone is one of deep introspection that reveals many painful truths for the women (and the audience), yet the ending is one of quiet hope and joy for sisterly togetherness. As devastating as it is beautiful.

I've Just Seen: Persona (1966)

Director: Ingmar Bergman

I approach films that appear at the top of 'must-see' lists warily, worried that this 'great' film won't be as great as claimed; at least in my opinion. In the case of Persona this was heightened by the long wait I had to see it. Quickflix said they had the disc, but it sat in the dreaded 'long wait' part of my queue, then was moved to the even worse 'reserve,' which means they may get around to getting another copy some day (but don't hold your breath). Then suddenly the film appeared on a local free streaming site, with only a few days to watch it. After several tries it finally loaded.

Was it worth the wait?
Definitely.

It had been a while since I had seen a film that captured everything I love about film. Persona plays not only with ideas of identity and performance, but even the fact that this is a film, with the famous shot of the film itself appearing to burn up, and the film stumbling to find where it was. This is a film that provokes thought as you try to figure out what is going on, and yet really defies being boiled down into words. It's meaning is slippery, as it constantly reminds us that everything we are seeing is a performance, that the characters of the characters are just personas they had adopted, not real, actual persons.

I've recently been thinking about films shot in black-and-white that would be completely different (and not work as well) in colour. Persona certainly falls into this group. The greyness on the screen makes the melding of Alma and Elisabet's characters more acute, particularly as when a split screen momentarily splices them together.

Trust one of the greats, Bergman, to reignite my love for film, just when I felt I had seen the absolute best film had to offer. Persona moves past Bergman's existential interest in religion, which features heavily in his 1950s movies, into questioning our very sense of self and our projections of those beliefs.

I've Just Seen: The Virgin Spring (Jungfrukällan) (1960)

The Virgin Spring (Jungfrukällan) (1960)



Director: Ingmar Bergman

Each Bergman film I watch makes me love the director even more. While The Virgin Spring is not one of his most famous filmss or his best, it is a natural companion to The Seventh Seal, being set in medieval Sweden, and involving a crisis of faith for a character played by Max von Sydow.

There is a moral complexity to this apparently simple story of parental revenge. The titular 'virgin' Karin is a slightly spoiled young woman, who falls foul of some herdsmen; they return her generosity (she shares her meal with them) with rape and murder. We the audience spend the whole time thinking "No, don't interact with them!' while she displays the Christian teachings her parents have taught her, teachings which would usually be applauded. Her parents reaction to her awful death is to kill as well, an understandable act that goes against their beliefs (turn the other cheek, do not kill).

The film was controversial at the time for its rape scene. Though some of the impactis now lessened, such scenes are not uncommon in modern film, the passive bystanding perspective of the camera, and the quietness of the act itself (Karin cannot scream) makes it insidiously shocking. I felt her fear without even seeing her face.

The ending reminded me of the end of Ordet with its apparent sign of God's presence. This gives the film a more positive ending than The Seventh Seal, where God remains silent. As always with Bergman the cinematography is beautiful, the black-and-film working to place us in the medieval period, and underscoring the moral dilemmas at the centre of this story. It is sad, beautiful and quietly powerful.