The beginning of a series of videos for the Criterion Collection, written and narrated by Yours Truly, on Ingmar Bergman’s collaborations with actresses. This was a major project for me, and it was an honor to pay tribute to these genius actresses (four in total).
First up: His collaboration with Liv Ullmann and Bibi Andersson, most famously in Persona, but in some later films as well, like Passion of Anna. He saw them as “like and unlike” each other, and used them in endless combination, obsessively.
Now live on the Criterion Channel on FilmStruck.
You need a FilmStruck account to see the videos, but hey, you should have signed up for FilmStruck anyway, so now’s your chance!
More to come.
Been anticipating this since all the Bergmans showed up in your monthly posts — which has lined up nicely with the retrospective rolling through the repertory theatre here — I’ve caught a handful, more of them surprising than I’d anticipated!
But as a Canadian, I unfortunately will have to wait until Filmstruck comes here (it’s been “in the works” for two years!)… will be one of the first things on the to-watch list when that happens! Congrats on the project!
Oh no, I’m bummed – FilmStruck has to get on the stick!! I had no idea you all had been waiting that long.
What Bergmans have you seen recently? Would love to hear your thoughts.
I saw most of the big canon titles when I started out on a Criterion kick in university, so I’ve focused on the ones that would be new to me:
The Touch and Shame were the big revelations. I… had kind of, before this retrospective, in my mind, put Bergman in a box. “He’s the director of words, the endless theoretical monologues, the Men and Women and the space between, the humourless severeness of life.” But, of course, the deeper I go, the more general dismissals like that fail to capture just what his films often contain. I think Shame might be the best of his I’ve seen, period — the thing that gets me is just how *funny* and tender it is, in the midst of everything else that happens to the couple, the things they witness and throw at each other.
I still have the occasional hangup with him — I liked the first Fårö Document, but the second one, Fårö Document 1979, was (I thought) almost entirely focused on men and their opinions, rather than the variety of life there. Parts of Summer Interlude and Hour of the Wolf didn’t work for me.
Still, taken together, it’s a body of work that seems inarguably worthwhile — when I tired of his writing, there’s still the performances; where his work is problematic, it still reveals something, rather than hides something, about the way people treat each other. I found To Joy particularly revealing (and frightening) in this way.
The one thing I wished had been a part of the retrospective — and which your project seems to address — is just how Bergman’s work requires so much more than just looking at Bergman. It’s a typical auteurist thing, but the program notes for the series here is all Bergman Bergman Bergman, oh and also the cast and cinematographer. I know the centennial is the reason for all this, but to me Ullman, to take just one example, is as much the author of the work she’s a part of — and her directorial work, especially the material that is directly connected to Bergman, would have been a nice inclusion to the series. But I know there are rights and other things that can get in the way of that.
In any case, a rewarding, occasionally frustrating experience, and one I’ll continue with — I think there’s still one more segment of the retrospective yet to show here (it’s been divided into four parts over the course of the year), and I’m sure I’ll make it out to at least a couple more.
This may be controversial but I think Shame may be his best movie. I fluctuate on this, but it’s a masterpiece, either way. It’s certainly one of the best war movies ever made – and it just doesn’t get any attention for that, not that I’ve been able to tell. It’s so visceral, it puts you so much in the thick of it, you think, “Yes. This is how it would go.” And I agree: it’s that relationship at its center that makes it all possible. I was rocked by it when I first saw it. I thought it was amazing – and very down to earth (for Bergman).
// where his work is problematic, it still reveals something, rather than hides something, about the way people treat each other. //
Yes! This is the gift about being such a personal artist – he’s unrelenting with himself (Winter Light!!) – and because of that, his work can’t help but reveal. I think sometimes his reputation, gigantic though it is, is a little … off?? I find much warmth in his work, much tenderness and love. Of course it’s usually tormented but that’s just more evidence of how personally he works, how much he uses of himself.
Some people just have more to share than others … or what they have to share is richer, more dramatic, more divided, more passionate, and etc. Bergman is definitely one of those. It’s a rare thing because all humans’ emotional capacities – and ability to turn these capacities into art – are not created equal. I think Scorsese is in this pantheon. Godard – even though his sensibility is colder. But still: he’s putting himself into his work, always.
// It’s a typical auteurist thing, but the program notes for the series here is all Bergman Bergman Bergman, oh and also the cast and cinematographer. //
This kind of thing drives me CRAZY – and I would hazard a guess it would drive Bergman crazy too – since he so much loved actors, as only a man of the theatre can love actors – and was not a control freak with them – he cast people so he could see what they would do. He didn’t tell them what to do. He LOVED talent. He was in flat out AWE of Harriet Andersson. So yes: focusing just on his contribution is just a mistake – film is a collaboration – I don’t know why this is so difficult for people to understand. Bergman understood it!
// but to me Ullman, to take just one example, is as much the author of the work she’s a part of //
absolutely. And he felt that way too. He had no idea what she would do from one moment to the next – it’s why he films her up close, why he’s so into her – what will she do next?? SHE was the lead in these things. all of his actors were.
His job was to cast really really well – and he was a genius at casting. These women are all so different – it’s hard to picture any of the actresses in Cries and Whispers swapping roles – He just understood this on a level very few directors reach.
The retrospective sounds great. There are so many of these I have never seen on the big screen. Seeing them projected large brings a whole new level to them.
I really enjoyed your video essay. It prompted me to watch Persona again. What a rewarding experience. You’ve spoken about how great actors are great listeners – Liv Ullmann’s role is about 96% listening. Thinking about how she might have created that role made me think of the old cliche about how there are two kinds of genius: the kind who does everything you do but better and faster, and the kind who does things you could not even imagine. She’s the second kind!
Do you know how extensively they rehearsed for this? I know it’s the job, but making yourself so open multiple times is a daunting prospect. I’m reminded of my negative reaction to Harvey Keitel pushing Robin Wright during her full body capture scene in The Congress. You schooled me that it was part of his job to get her into a place where she could give the performance she needed. Bergman and LU and BA may all be geniuses at their respective crafts, but there must also have been an amazing level of trust and professionalism to get what they got.
Over the last few days (beginning before I rewatched Persona) I have been obsessively watching a couple of versions of Sinead O’Connor singing Sacrifice. With the focus on her expressive face (a la Nothing Compares 2U), and the faces in Persona I’m reminded of Alexander Pope’s line “The proper study of Mankind is Man.” There is so much mystery in the question “what is that person thinking?” and how we are drawn to faces and the pleasure or fear or simple curiosity of guessing what is going on behind them. And then there’s the wonderful permission that close ups in cinema give us to indulge in speculation about a person’s thoughts and feelings. Persona is voluptuous in that way.
Do you think the doctor’s diagnosis of Elisabet’s malady was essentially correct? It makes viewing the movie a different kind of experience to have a something like a guidepost, rather than being completely on one’s own The viewer can use that in a similar way to having a narrator – possibly an unreliable one. It also makes me think that a very good story could be told about how the doctor acquired that insight, what experiences might have led her to that.
And your essay also prompted me to watch The Magician for the first time. What a fun, funny, shocking movie. Was it really a happy ending to escape a physical prison just to return to the prison on being an illusionist? “If only once…” – I kept hoping for a miracle like The Virgin Spring, but that never came. When I looked at his filmography, I saw that TVS is the film he made next. Interesting.
I was struck that the character name Vogler was in both movies and so I took a short trip down the “why did Bergman re-use so many names?” rabbit hole. Did you know that there are only 56 people in Sweden at present with the last name of Vogler? And yet Bergman used it in these two films, The Hour of the Wolf, and After The Rehearsal. “Vogler” comes from the German word for birdcatcher, and that Bergman said he had a fear of birds. Fun facts from the rabbit hole. Not sure what to do with them. I enjoyed Olivier Assayas’ essay on the film.
Based on the conversation you and Michael had, I need to watch Shame.
Thanks for pointing at these wonderful things! It’s one of the things I love about your site.
“what is that person thinking?”
The humbling thing about the time we devote to this is that we (as a species) aren’t particularly good at it, at least per this this essay. I am sure that there are people who are very good at it, but I’m not one. It’s such a pleasurable thing to do, and certainly valuable – and yet we are mysteries to each other.
Hey – thanks for the link to that article. I look forward to reading it.
I think one of Bergman’s obsessions is that we can never ever know what is going on in the mind of another.
We are alone, always alone.
Mutecypher – thanks for watching!
As far as I know, they really didn’t rehearse that much at all. Bergman liked to be surprised. He cast well and then sat there, agog, at what his actors could do. He didn’t plan stuff out. He also found stuff in the editing room (like the famous shot of the two faces blending. He didn’t plan that. He figured it out during editing.)
He did extensive rehearsals, of course, for his many many theatrical productions (and an argument could be made that he was almost more important as a theatre director than a film director).
Bergman was not a pushy director – like Kubrick, or Beatty – making actors do 100 takes. Or like that scene in The Congress. He didn’t have to tell Harriet Andersson anything. He didn’t have to urge Bibi or Liv into anything. Harriet knew better than he who her characters were. His job was to capture her genius.
This is one of the reasons why this series is so important – not just because I’m involved in it. :) The auteur theory ignores actors. The director gets all the credit. This happens with John Cassavetes too – and Cassavetes hated it. He was like “I have no idea who these characters are. You should talk to Gena and Peter about it.”
Rare!! Bergman’s ideas were so personal, so deeply felt, that you can still feel them on the screen – it’s an extraordinary body of work and his repertory of actors – the same people over and over and over again (and like you say the same names over and over again – he uses the same character names endlessly) – were tuned into his energy. It took Ingrid Bergman a while to trust Bergman – to give up her Americanized movie-star style – and submit to his style. (And she’s incredible. It works because that character is a performer – there is a stylization to it but it reads as her narcissism.) But the rest of Bergman’s repertory were placed in an atmosphere of total trust. Bibi Andersson is as much of a genius at acting as Bergman was at directing. She could go where he needed her to go!
// Do you think the doctor’s diagnosis of Elisabet’s malady was essentially correct? //
It’s a really interesting question, isn’t it?
I love how it remains unresolved. The one scene where she watches the monk burning on TV is the only scene where I feel like Bergman is pushing some kind of theme – it’s too self-aware, too of-the-moment. It’s weird – but I always forget about that scene when I rewatch the film. It’s the only disposable scene. It’s placing a meaning on her “breakdown” (i.e. “Of course she’s breaking down. The world has gone crazy.”)
But there’s a mystery at the heart of it. Like Holly Hunter’s character in The Piano who also stops speaking. Why?
I think it has something to do with control. If you don’t speak? You control the room. It seems like it would be the other way around. But Bergman/Ullmann show that that’s a lie. Through Liv’s silence – Bibi over-shares and destroys herself.
What do you think of the diagnosis?
I think there’s a lot of hostility in Elizabet’s refusal to speak. It’s HUGELY egotistical. In being silent, you don’t disappear. Instead, you become the center of attention.
/What do you think of the diagnosis?/
I think there is a lot of truth in her having a moment of existential horror – so Elisabet’s initial break in the theater began with that. Though, she spoke to her colleagues after the performance and apologized, not chosing to become mute until the next day. So I think the doctor captured the impetus. But I think that over time your comment about ego, hostility, control, and a need/desire to be the center of attention became the reason for continuing. The doctor flattered her, in a way, by leaving out the pettiness in her diagnosis. I assume good intentions (a return to health) on the part of the doctor, so she knew or hoped that a relaxing convalescence would eventually get Elisabet to return to speaking. And pointing out Elisabet’s pettiness was not appropriate at that time – even if it was 3 months after the theater incident.
I’ll probably think something different the next time I watch.
I agree with your comment about the burning monk on the TV – unnecessary. Everyone is horrified by those images. There’s nothing special (or insightful) about it. Though… that may also have been Bergman’s point.
// And your essay also prompted me to watch The Magician for the first time. What a fun, funny, shocking movie. Was it really a happy ending to escape a physical prison just to return to the prison on being an illusionist? “If only once…” – I kept hoping for a miracle like The Virgin Spring, but that never came. When I looked at his filmography, I saw that TVS is the film he made next. Interesting. //
Isn’t The Magician so fun and weird??
I love the ensemble – they’re all already there! And he will start to futz with the personae they bring to the table – Bibi’s, the great Ingrid Thulin’s – everyone else. There’s what they bring – their essences – the way they would get cast by a conventional director – and then there’s how Bergman sees them, as mysterious, as changeable, fluid – what is the mask hiding?
Oh and for sure you must see Shame.
I think it’s one of his very best. Would certainly rival many “dystopian future” bullshit movies coming out today. It’s very scary.
Let me know what you think once you’ve seen it!
I watched Shame yesterday. I am going to need to watch it again later, not when I’ve watched several of his movies in a short time. It struck me as very good, and placing it in a chaotic “small” war was unusual (in my Bergman experience) – though I suppose you could say running from the Black Plague in The Seventh Seal is a similar setting. Placing the film in the real world, without the elements of fantasy, made it powerful in a different way. And the mounting chaotic horror, the search for traitors and spies, the increasingly sordid and deceptive things needed to survive – as you say, very different from today’s dystopian future movies.
//And the mounting chaotic horror, the search for traitors and spies, the increasingly sordid and deceptive things needed to survive//
Yes. It felt like … oh, this is how it actually might go and this is how you would react, and how scary it would be. It’s so unlike his other stuff!
I realize I’m coming back to comment on this a week later – that’s how I roll right now apparently.
Also, I’m really loving Filmstruck/Criterion. Michael, I hope they get to Canada soon!
I got a kick out of Roger Corman describing how doing “average business” when he put Cries and Whispers into drive-ins in the autumn – and getting a “thanks for finding me an audience I never considered” letter from Bergman.
I also watched The Passion of Joan of Arc. That was a hell of a movie.
I would love to hear about how the collaboration works with you and Criterion for the video essays you are doing. Do you chose the excerpts? If it’s too early for you to talk about it, needing to wait until more are released, I’ll remember to ask later.
// I got a kick out of Roger Corman describing how doing “average business” when he put Cries and Whispers into drive-ins in the autumn //
HAHA I mean, can you imagine??
Had you seen Joan of Arc before? It’s really something, isn’t it – keep your eyes peeled for any screening in your general vicinity- sometimes they do it with live music. even if you just see it in a theatre with a pre-recorded score – it becomes quite literally overwhelming. FACES, it’s all about faces! What a movie!
I hadn’t seen Joan before. It was just astonishing – I suspect a real work of love/passion/faith on the part of all involved. Teaching at a Catholic all-girls school has really made me appreciate the serious, vibrant, loving, living faith of Catholics today. And it is odd/surprising/fascinating that Joan was not made a saint until 1909, more than 500 years after her birth.
I would love to see the movie in a theater!
You mentioned FACES, I got through the first third of the Cassavetes/Rowlands film – but that was the 4th film I watched that day and had to just go to bed. A serious bit of bingeing before returning to work as a teacher this Monday. I want to return to that one. All the talk about faces in Persona (and all of Bergman) made me want to watch that one. I wasn’t into it long enough to see if there were any thematic or stylistic similarities to Bergman.
From further up…
//I realize I’m coming back to comment on this a week later – that’s how I roll right now apparently.//
I have a buddy who sometimes takes 8-10 months to respond to an email. I’ve learned not to feel ignored! I’m glad for you (and your bank account) that you are so busy with work. It’s cool to see your stuff appearing in so many places!
Falconetti’s performance is one of the greatest – if not the greatest – performances ever captured onscreen. I can’t remember who said that the movie felt like it was made during the time period it portrayed – i.e. before motion pictures were even invented.
also Antonin Artaud with a cameo. Who doesn’t want that.
Oh and the process with Criterion – yeah, it’s really fun. I’ve only done 4 of these things now (including the one about Gena Rowlands) – and so it’s a weird thing – I know the clips I want to discuss, and why – whatever clips are somehow illustrative of what I’m trying to get at. They seem to trust my instinct on that – maybe they do with all their writers, too. I mean, I’m picking the obvious choices really (the face blend in Persona, etc.) – but then, for example, there’s this one scene in Devil’s Eye that exactly illustrated what I was trying to get at with Bibi Andersson – and she does it in Persona but I wanted to show it was one of her “things” – so I put that in there. The only real requirement with choosing clips is that they be in the Criterion library. Rights issues, etc. That was kind of a bummer with the Gena one because that meant I couldn’t really reference her work with Woody Allen – except for briefly. Since it was about her work as a whole – as opposed to just her work with her husband – that was hard. Also, not all of Cassavetes’ films are in the Criterion library – I think Minnie and Moskowitz and Gloria (where Gena is just out of control) so far are not on Criterion – I’m not sure why. They brought out a huge Cassavetes box set – with 5 films, and then my video appeared on the release for Love Streams (which came out by itself). Anyway, so there are some limitations.
And then the real trick is to not describe too much. To set up the clip and then be quiet and let the clip be the illustration.
A lot of this really becomes clear when we go to record it. I consciously write it to be read out loud – not too literary or flowery – which isn’t my style anyway. It’s not meant to be an academic paper – it’s supposed to feel conversational. It’s fun to write that way, a little bit more colloquial.
It’s a fun process and the editors at Criterion are just amazing. and the editors do such an incredible job putting together the clips!!