BTXXXVII 1963: Winter Light

Winter Light (Nattvardsgästarna). Ingmar Bergman. 1963. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐.

1963 was a particularly busy year for Bergman: I’ve got five things from that year scheduled here.

There’s nothing in 1962, though, so perhaps there were just a lot of stuff percolating… Bergman turned down a 24x pay raise from MGM and stayed in Sweden.

Watching this straight after the 1961 The Pleasure Garden is rather a shock, though. Sven Nykvist is really coming into his own here: Very painterly scenes and shots.

The Bergman foundation web page on the film is amusing.

I have like less than zero interest in the main theme of this film (god and stuff), but it’s a stunning film. Ingrid Thulin is marvellous, and Gunnar Björnstrand plays against character as a bad priest.

This post is part of the 87 Bergman Things series.

BTXXXVI 1961: The Pleasure Garden

The Pleasure Garden (Lustgården). Alf Kjellin. 1961. ⭐⭐⭐★★★.

Bergman thought it was about time that Svensk Filmindustri did a proper colour film, but he didn’t have time to do it himself. So he co-wrote the screenplay (with a pseudonymous credit) and left Alf Kjellin to direct it.

It was pretty much universally panned at the time, but Bergman himself thought that it was kinda cute.

And it is. It’s a romantic (but melancholic) farce of a sort… Unfortunately it’s also kinda boring despite theoretically quite funny lines and likeable actors. It’s just so… pedestrian. Everybody does their best, including the soundtrack, which tries its hardest to convince us we’re looking at a screwball comedy.

The director moved to the US a few years later and did mostly TV shows.

The copy I watched was apparently shown in the afternoon on Swedish television in the 90s, recorded to VHS, transferred to DVD, which I then bought from the infamous Bergman bootlegger.

This post is part of the 87 Bergman Things series.

Cornucopia

I ordered a couple of mini-comics from Quimby’s Bookstore, and I got an amusingly large stack of … stuff.

At least I think all this was from Quimby’s; I unpacked a lot of stuff at the same time. I can’t think of where else this would come from.

First of all, the two comics I bought: Two issues of Sporgo by Laura Pallmall. Really interesting books.

And included was this cut-out mask by Dame Darcy…

Two issues (or whatever) of, er, a diary? About a guy who goes to jazz shows? Luke You is apparently the writer, and I like reading about jazz.

The second er issue is scary-looking: It’s a folded hand-written (photo-copied) sheet of paper inside a semi-transparent paper bag, stapled shut, and the envelope has been painted over with watercolour paint. I hope. At least it doesn’t actually smell anything much, despite how it looks…

Could be blood.

A little pamphlet with pictures from a Springfield Women’s March…

A folded sheet of typeset text of automatic writing, I think. Issue 127 of Friday Night in West Ealing? Will morning ever come?

Another with handwritten text about art shows, but is that issue 401 of Rut Rut Rut Rut…

Lots of bookmarks.

A minicomic. Does that say Cincignat? Unlucky 13? Perhaps.

Yet another zine (“The OneSheet”); this time it’s an interview with the guy pictured on the front there.

Two copies of the ElfQuest “ashcan”; it’s basically an ad for ElfQuest. But twice.

Some photo booth pictures; no text anywhere on the strip.

Some inhumane cards…

Postcards…

An issue of Witchblade! Of all random things in this package, I think that’s the randomest. (That’s a word.)

Except for this issue of the Proletarian.

Among many interesting articles, there’s one about how the bourgeois press is so focused on the environmental effects of the Standing Rock struggle: Nobody writes about the sky-high casualty rate of the people working in the oil industry, or how many people are killed by shipping oil in other non-pipey ways (every four days an oil train explodes in Ontario, apparently (I read it here so it must be true)).

The solution? Overthrow capitalism.

I approve wholeheartedly.

I can just imagine the Quimby’s employee standing at the cashier, filling my order of Sporgo, and then shovelling in random items from stacks of free zines and stuff left at the shop.

Is the employee smiling? I think so.

BTXXXV 1961: Through a Glass Darkly

Through a Glass Darkly (Såsom i en spegel). Ingmar Bergman. 1961. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐★.

Harriet Andersson is back! After the relationship with Bergman ended (and Bergman started one with her sister), she’d been gone from Bergman’s films for some years. Along with Gunnar Björnstrand and Max von Sydow, this little film has an extremely solid cast. Even the kid who plays, er, the kid is excellent.

And, since it’s about god and stuff, it’s another Oscar win for Bergman.

It’s the first film done on what was to become Bergman’s main scene for his subsequent films: The Fårö island. And Sven Nyqvist is back behind the camera, so everything is finally in place for the next decade’s worth of iconic films.

But if you had an idea of a prototypical serious Bergman film, this fits all the cliches: Insanity, god, plays, summer. It’s still pretty awesome.

The final Oscar-trolling scene is kinda ridic.

This post is part of the 87 Bergman Things series.

BTXXXIV 1960: The Devil’s Eye

The Devil’s Eye (Djävulens öga). Ingmar Bergman. 1960. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐★.

The studio had bought the rigths to a dusty Danish comedy called The Return of Don Juan. Dymling and I entered into a shameful agreement. I wanted to direct The Virgin Spring, which he detested. He wanted me to direct The Devil’s Eye which I detested.

So another Bergman comedy, reluctantly made, and, as usual with these films, quite fun.

However, the plot has perhaps not aged that well. The vast majority of the film is dedicated to watching two men talk two women into their beds (separately), and there comes a point where that goes from amusing to abusive.

This post is part of the 87 Bergman Things series.