Random Thoughts

Behind The Seventh Seal (Bakomfilm Det sjunde inseglet). Ingmar Bergman. 1956. ⭐⭐⭐⭐★★.

The narrator on this short is the same as on the previous one, but I still don’t know who it is. Perhaps the script supervisor? The narration is very seat-of-the-pants: The narrator has obviously never seen the footage before, so she’s commenting on what she’s seeing in real time, which is kind of fun.

But it also means that she often doesn’t know what’s really going on in the shots.

Apparently most of this footage has been shot by Bergman himself?

I got it off of the torrentzes, but I would guess the origin is from an old Swedish DVD.

This post is part of the 87 Bergman Things series.

The Seventh Seal (Det sjunde inseglet). Ingmar Bergman. 1957. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐.

This is probably the one film everybody thinks of when you mention Ingmar Bergman, right? Very serious, filled with symbolism and religious anguish. As pop-culture penetration of art film goes, nothing beats Death on the beach playing chess.

And Max von Sydow, for the first time in a Bergman film!

I thought this film was from later in Bergman’s career, but here it is, in the middle of his sweetest comedies.

The film seems constructed to entice people to write treatises about it, what with the film commenting on itself and commenting on Bergman’s career and stuff. Just the stuff film nerds love.

This post is part of the 87 Bergman Things series.

Smiles of a Summer Night (Sommarnattens leende). Ingmar Bergman. 1955. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐.

“A romantic comedy by Ingmar Bergman.” Bergman was depressed but needed money, so he made this little masterpiece, which was also his international break-through, I think. It won prizes in Cannes and everything.

Gunnar Björnstrand’s glued-on comedy beard is rather disturbing, though.

“The last three years I’ve turned 29, which is nothing for a woman of my age.”

It’s a kinda perfect movie. You have to wonder about what’s going on at the set, though. Bergman’s relationship with Harriet Andersson (playing a significant part) was over, and Harriet’s sister, Bibi, makes her first appearance in a Bergman film. (They’d later become involved.)

It’s all so complicated. But we have this.

This post is part of the 87 Bergman Things series.

Princess!?

Such lighting.

Woman Without a Face (Kvinna utan ansikte). Gustaf Molander. 1947. ⭐⭐⭐★★★.

We’re diverging from the chronological Bergman thing again and skipping back from 1956 to 1947: To this Bergman-scripted, but Gustaf Molander-directed thing.

It’s weird being back in this period again after the 1955-56 streak of mature-ish Bergman films. It’s all artifice and stilted lines again.

It’s fun to see Alf Kjellin again, though, and it’s an interestingly convoluted story.

This post is part of the 87 Bergman Things series.