219 - Through a Glass Darkly, 1961, Sweden. Dir. Ingmar Bergman.
1 Corinthians 13:12 - For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face. Now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
A chamber play.
Four people in one location.
A house. A yard. A boat.
The father. His daughter. Her husband. Her brother.
The beginning of their vacation together.
Bach's Cello Suite Number 2 in D Minor.
In D Minor.
The four of them come out of the water and amble up the dock like the dancers in The Seventh Seal's final dance of death.
They discuss who will put out the nets and who will get the milk. They laugh. It seems like an auspicious beginning.
The father and the son-in-law go to put out the nets.
The daughter and her brother go to get the milk.
The father, David, is a writer. His books sell but he might not be that good.
The son-in-law, Martin, is a doctor. He loves his wife but cannot help her.
His wife, Karin, is sick. She knows. She tells her brother that her hearing has become more acute. Perhaps it was the electric shock therapy. She hears a cuckoo.
Her brother, Minus, is 17. He has grown tall. He does not have confidence that girls will like him. Karin loves him.
Minus is at that age where the urges and surges inside him leave him frustrated, and angry. He wishes he could talk to his father. Just once.
Martin tells David what Edgar the psychiatrist says about Karin. Edgar says that her sickness is relatively incurable. Karin knows she has it but not that Edgar says that. He says relatively because he has had cases where the patient was cured.
They have supper outside. Everyone is happy. They are all together. The food tastes great. Minus teases his father that he should write cookbooks instead of novels. They laugh.
Then in conversation David happens to mention that he will leaver after a month to lead a cultural tour in Yugoslavia.
The air is sucked out of the night.
Minus reminds David that he had promised to stay home after returning from Switzerland. David does not remember the promise.
All is awkward. And deflated.
David produces presents. Gifts from Switzerland. He excuses himself to go and get his tobacco.
While he is gone they open their gifts. The gifts are ill conceived. Perhaps hastily purchased at the last minute. Things grow more awkward.
Inside David weeps. He crucifies himself at the window. Or stretches out his arms anyway--as he mourns the struggle inside him.
The artist has given his life to his art. And has not had time for his family.
When he returns outside they put on their best for him. They thank him for the gifts. They blindfold him and lead him to his surprise.
A play!
They have constructed a small stage with lamps as footlights and a hut behind, functioning as a mausoleum.
Martin strums the guitar and starts the play.
The Artistic Haunting. Or The Tomb of Illusions.
Minus has come to the tomb to meet his love. Someone stirs inside.
Minus declares his love for her.
Minus is an Artist. But not one who has ever produced art. One who lives. His life is his art.
She invites him into the tomb to blow out three candles and join her in death forever. It will be his greatest work of art. He agrees to do so.
Instead he will go on living and die in obscurity.
David appreciates the play but feels pricked, like uncle Claudius watching The Murder of Gonzago, the play-within-the-play in Hamlet, as if his son is trying to tell him that he is wasting his life on his art.
David keeps it to himself. He applauds and celebrates their achievement. They all go inside. He sits by himself outside and smokes his pipe.
The family will have their vacation. And struggle. They all seem to love each other. And feel separated. And lonely. And longing for love.
David has been taking notes on Karin's illness. To use in a future novel. Karin finds his diary and sees that he is doing it. She feels betrayed. Her father is using her for his art.
There is no way out of it.
The writer writes what he knows. The writer knows his family. The writer writes about his family. The writer feels guilty for writing about his family. The writer cannot help himself. He must write. He must write about what he knows. He must write about his family. He must feel guilty.
Karin begins to see things.
She feels compelled to go upstairs into an empty room and to look through a crack in the wall.
She hears voices.
She passes through the crack in the wall. Or believes she does.
She cannot make love with her husband. He is patient. He loves her.
She seduces her brother. He is angry. She is confused.
They call the ambulance. A helicopter. They are on an island.
She goes to the room. She believes she sees God as a spider coming out of the crack in the wall. Coming out and trying to penetrate her. She is terrified.
They take her to the ambulance. The helicopter takes her away.
Minus has a moment alone with his father. He asks him questions.
David posits that God is love.
He struggles to answer Minus's questions but he does his best.
Minus does not care.
Minus is thrilled beyond measure.
He got to talk to his father. His father talked to him.
"Papa spoke to me."
This is the human condition.
The child longs for his father.
His father is silent or too busy.
The man longs for God.
God seems to be silent or too busy.
If only he would speak.
Spend some time with me.
Say something.
See me.
It is the mark of faith that God is there and that He is not silent.
But Bergman is not making a film about faith.
He is making a film about doubt. Or the struggle for faith.
He is struggling with doubt. Stemming from his relationship with his own father. And from his relationship with his own God. Or not God.
And there is room for that too.
This film is the first film Bergman shot on Faro, a key off Gotland, an island off the southeastern coast of Sweden. Bergman would go on to make several films there. And later live there.
It is also known for it cinematography and lighting by Sven Nykvist. He had made two films with Bergman before--Sawdust and Tinsel (1953) and The Virgin Spring (1960)--and the two would go on to make films together for years to come. Bergman had previously worked with Gunnar Fischer, on films from Port of Call (1948) to The Magician (1958).
Fischer was known for his expressionistic lighting. Nykvist was known for his more naturalistic and individually composed artificial lighting.
This is a new period for Bergman.
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