Sunday, July 30, 2017
211 - Summer Interlude, 1951, Sweden. Dir. Ingmar Bergman.
In Summer Interlude, I suddenly felt that I knew my profession.
Ingmar Bergman himself made that statement.
This was his 10th film to direct, his 12th film to write, his 7th year to be a filmmaker. He had also spent three years as the theatrical manager of the Helsingborg City Theatre and another three years as the director of the Gothenberg City Theatre.
And this is where he felt he came into his own.
It is time for the dress rehearsal of Swan Lake, the ballet.
Marie is getting ready. A man stops by with a package. He delivers it to the theater manager at the office. Another man stops by, a journalist. He asks to see Marie backstage. He saw the man deliver the package and offers to take it to her. He says she is expecting him and that it is a personal visit and not a professional one.
The manager throws him out.
But he has his assistant deliver the package to Marie. The assistant smells something strange in the air.
Marie opens the package. She is seized with emotion. It is the diary of her first love. Her only love.
Rehearsal begins late. They are waiting for Marie. When it does begin a fuse blows and the light goes out. Something strange is in the air. Rehearsal is cancelled for the day.
Marie takes a boat to visit the spot where she first fell in love. With Henrik.
And we go with her to her memories of thirteen years before. When she was so young. And so innocent. And so full of life and hope and feeling.
How does it feel?
What?
You said you were in love with me.
You feel it in your chest and stomach. Your knees feel like they're full of applesauce, and your toes curl up.
I think it's in my skin. It's in my shoulders and elbows, and in the palms of my hands. It tickles all over.
They spend Summer days on the rocky shore. They swim in the sea. They kiss in the house.
"Days like pearls, round and lustrous, threaded on a golden string. Days filled with fun and caresses. Nights of waking dreams."
"A new room opened up in our minds."
"We had no time for sleep."
They spend all their time together. But they do not consummate their love.
Marie wants engagement first. Henrik says yes, but as it is Sunday, they will have to wait for the goldsmith to open tomorrow. She offers grass rings and 24-carat kisses. He consents. They are engaged.
They walk around the property and she hears the ominous sound of an eagle owl.
She is scared.
She asks him to hold her so that she will not break into pieces.
He holds her.
They are in love.
They are overjoyed.
They return to the water.
He dives off the cliff. . . .
He life is changed in an instant.
And she turns bitter. Angry with God.
Her cynical "uncle" stands at the ready to take her on a tour of Europe to get her mind off her troubles. To help her hide inside herself. To build a wall around her heart. To grow hard.
She will regret his influence later.
Back in the present she feels old. She looks in the mirror and sees her age. The theatre director sits with her. He is dressed like a jester. She, a ballerina. They make a humorously pitiful pair.
Marie has spent the past thirteen years throwing herself into her work. As a way of protecting herself. As influenced by her "uncle." She has hardened her heart and spent her life working.
And now she is tired.
Her theatre director sits with her and talks about how life is.
And she gets up and goes to rehearsal. The journalist is there. She hugs him. She stands on her toes to hug him. She stand en pointe.
She joins the rehearsal. She goes to work.
Bergman explores many of the themes that will recur often in his work.
Notice the season in the title. Notice the psychology of the protagonist. Young love. Lost love. Lost faith. Artistic excellence. Artistic work. Fear. Death.
Bergman does not have the answers. But he knows how to ask the questions.
* * * * *
But if you'd consider engagement, I promise you won't be disappointed.
Then we have to wait. The goldsmith has taken Sunday off and is lazing the day away.
My dear Sir, this kind of engagement is sealed with rings of grass and 24-carat kisses.
Swear you'll never ever look at another girl.
I swear.
Because if you do, the Devil will get you! And your teeth and nose and fingers will turn black and fall off. As for me, I'll be faithful for as long as I feel like it. And since I always feel like it, I'll be faithful till doomsday.
Now we're engaged. You go in and undress.
What an ominous sound.
Don't you know the eagle owl?
It's like a toothache in my soul.
Hold me, Henrik. Hold me so I don't break into pieces.
Is there any meaning anywhere?
No, my child. Nothing means anything in the long run.
I don't believe God exists. And if he does, I hate him. And I'll never stop. If he were standing in front of me, I'd spit in his face. I'll hate him as long as I live. And I'll never forget. I'll hate him till the day I die.
There's only one thing you can do. Protect yourself. Build a wall around yourself, so the misery can't get to you. I'll help you. I'll help you build your wall.
Women! Who can understand them?
I never have.
There you were in your black leotard.
She's stood there like that for 20 years, morning, noon, and night. Twenty years. She has eight years left, and then she's finished. Out. Toodle-oo.
I'm the ballet master. Don't forget that. I create. I grow older and more esteemed, no burden to anyone. But you'll be given your pension and sent packing, poor girl.
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