Thoughts on Bergman

It’s always been a source of shame for me when I admit how many Ingmar Bergman films I’ve seen thus far. For a cinephile such as I and an undeniably influential and powerful filmmaker such as Bergman, there is little reason why I should have only seen 9 of his films. Imagine my surprise, then, when in my first college film class, my TA asked my class who their favorite directors were, and I was the only person to mention a non-American filmmaker (save for a few mentions of Hitchcock here and there.) More over, I was one of the very few people to mention a director who had made films before the 1970s. Hitchcock and Francis Ford Coppola were mentions otherwise, but the majority of my class (filled with self-professed lovers of the cinema and would-be filmmakers) believed that the most notable film auteurs were Quentin Tarantino, Robert Rodriguez and (gulp) Kevin Smith. Now I’m not here to debate the work of these three men; I just wanted to state my worried vision of the future where the next 30 years will be filled with young directors trying to emulate that kind of cinema. (As a side note, I listed Hitchcock, old school Woody Allen and Ingmar Bergman as my favorites.)

So, after hearing of Bergman’s death earlier this week, I began thinking about the films I’ve seen, and a little bit of those I haven’t seen yet. Each time I see a new Bergman, it’s been a new experience. Each of his films have a different taste to them, separate yet totally connected. His work travels from the light and whimsical nature of SMILES OF A SUMMER NIGHT to the starkness of THE SEVENTH SEAL. From the disjointedness and abstractness of PERSONA to the warmth of THE MAGIC FLUTE. Yet through all his works, the images he paints are undeniably beautiful. With the help of Sven Nykvist, the sumptuous photography of films like THE VIRGIN SPRING and CRIES AND WHISPERS, with its mind-boggling red/white/black palate insures that his films will not be forgotten long after first viewing.

Bergman’s body of work is such that any number of his films could be considered his finest achievement: THE SEVENTH SEAL, PERSONA, CRIES AND WHISPERS, and some of his films I have regrettably yet to see: SCENES FROM A MARRIAGE and WILD STRAWBERRIES, among others. Yet to me, his finest achievement will always be FANNY AND ALEXANDER. Despite its being Bergman’s most commercial feature, the wonder and magic that is imbued in every astonishingly-rendered frame is something to behold. I was lucky enough to see the uncut television version first, all in one sitting (with the occasional pause for bathroom breaks). It was during this five-hour stretch that I realized I had missed out on what would surely be one of my greatest theatergoing experiences: seeing a Bergman film on the big screen. His last US theatrically-released film SARABAND had never come to my area. But I found solace in that his body of work was easily obtainable, and I could enjoy his films as many times as I wanted.

But now that he’s gone, his work is put in a bit of a perspective. His films often focused on death, yet that did not make them depressing affairs. They did not make light of the subject, either. Yet through it all, through the grimness that is tied to human mortality, Bergman managed to find light. Each of his films is an experience, and a different one for whoever watches them. He will be sorely missed, but we must take comfort in knowing that his work WILL live on and be discovered by generations beyond our own. For even though most filmmakers-to-be will declare THE LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy and 300 as the greatest films ever made, there will be a select few that will travel further into the world of cinema. And when they do, Ingmar Bergman will be at the top of the list.