The film makes great play with the colours red and white, some critics finding this gynacological mise-en-scene misogynistic, right down to fade-outs steeped in blood-red. Certainly, in the first scene, a harrowing close-up on Harriet Andersson in bed, her face disfigured by unthinkable pain, it is difficult to tell whether she's self-pleasuring, menstruating or in dying agony.
But although the film's imagery is direct, Bergman's narrative - two sisters and a maid await the death from cancer of the heroine, each looking back at a (generally negative, even horrific) sexual past - is as convoluted as ever. The film opens with an astonishing visual symphony of images symbolising dawn and time, a prelude to this story about women who live in a domestic, interior, 'female', timeless time, apart from the real world.
Their 'revenge' on this situation, if you like, is to demolish the certainties of 'reality' - time and narrative become displaced by dreams, visions, imaginings, delusions, fantasies. Even the integrity of the flashbacks, which seem to do so much to reveal charater, are called into question by later information.
Once again with Bergman, genuine physical pain is contrasted with psychic fragmentation, serving to break the coherence of the plot, out of which seep only cries and whispers, the unspoken but persistent horrors and silent Francis Bacon screams that comprise life for most of us.
It counts among my 5 favourite movies of all times, of the movies I've seen, together with Gone With the Wind, The Sound of Music, Fanny and Alexander and possibly Grease.
I first saw this film when I was 17 in 1982 in a small, historic re-run cinema in Evanston, Ill. I remember when the movie ended and the lights came on, I was stunned. I remember thinking I had never been more stunned by a movie. I was so stunned I had to sit a few moments more in my seat before leaving. (And I have not been more affected by a movie ever since, especially considering the churning out of pretentious, trying-very-hard-to-be-works-of-art movies (and music, and movie stars and architecture etc.) in the 1990s which is probably a consequence of the moral decline of our youth-oriented, cynical, shallow, souless, commercial, sorry, hip-hop, flashy, oh-so-clever times.)
Possibly, for some people, their personal temperament may influence whether or not they would like the film. For it seems air-tight pessimistic. So some people may not like it. I liked it for what seems to be its artistic expression of the meaninglessness of life. Some of the notable things about the movie seems to be Harriet Andersson in her screams of agony as Agnes, which seems so real that I kept trying to figure out whether it could be acting. I have not seem something more morbid. Some other memorable moments: When the priest begs Agnes: "Agnes my dear child listen to what I have to say to you." And ofcourse, the ending seems to be supreme in its irony. The camera zooms in closer and closer as silence prevails. And the voice over as she continues her thought. It makes you feel that it is moments such as this that elevates the film to a work of art.
Very moving film dealing with the big issues of existence. Speaking as a lay person, it appeals to my emotions as being a great work of art.
The story centers around a woman dying of cancer being cared for by her two sisters and their attentive maid. During this ordeal, the characters are haunted by episodes from their past. The images of blood and sexuality are harsh and stay with the viewer for a long time.
The picture quality is stunning, particularly for a thirty-year-old movie. Criterion has done another magnificent job in preserving a classic for the ages. Among the extras is a recent, rare interview with Bergman.
My experience with Bergman's work is new -- it in fact starts with this film. I'm looking forward to seeing more of his films very soon.
I'm glad I watched it but I doubt I'll return to it again. Needless to say the cinematography is marvellous, of course, and Criterion's anamorphic transfer is wonderful, with no damage to the negative and all the colours (with red predominant) vivid and natural. 'Autumn Sonata' was good but this is outstanding.
As usual I viewed it in the original Swedish, but for once the English dubbed soundtrack is recommendable as it was done with the original cast under Bergman's supervision.
In some ways the highlight is the 52 minute interview with Bergman and a long time collaborator. His intensity comes over powerfully. A great extra.
