The Touch may be one of Ingmar Bergman’s plainer stylistic efforts, but his wielding of theological symbolism to interrogate a broken love triangle is deft, bitterly driving the Madonna’s degraded image and a tainted Garden of Eden between his doomed lovers.
A Lesson in Love is an impressive display of comic versatility for a relatively minor Ingmar Bergman film, sending his sober marital drama crashing into idiosyncratic foibles where screwball humour, sophisticated wit, and savage feuds intermingle.
Ingmar Bergman’s tribute to artistic expressions that speak directly to the human soul resonate loudly all through To Joy’s visual and musical orchestrations, each one harmonising to pinpoint the intersection of love, tragedy, and wistful longing shared by two married violinists and their perfectionistic, fatherly conductor.
As Bertil and Rut ride a train through a war-ravaged Europe in Thirst, the nostalgic affairs and heartbreaking traumas of their past rise to the surface in uneasy flashbacks, bringing a faintly nightmarish edge to their festered love which Ingmar Bergman contains within claustrophobic interiors, seeing them viciously pour their frustrations out onto each other.
Romantic melodrama may be the basis of Port of Call’s romantic storyline, and yet in the authentic location shooting and miserable suffering of its suicidal protagonist, Ingmar Bergman imbues it with a discomforting grit inspired by Italy’s neorealist movement, setting in a bleak tone that sees old traumas surface and threaten the chance for new beginnings.
An air of fleeting transience hangs over A Ship Bound for India, embodied literally by the industrial ships sailing from one dock to the next, and formally weaved into the narrative as an extended, nostalgic flashback, revealing a confidence in Ingmar Bergman’s direction that probes the Oedipal dynamics between a sailor, his father, and his mistress.
She Said wisely does not dip into the familiar aftermath of Harvey Weinstein’s sexual abuse allegations, but rather centres on the painstaking investigations that toppled over dominoes towards the earth-shattering exposé, building an ensemble of affecting performances atop a sensitive screenplay that carries us through stretches of otherwise uninspired visual direction.
Ingmar Bergman screenplays are rarely so blunt as the melodrama he delivers in It Always Rains on Our Love, and yet the touch of magical realism he injects into this fable of endless hardships is charming nonetheless, formally rounding out a heartfelt call for compassion towards society’s young outcasts.
Though Aaron Sorkin’s screenplay for Being the Ricardos may at times indecisively tug its narrative in multiple directions at once, it is tough faulting the electric dialogue that keeps us glued to Lucille Ball’s behind-the-scenes television troubles, holding firm to its empathetic understanding of the comedic television star.
