Lars von Trier tries to sum Ingmar up with something like
“he was a shit but I love him!” and I suppose it takes one to know one. In
truth Mr Bergman can certainly be filed in the “complex character” section of
cinema genius but that’s a pretty packed category; he was “lonely in his soul”
as someone who knew him in later life put it which is an odd thing to say about
a father of nine who had many overlapping relationships, married five times and
who seems to have slept with every Harriet, Bibi and Liv he ever directed. Fassbender
may have been addicted to amphetamines but, it’s claimed, Bergman was hyper-sexual.
More than anything else though it seems that Bergman was
exceptionally talented and for this he may be forgiven with the usual caveats.
He was incredibly driven and occasionally merciless, in his third theatrical
production of The Misanthrope, he
ripped into his cast after they had deviated from his direction and singled out
up and coming actor/direct Thorsten Flinck for personal humiliation that still
brings a tear to this otherwise confident man.
Bibi and Bergman |
Excerpts from a 1971 interview with US talk-show legend Dick
Cavett are shown in which the still sprightly Cavett describes how nervous he
was with the great man, so much so that he called him “Ingrid”… he can laugh
about it now, just about.
Elliott Gould is effusive in his description of Bergman’s
direction, saying he was a director who put so much trust in his performers
telling Gould that “I will never mislead you”… Barbra Streisand, then in a
power coupling with Elliott, watched with awe. Liv Ullman, one of Ingmar’s
wives who I refuse to believe is 80, describes the director as her best friend,
welling up with tears a decade after his death… light and shade and, yes,
through a glass darkly.
Bergman's shock revelation to an astonished Dick Cavett... |
Instead, Bergman’s work was focused on his own experience
whether the specifically autobiographical Fanny and Alexander (1982) or based
on his own “key moments” as with Wild
Strawberries which featured one of my silent heroes, Victor Sjöström, as a
director realising his work has left his life behind when it is all so late.
Here Bergman had a man of substance like his own and, in spite of his worries
that the 77-year old would struggle he needn’t have worried. I’d happily watch
a whole documentary on these two and the making of that film.
His brother Dag is featured in a previously unseen
documentary, which Ingmar refused to allow screen during his lifetime – there’s
clout for you – and it’s not hard to see why. Dag felt that the younger Bergman
boy was more of a conformist swot than he and, indeed, more Fanny than
Alexander… either way they shared a tough upbringing with their father a strict
and very conservative parish minister.
Ingrid Thulin and Victor Sjöström in Wild Strawberries (1957) |
Director Jane Magnusson pulls together so many diverse
voices into a coherent and compelling narrative that presents the personality
of Bergman with an emotional richness that doesn’t shy away from his darker
tones.
The BFI’s Bergman expert Geoff Andrew, who programmed
last-year’s retrospective at BFI Southbank commented that while the anecdotes
are offered by many who knew him are illuminating, “…none, however, are perhaps
quite as revealing as Ingmar’s own testimony.” Indeed it his candour that gives
weight to those other voices and convinces you that we’re seeing an authentic
record of his life and personality.
Bergman in later life, still working... |
The film opens at BFI Southbank, HOME Manchester, ICA and
selected cinemas UK-wide from 25 January 2019 and this Friday's screening at BFI with include a Q&A with director Jane Magnusson. Details of the full list are on the BFI site.
You can also watch the new BFI trailer. Fascinating and disturbing all at the same time: a man absolutely driven but not always towards the empathy so deeply evident in his films... How does that happen in a person of such intelligence?
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