Abend der Gaukler

Poor old Frost performs as a circus clown, carrying a heavily burdened scowl and quite a frown, since his wife went to sea, for the army all to see, ridiculed without makeup or a gown.

Poor Albert is the big circus ringmaster, the performances are all a disaster, the takings are low, he know wants to go, but his wife won't have him back to harass her.

Anne travels as Albert's companion, but theatre Frans has set his sights on, getting her to perform, with a pendant to charm, but the lustre is shallow and a con.

Albert hears of Anne's closed candid meeting, in the circus ring Frans' smugly seating, there follows a brawl, the ringmaster does fall, the cuckold takes another shameful beating.

The humiliation of three tortured souls of the circus, as their dignity is stripped like flesh from a freshly slaughtered carcass.

While traveling in caravan through the country of Sweden, one member of the decadent Alberti Circus tells the owner and ringmaster Albert Johansson (Åke Grönberg) a sad story about the clown Frost (Anders Ek): seven years ago, his wife Alma (Gudrun Brost) was surprised by him bathing naked in a lake with a regiment. When the circus arrives in the town where Albert's wife Agda (Annika Tretow) and sons live, he decides to pay a visit with his young mistress Anne (Harriet Andersson) to a famous local troupe to borrow some capes, hats and vests for their tonight show. They are humiliated by the director Mr. Sjuberg (Gunnar Björnstrand), but he lends the pieces, and the lead actor Frans (Hasse Ekman) gives an unsuccessful pass on Anne. When Albert decides to visit Agda, the jealous Anne meets Frans, who seduces her with an apparently valuable necklace, and they have a love affair. Anne finds that the necklace is actually worthless and returns to the circus. Meanwhile, Agda refuses to accept Albert back and he sees Anne leaving the theater and going to the jewelry. During the exhibition, Albert and Anne are submitted to humiliations by Frans.

"Gycklarnas Afton" is a dark and unpleasant story of the cruelty of mankind, where losers, desperate people without any perspective in life, are humiliated by the cruel human beings, reaching the lowest human condition. The clown Frost and his decadent wife Alma; the aging and tired owner of the circus trying reconciliation with his former wife to have a stable life; the mistress Anne trying to find another man to support her; all of them stuck together in a decadent circus due to the lack of perspective in life and courage of committing suicide. The cinematography in black and white is amazingly beautiful, and the introduction sequence, with the caravan moving in the dawn, is very similar to Brazilian classic "O Cangaceiro" (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0045595/), of the same year. Harriet Andersson is extremely sexy and gorgeous in the role of Anne. My vote is eight.

Title (Brazil): "Noites de Circo" ("Nights of Circus")

Ingmar Bergman has left a reputation as one of the premier cynics of the cinema. A lifelong agnostic, he always held the belief that God did not exist and this life offers little, if any condolences to counter that feeling.

After experimenting with various genres and trying to find his niche in the late 1940s, Bergman slowly began to establish himself as the finest Swedish film director ever known. This film, released in 1953, reminds me in many ways of the great Federico Fellini's 1954 film La Strada, also about a circus troupe and also focusing on the relationship between the aging circus leader and his female companion. Despite this common ground, the two great directors differ in that Fellini turns his attention to the joy and zest of performing and the difficulties that still lie within. With Bergman, troubles always abound and there is no shortage of sadness and sorrow. Indeed, none of these characters are truly happy in the way of the definition. Yet, they continuously search for some sort of satisfaction and happiness. Life is a long, sluggish journey that may never find its ultimate goal.

Despite the downbeat tone, Bergman was a fantastic cameraman and his early films show him finding his footing, foreshadowing the great films he would make later in his career. Here, his collaboration with the great cinematographer Sven Nykvist has its beginnings as we see some fantastic angles, mirror shots and uses of depth of focus and framing. The acting is terrific, particularly by Harriet Andersson, and the script supports the story well. A small gem, but nevertheless a gem from the great Swedish director Ingmar Bergman.

It's amazing when a film is disliked and misunderstood when released, and is then praised and labelled as a masterpiece decades later. Ingmar Bergman's 'Sawdust and Tinsel' is one of those films. I'm not exactly sure why the film was regarded so lowly, but thankfully, it is now recognised for what it is.

The film isn't quite Bergman's best, but it is certainly close. 'Sawdust and Tinsel' is a pessimistic, yet truthful study of human nature in relationships. The film's central character, Albert, is a ringmaster of a travelling circus, and is passing through the town where his wife and children are living. The pair have been separated for some time and are clearly dealing with the situation in different ways. His wife Agda has moved on. Albert is still affected and has been unfaithful to his wife, as he is travelling along with his mistress. What unfolds is an interesting character study that looks at human insecurity, disloyalty, selfishness, unhappiness and emotional strain.

It's no wonder that Ingmar Bergman is titled 'The Swedish Master'. 'Sawdust and Tinsel' is full of insight and certainly shows Bergman's talent. He does some excellent things with mirrors in certain shots and creates a lot of mood throughout the film. The highlight is, without question, one of the first scenes in which Frost, the circus clown, comes to collect his wife Alma from the ocean, where she is swimming with an army regiment. Every element works and Alma's selfishness and Frost's pain are clear in the scene, adding to the effect. Practically everything that Bergman has done in this film is excellent. The only point of criticism though, is that the cinematography is a bit hit and miss, as some scenes are too bright, giving them an overexposed look. Then again, it could be that the film has just deteriorated with age.

This is an under-appreciated film that is certainly worth viewing. It is quite hard to come by, but maybe one day, someone will do a proper release on DVD.

Sawdust and Tinsel- or The Swedish Master, or The Naked Night, take your pick on a title- is about a man who can't stand himself in his profession, but loves it so much at the same time: the low-brow sensibility of it, the wildness, the freedom to cut it loose with drink or with mad gimmicks during a show, and abandon of the rules when confronted with the law. But he also has a love whom he has his problems with, and her with him as well, leading to an infidelity drama that plays out harshly. Ingmar Bergman said this was a personal film for him, in a big sense, because of the connection to the excitement of the profession being played out against personal turmoil and trouble in professional terms (Bergman even said it was easier for a scrawny director to have a "fat actor" play the part of Arthur). It was reviled by critics and a box-office flop- one of the more expensive films, relatively to others, Bergman made up to that point.

It's a film that, seen years later now through the prism of Bergman as one of the world's true artists in the profession, also is deceptively high-brow about the world of low-brow, where experimentation filters in early on and Bergman makes one of his more distinctive marks as a director more-so than a screenwriter (usually, however much Bergman is always an absorbing and challenging director of scenes, writes like no other). The opening scenes, with the story of the sad/pathetic clown Frost (could be a distraction if overdone, but it's an interesting side-not throughout the film as a reminder of true melancholy), are shot like some crazy silent movie, where all we hear are sounds of laughter and little sound effects, brightly lit, shot and composed like some manic tale of desperation and defeat and humiliation, stylized so highly one might think a mad German too control of the reins and made it his own. It's not something all of Bergman's fans will like, but it shows him, even in 1953, trying new things, letting himself be free with the material as he sees fit.

Then, after this, we get into the "typical" Bergmania; a sort of square-block played out between Arthur, who is meeting his ex-wife in the town he's at for the circus performance (the actress playing his wife, I forget her name, is brilliant at displaying just enough pragmatism to show her as the most sane of anyone in the film), and Arthur's current beau Anne is somewhat attracted to a sneaky actor named Frans, who plays a wicked game of arm wrestling and leading to a somewhat Albert and Anne, and how this casts a dark shadow on the rest of the proceedings- including through the circus performance, which becomes a daring act of do by Bergman where he makes things effective once squaring in on the 'duel' between Arthur and Frans. For those that love Bergman doing relationship drama, this is solid, if not exceptional, stuff on display. And the ending, truth be told, might just be one of the most engrossing, and completely bleak (if you could imagine that Bergmanites) that he ever made (who doesn't cry with the scene with the bear?)

It might sound like Bergman has made a depressing little tome on circus life, the sorrows of living with the filth and lice and reckless frivolity of life as vagabond entertainers. But it's also a lot of fun, as the low-brow material displays another side to Bergman, which is something close to weird, comic excess. Sometimes Bergman even mocks his own world; a scene with Albert asking Gunnar Bjornstrand's theater director (the latter always shown in low-angle, a smart choice) makes the theater come off satirically compared to Bergman's more serious treatments of the profession in his films. And, seriously, where else will we get a dwarf tossing in a work by this filmmaker? And meanwhile, he also has a great turn from his would-be Emil Jannings in Åke Grönberg, who is big and over-emotional and strung-out on his excesses of anger and resentment, mostly with himself (watch for that gun!) And Andersson, of course, is ravishing as she was- if not erotically as such- in Monika, filmed the same year.

Now finally available just a bit easier than previously thanks to Criterion, Sawdust and Tinsel is a fine spectacle of a director branching out stylistically (if not to the spectacular Felliniesque aspirations it might have as a pre La Strada or The Clowns), while keeping his feet tethered to his personal cinema. Not quite in my top 10 of Bergman's, but considering how many great films he made it's close.