An die Freude

Ingmar Bergman's "To Joy" (Till glädje) is one of his earlier films. It opens and ends with a community orchestra and choir playing Beethoven's Ninth Symphony.

The story features the courtship and marriage of Stig Eriksson and Marta Olsson, who met while playing violin in the orchestra. Victor Sjöström, who stars in "Wild Strawberries" is the conductor of the orchestra. At the beginning of the film we learn that Marta has been killed in an accident at their summer cottage. It's followed by a long flashback about their tempestuous relationship.

Stig believes himself a skilled player and dreams of a solo career, but his hopes are dashed in one disastrous performance. Stig and Marta have a troubled relationship, but the last several years have seen reconciliation and joy.

It is said the film is semi-autobiographical about Bergman's first two marriages. I found the film an engaging reflection of a couple working through their first six or seven years of marriage.

When you set up shop and form a marriage, you need to acquire a rather large carriage, to shackle yourselves to, and fill it with you, just make sure you've got plenty of storage. Now your carriage will have many seals, but occasionally these become unpeeled, you'll both try and unpick, then resolutely re-stick, as you turn it into a big wheal. Far too often the damage is done, and the carriage just runs out of fun, so you fill it with distraction, which leads to inaction, the start of the end has begun. This all happened to Stig and to Marta, but they managed to find a big plaster, until one fateful day, something got in the way, with a carriage derailing disaster.

There are some things you can't foresee but they usually result because of a lack of vision.

Although the plot of this film is rather simple - a man reflecting on the good and bad times that he had with his wife - it is handled well by Bergman, who gives the film an interesting audio and visual side, including creative editing changes, and at least one meaningful aerial shot early on the piece. The protagonist and his wife are concert musicians, and in the first few scenes, and in some later on, non-original music is used superbly to coincide with the action on screen. There are however a few concerts scenes that may have been better had they been trimmed in length, as seeing a whole concert performed is not necessary in the story. Although the film is mostly a series of memories, there is also one is ill-judged point in which a character other than the protagonist starts to narrate events, which is not possible in the way the story is told. Also, there is room to complain about the film being a bit too literal, but there is hardly reason to concentrate on the drawbacks of the film when it is such a delight to watch, and so well done where it is well done. Victor Sjöström, as the maestro, delivers fine support, and the film is an excellent example of great visual storytelling. In the years after this, Bergman would go on to direct more complex films that would require more skill on his behalf, but this early entry still stands up fairly well, even if not up to the standard of some of his latter work. The final sequence is especially well done, both in how it uses music, and in the contrast that it has to the first scene in which the man's son is seen.

Somewhat one-sided and sometimes melodramatic portrait of a doomed marriage, this still has it share of lovely moments, not least of which is the on-screen performance of great classical music by the orchestra that both protagonists are part of.

While their romance starts sweetly, Stig rapidly turns into a hateful character, his failure to reach stardom as a solo musician translated into taking out his frustrations on his sweet wife, and coldly having an affair to counter his feelings of impotence and self-loathing.

While an interesting portrait of an artist's own ambition standing in the way of being better at their craft (it's Stig's need for approval and outward success that doesn't allow him to really thrown himself, body and soul into his music – or his marriage), Marta his wife just comes off as too perfect a martyr.

There are moments where the acting is very strong, and some of the photography is lovely, but the film just feels a bit like the character of Stig – too self-conscious and too sure about who is right and wrong. Still, there are lots of hints of Bergman's genius to come, and it's well worth seeing for those.

Stig and Marta are two young musicians playing together in a Swedish orchestra. They meet, they fall in love and they get married. If this synopsis leaves you expecting a romantic film, you'll be disappointed to find out a rough, realistic, yet very sentimental piece of art.

In this film, Bergman uses a quite interesting storytelling method that works really effectively. Although the way their marriage ends is revealed to us in the opening sequence making the rest of the film a flashback (a technique with which Bergman is already familiar with), when the movie reaches its final scene, one can't help but be extremely moved by the way things end up.

Once again, the performances are great and it is clear that these actors open up their own private world for all of us to see, and they can do that simply because they feel comfortable with a director like Bergman. They know they are in safe hands. Victor Sjostrom definitely steals the show (and Bergman will work with him again in Wild Strawberries), but it is the face of Maj-Britt Nilsson (Marta) that will remain in your mind for a long time.

Already in these early films of his, the Swedish master shows his love for close-ups. He likes to diminish the distance between the audience and the actors, especially their faces, sharing the belief that not only their eyes, but also the texture of their skin can reveal to us a whole lot of things about the characters. After all, close ups are one of the great advantages of cinema that have ultimately become one of the most characteristic building blocks of this art form, and Bergman working simultaneously in the theatre, is very much aware of that. Although the extreme close ups are easier to notice and admire, Bergman has also a great arsenal of shots and camera movements that so easily uses in this film. The shots of the orchestra performing either from high above or through the musicians, shows a camera that can move constantly but also in a discreet and, one could say, abstract way. He also proves to be very capable with mise-en-scene, as deep-focus long takes are used in several scenes.

The use of music is also notable, as you will definitely see for yourselves in the remarkable montage sequence in the ending. Classical music is of course common in the director's filmography, but it follows certain stages that are worth mentioning. In his first period, in which "To Joy" is definitely included, Bergman uses pieces performed by large orchestras, grandiose in a way. And it's certainly no coincidence that in these films, a great number of characters are used for narrative purposes (surely Stig are Marta are in the foreground, but there's also the conductor, Sonderby, the mistress and her old husband, Marcel and a few others). But from early 60's on, begins a period in which Bergman uses music of a smaller scale (especially string quartets) and in these films very few characters are introduced to us and, very often, in an isolated place (e.g. Through a Glass Darkly, Silence, Persona).

If you watch carefully this film, you will see many signs of what Ingmar Bergman is going to evolve to. His dramatic approach in human relationships and his effort to capture those moments between two heartbeats, between two lovers. But also his realistic point of view, especially when it comes to marriage (as Scenes From a Marriage a good 20 years after will confirm). A very good film.