Fräulein Julie

Based on a well-known play by August Strindberg, Alf Sjoberg's Miss Julie depicts the struggle for survival between classes and genders in late 19th century Sweden that leads to confusion and tragedy. Because of its frank portrayal of sex between a lower-class servant and an upper-class aristocrat, the play was banned in Europe until 1906 and in Britain until 1939. It is highly regarded, however, as an important work in the literary genre that became known as Naturalism. Compellingly played by Anita Bjork who completely captures her character's erratic willfulness, Miss Julie, the 25-year old daughter of Count Carl (Anders Henrikson) is estranged from the society in which she grew up and fights against the restrictions placed on her because of her status.

Julie is a rebel who treats social conventions of the time with disdain, though she still demands to be treated as a proper woman. Having recently broken up with her fiancé (Kurt-Olof Sundström) after what would now be called an S&M incident in which she literally makes him jump through hoops like a trained dog, she is open for sexual adventure. The adventure she finds takes the form of the handsome butler Jean (Ulf Palme) whom she seduces following the drunken revelries celebrating Midsummer Eve, a pagan ritual. It is an act which, though only mildly reprehensible today, was viewed as depraved in Strindberg's time and led to the author's characterization of Julie as being "sick".

Although Jean is engaged to the cook, Christine (Marta Dorff), neither Jean nor his fiancé object because they see the act as an honor due to Julie's social position. The seduction, however, leads to her loss of respect from the servants as well as the loss of her own self respect. To escape from their untenable situation, the two lovers talk about leaving on the next train to Switzerland where Jean fantasizes about owning a hotel but the tangled web they have woven leads to unforeseen consequences.

One of the highlights of the film for me was the seamless inter-mixing of dream intervals and flashbacks from childhood. In her dream, Miss Julie is high up on a ledge or mountain. She can no longer hold on but lacks the courage to come down, though she has a longing to fall. Jean, on the other hand, wants to climb a high tree but is unable to reach the top. In flashbacks, Miss Julie recalls how her mother Berta (Lissi Alandh) saw herself as a feminist who was opposed to marriage and only wanted to be the count's mistress. When she gave birth to a daughter, she exacted her revenge by raising the girl as a boy and carrying on various misdeeds until the estate went bankrupt.

Despite its anachronistic and morbid social outlook, Sjoberg's Miss Julie is not a grim experience. The director lightens it up considerably with country scenes of folk dancing, horseback riding, and rowing, all in an idyllic setting, beautifully photographed by Goran Strindberg. Though it reflects Strindberg's distorted view of women as hysterics, Miss Julie is a superb film and a treat for the senses, both visually magnificent and wonderfully performed. It has a well-deserved reputation as being one of the greatest Swedish films of all time.

A magnificent piece of cinema and a great Strindberg production. It is the second movie by Sjöberg I see after Hetz, and it seems to me that he bestows an unparalleled sensibility to scenes and to individual characters. This comes as a blessing to Miss Julie, since the Strindberg characters are a more or less neurotic and unsympathetic lot, who needs all the empathy the viewer can muster. It is the story of a dangerous liaison between the noble Miss Julie and her manservant Jean. The story takes place after the damage is done, as during the night-long midsummer festivities the two contemplate running away. Now, the times that one of the two change their mind about running away or not cannot be counted on two hands, an it is a good example of why I normally cannot stand stageplays by people like Strindberg, and certain love/hate Bergman movies like Scenes from a Marriage and Saraband. But the immaculate rendering of feelings and passion that stream towards you again is the saving grace and lifts this movie to a much higher level than any of Bergman's gut wrenching offerings. Plus, there are some brilliant narrative goodies like the extremely elegant flashbacks, which intertwine seamless with the present, or the rhythm of calm scenes with emotional ones and the punctual reoccurance of the noisy meandering midsummer night party (acts sort of a Greek choir to the two mains). Also, fantastic camera work, composition etc. Max von Sydow has an unsympathetic bit part, many years before he played for Bergman in Seventh Seal. Already looking forward to seeing it again.

Well, at the very least this film deserves more than the two lone commentaries here so far. While hardly relishing it the way the others have, it is surprising that a movie this good has gotten so little notice at this site, and for all I know maybe elsewhere. Because it sprang from a play, and a rather famous one at that, it has a certain staginess about it, no matter how deftly it has been opened up, and I am not at all sure that the principals were the right ones, good as they are. Nevertheless, there are many fine things about them and it, and it is certainly a better movie that a good eighty or ninety percent of the ones that came out during the fifties. Perhaps the clumsiness of the S and M stuff could have been softened into a little more subtlety, there is just too much of hip hop quality to it that does not seem felt, since Strindberg usually used a sledgehammer for that sort of thing, and almost had to from the narrow horizons of stage, words words words being all that he had at hand, but Sjoberg demonstrates such a fine feel for the camera that he could have turned it into something a lot more powerful. Also the limitations of budget seems a little evident, more or less working with what was in the neighborhood.

Still this movie is not without its fascinations, and the childhood stuff has real nightmarish quality. Bergman's Naked Night had some very powerful stuff along the beach with the soldiers that was more obviously powerful, but the childhood stuff here was almost its equal. If you have not seen this Miss Julie, do yourself a favor. Its quite good.

Sjöberg is able to capture complex subjects, at several levels. He does this by moving back and forth in time, capturing reminiscences, dreams, present events, and future imaginings through seemingly seamless film techniques. Yet, the techniques never disrupt the story (which takes place over one day). On the contrary, the viewer is caught 'up in the act' and feels as if he is seeing or experiencing it as it unfolds in the characters' minds. Camera angles, cutaways, use of light and shadow, good acting, and. just about anything you can imagine about good film making is used just here to enhance ideas and feelings. I particularly loved the close ups of children's faces that constantly show the wonder and surprise. (There is a similar look in Julie's eyes as she spies on a working class couple having sex in the barn.) The mood of the film is generally sunny and bright since it takes place on a folk holiday full of fun and merrymaking, Midsummer's Eve

Themes of this film concern the characters' roles and stations in life; how their stations influences the way they see things; and the hypocrisy of the strict class structure in late 19th Century Sweden. The film also involves the roles of women and men of the Swedish upper class. This is demonstrated by showing Julie's mother—in retrospect--as an extreme iconoclast of the traditional gender roles—trying to raise Julia as a boy until her father finally interferes.

The lead roles are brilliantly played by Anita Björk (as Miss Julie) and Ulf Palme (as her servant, Jean). The two only come into social contact after Miss Julie breaks off her engagement with her fiancé and then crashes the working folk's Midsummer's Eve barn dance. Once there, she dances with the embarrassed and angry Jean. Later, as Julie and Jean relate their dreams and pasts to each other--each full of twists and turns--the gap between their social stations appears to break down. However, this apparent bridge has its own twists and turns.

Look for a young Max von Sydow in this 1951 movie as a "hand." He is still acting and going strong!! I have seen him in SO many movies over the years and he almost always makes the movie better.

I have seen other versions of this Strindberg play brought to film--most recently Liv Ullmann's 2014 version with Jessica Chastain, Colin Farrell, and Samantha Morton. However, none seems to give me a more satisfying enjoyment of the play than the old black-and-white version reviewed here.

Alj Sjoberg's Miss Julie is superior film-making to the kinds of expected adaptations of iconoclastic plays one might usually see. This Miss Julie moves, when at its best, like a real MOTION PICTURE (not to overstate it, just to put the words in bold), where Sjoberg's camera moves in fast and smooth, transfers between present and past with one simple sweep (this part seems the most influential in future post-modern films), and combining music, lush outdoor locations (it IS midsummer night after all) and acting that's fit for the screen just as much as for the stage if not more-so. Reading the play years ago, I was struck by how it would be hard to translate this past the one-room setting, where Julie and Jean confront and have the wild possibility of leaving everything to chance and becoming lovers elsewhere. This was the case with the 1999 adaptation- a respectable but unremarkable turn- but in this much older case it's a sweeping saga of romance plagued by class distinctions and just plain old childhood problems still sticking their claws into present affairs. It's surprisingly fresh in its old-fashioned sense.

At first it looks like Sjoberg could be deviating from the bulk of the tone of the Strindberg play and start to make a much livelier version of the material (how that could really be *done* I can't say), with the horde of people dancing and rollicking in frivolity like it's the last days before the new century. But it's a very wise move of contrast: while all the townspeople and others among the Count's lot go into a delirious frenzy here there and everywhere, there's Julie and Jean all abound in their neuroses and dangers of new-found existential connection. While Sjoberg doesn't have much trouble in translating the tone of the basic material- of the difference between rich and poor struck away by the desire to just see these two talk like human beings, warts and all, without the confines of their set places and alignment with those they should be with (Jean with Ingrid, Julie with Lord knows whom)- the trick Sjoberg had was with his style and casting.

On both fronts, as luck would have it, he has it made. Anita Bjork is an excellent Julie, and the actor playing Jean is also fantastic at displaying an apt trait of showing off as at times being sincere and not sincere, confusing and riling up poor dear Julie, taught from her youth to hate and be wary of men by her hateful mother. Even little parts that might have been left shorter run in the original play are given further depth, Luke Julie's father, who's seen as something of a conflicted character as a man in power who ends up being much more caring (up to a specific point of incident) than her mother. As for the style, as aforementioned, it's often breathtaking; sequences like the young Jean running away from the lot of adults after him for stealing is shot, edited and composed like something not quite of the early 1950s. If it's a little dated here and there it should be expected, but Miss Julie is a delightful exercise in the unimaginable: an adaptation that lives up to the controversial and exciting spirit of the source.