Mademoiselle Julie

Some films are so utterly faultless and brilliantly made that one is almost at a loss to find enough superlatives with which to praise them, and yet, at the same time keep it credible. MISS JULIE is one such film, and it seems entirely fitting that one of the greatest Swedish films ever made should be based on the work of one of Sweden's greatest writers. Every single aspect of this film is perfect; the black and white photography, the wonderful musical score by Dag Wiren, the acting from all the cast, but in particular from Anita Bjork who sets a standard in playing Miss Julie that could hardly be bettered. The play which provides the screenplay is of course devastating with the inexorable interplay between class and rank, and human desire and lust overlapping and intertwining, and too, the now almost forgotten concept of "duty" and "honour". If you like movies that make you think, eat away at your heart and memory long after you have seen them, then I cannot recommend MISS JULIE more highly. In the fifty years since it was made, its brilliance has not diminished one jot. A masterpiece and a film to truly treasure.

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.

Sjoberg takes a Strindberg play and converts in into a superb movie. The dramatic conflicts faced by the characters is intense and plausible and almost painful to watch.

The theme is the repression of women and sexual expression, and the rigid class system, in Sweden around the turn of the century, many years before the liberating effects of the victory by the Social Democrats in the election of 1932. It is exemplified by the disastrous attempt by Julie, the daughter of a count, to find love with a man who is well-educated, strongly respectful of his place, very handsome and personable, but of the servant class. The cast gives fine performances all up and down the line. Sjoberg directs with the hand of a master, some scenes expressionistic, some impressionistic, close-ups as needed, long shots perfectly fitted in.

If you are not familiar with Sjoberg, note that a big part of Bergman's startup came from his collaboration with the older Sjoberg on the movie Torment, in which Sjoberg directed and Bergman wrote the script and served as assistant director.

The young miss Julie (Anita Bjork) lives in a mansion with her father. She has recently broken her engagement but is attracted to one of the servants, Jean. They spend the midsummer night together, telling each other their memories and of their dreams. Realizing that an affair between a man of the people and an aristocrat is impossible, they plan to escape to Switzerland.

This film had an interesting influence abroad. Alfred Hitchcock said he had hired Björk as the female lead for "I Confess" in 1952, after seeing her in "Miss Julie". However, when Björk arrived in Hollywood with her lover Stig Dagerman and their baby, Jack Warner, head of Warner Brothers, insisted that Hitchcock find another actress.

What makes this is a great film, beyond the absolutely gorgeous cinematography, is the intrinsic idea of class division. It had been done before and has been done since, but it is a theme that seems to be eternal and always a joy to watch when properly executed.

It's double-bill time, two movie adaptations of MISS JULIE, August Strinberg's play written in 1888, with 63 years apart. The 1951 version is made by Strinberg's fellow Swedish countryman, Alf Sjöberg. Shot in dashing Black and White, Sjöberg's film stars Anita Björk and Ulf Palme as the central pair, Miss Julie, the daughter of a Count (Henrikson) and her servant Jean, during the mid-summer night, they test the limit of seduction, passion and dignity between two incompatible classes, it shared the prestigious Grand Prize in Cannes with Vittorio De Sica's MIRACLE IN MILAN (1951).

Empowered by an impactful score from Dag Wirén, the film conjures up the pair's gender-and- class tug-of-war with a phantasmagoria of sequences narrating their dreams and past. The desire for falling versus an ambition of climbing from different starting tier concretes Julie and Jean as perfect specimens to explore their moral and emotional clashes. Outstanding cinematography creates amazing shots where flashback merges together with the present, imagination coexists with the reality. There is no win-win situation in the battle of sex, Miss Julie's paradoxical attempt to patronise her servant and at the same time to be sexually overtaken by him is a self-digging grave for her own undoing, and Jean's struggle between his sexual impulse and deep-rooted inferiority complex is the last nail on her coffin.

Anita Björk embodies a graceful mien of nobility emitting a whiff of recalcitrance that makes her portrayal of Miss Julie a distant, spoiled figure never truly reveals her true emotions, whereas Ulf Palme delicately betrays his insecurity and immaturity out of his pseudo-confidence and prince-charmant appearance. Among the supporting cast, Dorff's Kristin, the cook, takes a less prominent function than Morton in the 2014 film, and we also see a very young Max von Sydow giggling in his plain nature. Overall, this vintage oldie is a pleasant discovery, especially compared to the more lyrical but problematic latest version directed by the acting legend Liv Ullmann.

With a running time around 130 minutes (contrast with 89 minutes of Sjöberg's picture), but maximally axing the bit parts with three characters only (save the two-minutes opening sequence showing a young Julie rollicking in the forest), Miss Julie (Chastain), the butler John (Farrell) and Kathleen the cook (Morton), this austere version is set in Ireland, and is much more loyal to the text's original form with its take-no-prisoners' method to let the acting-trio wrangling in the turmoil with lengthy monologues and dialogues. It is a chancy choice, Ullmann invests a full trust in her cast, and is willing to take the risk of prolonging the takes to let the emotional repercussions permeate, even music is barely used as an immediate mood-mediator, only at times playing in the background with unobtrusive volume.

"The night is long and it is so tiring", the film becomes tedious as the same plot and twist blathering on and on; and "class is class", the invisible barrier strips them down to their inveterate bias and beliefs. However, the trio's whole-hearted devotion is the saving grace of Ullmann's labour-of-love. Morton, her Kathleen becomes a morally righteous yardstick to the scandalous affair, John is her beau, and Miss Julie is her mistress, her inward feeling is given a more detailed vent to show off, and Morton is always excellent to watch, modest in looks, but tremendously engaging. Farrell, portrays a quite different character from Palme, his John is more approachable to read, more pliable to manipulate, also more reprehensible to condemn for his cowardice, the explicit canary-murdering scene makes him more like a perpetrator than a foolish social-climber in the end.

Chastain stands at odds with Farrell and Morton's Irish accent, but her mercurial personae are wondrous to stare, this could be a tour-de-force if it was on stage, yet as a film, her labour (the same can to said to Farrell and Morton) cannot redeem the sluggish rhythm and a length overstays its welcome, in a sense, only true savant of stage play can luxuriate in it, for most people, the 1951 version is more superior.