Après la répétition

Here's an interesting little movie with a cast of three, set entirely on a stage, and that jumps backwards and forwards in time.

Henrik is a theater director spending some time alone on the stage after a rehearsal of A Dream Play by August Strindberg. He wants to collect himself before he returns to his domicile to take a nap prior to that night's rehearsal. As he sits there, one of his actresses, Anna, arrives on stage with a thin story of looking for a bracelet. What follows is a long conversation between the two that swirls around topics as it operates as some kind of seduction, direction, and exploration of the other.

About a third of the way through, something happens that is quite jarring at first. Another woman shows up on stage. This is Rakel, Anna's mother who has been dead for ten years. Anna sits on the couch watching the scene without moving or speaking, and we soon deduce that Henrik is playing out a conversation he had had with Rakel eleven years before, just prior to her death.

Rakel was a great actress in her day. She played the same role Anna is playing to great acclaim, but she had Anna and quit acting. At the time of the conversation, she's living in a hospital and the small role she's playing (the mother) is almost an act of pity on the part of Henrik. He used to love her, but she spurned his affections before. However, in this conversation, she throws herself at him, and Henrik cannot stand it. He eventually makes an empty promise to follow her to her room, but we get the impression that there's going to be no encounter.

The conversation returns to Anna as Henrik takes up the exact same position he had been in when Rakel had walked on, implying that what we had seen was just a memory that had passed in a flash. In this final third of the film, souls are bared and dark revelations of Anna's recent past come out. There are protestations of love and hate. It's a swirl of emotions that's surprisingly effective.

The movie ends when the camera suddenly cuts to a new view we haven't seen before. The movie has almost entirely shot with cameras from the audience pit, but the final shot is to the stage from the side. We see a giant brick wall and the director and young actress small against it. The conversation even changes tenor becoming more professional in nature than emotional. Something's drastically changed.

Early in the movie, Henrik talks about how he's willing to do anything to work with actors (whom he loves) in order to help them reach their potential. He looks like he's playing in their field, but he's never really involved. So, at that final shot, those words came back to me, and I asked, "Was it all an act?" Were the high emotions and swings all about directing his actor?

It's an interesting exploration of the relationship between directors and actors, something obviously intimately familiar to Bergman. Watching the movie, it became obvious how Bergman could strike up so many affairs with so many of his actresses, and, at the same time, how they could all fall apart in the end. Still, the movie is a little insular to acting specifically which limits its broad appeal. It's a good little movie, a fascinating little footnote in Bergman's career.

I may be biased though as I love and admire Ingmar Bergman. After The Rehearsal mayn't be among Bergman's very finest films, but it does deserve to be much more regarded as just a minor work. It could have done with being longer perhaps but all the things that make a Bergman film work are here. The cinematography from none other than Sven Nykvist is tight and helps to intensify After the Rehearsal's intriguing drama, while the setting looks beautiful yet realistic. Bergman as he always did directs with discipline, never once is there a sense that his heart was not in it. The scripting is intelligent and provokes a lot of thought, likewise the story is insightful in regard to art and emotion- I always admired how ambitious the themes in his films were- and almost autobiographical in structure. I have seen and heard people remark that they were indifferent to the characters, now the characters in Bergman's films are not always that likable but considering how realistically compelling they are(especially the women) you do get the sense that they weren't meant to be. Adding to this is how superbly acted After the Rehearsal is, you get that expectation seeing as we are talking about some of Sweden's finest ever actors and never here are you disappointed. All three leads, very hard to single out a standout, are really captivating and immerse themselves totally into the characters. All in all, very, very good. 9/10 Bethany Cox

Here's a bit of an odd confession. I'm starting to like this Ingmar Bergman guy. Mind you, I've only seen two of his films (the other being Cries and Whispers) but he knows how to make a film, let me tell ya! After the Rehearsal is a great movie that makes you think, while marveling how clever the whole thing is. A theater director (played by Erland Josephson) is putting together a production called "The Dream Play". One of his actresses (Lena Olin) stays behind to talk to him about past experiences, his life and hers, and other existential topics. He does the same. A little while later an older actress comes on the scene, and essentially talks the same talk, only a little older but definitely not wiser. The interesting thing about this is, is that both women don't acknowledge the other.. So what's that about? Was this the same woman, only years later? Did these women exist at all, or are we indeed watching a "dream play" already? So many fascinating theories, I love it when a movie does that to me. The movie somewhat lags during the third act, but let me tell you, Bergman KNOWS how to end movies, like in Cries and Whispers and this one, it leaves some questions unanswered for us to figure out by ourselves, and Bergman seems to rejoice yanking us away from the story to go to the credits, which is great.

I want to see more! I will see more! Yay!

"After the Rehearsal was meant to be a pleasant little episode on my road toward death. ... (It) had a lot to do with my attitude and my relationship with the theater and the actors, with this dirty, dubious, fantastic, incredible, and cruel profession. That's all." -- Ingmar Bergman

Ingmar Bergman, age 66 and a couple years after his final feature film, Fanny and Alexander, was active in theater work and had a few TV movies left in him, of which this film is one. It takes place on a single set, a stage, has just three characters, and has the feeling of a simple play itself. It starts slowly but bear with it, it's only 73 minutes and finishes well.

Erland Josephson plays a theater director (without a doubt Bergman himself), who is musing in the empty theater after a rehearsal one day. His leading lady (Lena Olin) shows up on the pretext of looking for her bracelet; she's young enough to be his daughter, but has an interest in him. The two talk about their craft but also their personal lives, and as we come to understand that her mother worked with and loved him, she's conjured up in his imagination (Ingrid Thulin). It was a treat to see all three of these actors but maybe Thulin most of all, who at 58 has her character voice the sadness of aging, echoing the theater director in the present, even though she's still quite beautiful.

While it seemed a little bit vain of Bergman to have both the older and younger woman want him, er, the director sexually, the conversations build in momentum until with Olin he imagines the course their relationship would take if they gave in to their desire. It feels autobiographical and honest, helping to make up for a work that otherwise feels rather staid and erudite. While the film doesn't live up to its full potential, it's worth watching, especially if you're a Bergman fan.

Some quotes: "At my age, sometimes when you lean forward, your head suddenly finds itself in another reality. The dead are no longer dead. The living appear like ghosts. What was obvious a minute earlier becomes peculiar and hard to grasp."

"I'll tell you the pure and simple truth: I love actors. I love them as phenomena. I love their profession. I love their courage, or their contempt for death, whatever you want to call it. I understand their desire to escape, but also their dark, ruthless honesty."

"I hate turmoil, aggression, and outbursts of emotion. I administrate, distribute, and organize. I don't participate in the drama, I give it material form. I hate all things spontaneous, rash, and imprecise. I have no room for my own confusion except as a key to secrets of a script or as a stimulus for the creativity of actors."

"Nurture your childishness. It's a good filter against consciousness."

Essentially a playwright, adapted for the cinema, first as a screenwriter and then combining this role with that of director, Ingmar Bergman left an impressive cinematographic work but even more extensive in the theater, whether writing, adapting and directing other people's plays.

In the final phase of his career, he dedicated himself mainly to the theater and the few films he made, after the biopic that was Fanny & Alexander in 1982, were mere adaptations for the cinema or television of theater plays.

This is undoubtedly the case of this "After the Rehearsal" from 1984, which has only three characters and was filmed entirely on a stage, with a single set.

In retrospect, and considering everything that has been written and debated about Bergman since his death, particularly with regard to his relationship with the many actresses he worked with, one would say that this film is clearly autobiographical and reveals the author's sadness in dealing with old age, particularly with regard to his relationship with actresses, who continue to tempt him and seduce him, but to whom he no longer has anything to offer, other than his experience and his ability to make them blossom on stage or on screen.

A feeling shared by most men over fifty, especially those accustomed to a hectic love life, like Bergman, who was married five times and had nine children from five different women, including wives and more informal relationships.

The work is insightful and intelligent, as it could not be otherwise, with Bergman as the author, and the actors are the usual Erland Josephson and Ingrid Thulin, always magnificent, joined by a younger Lena Olin, who had already played supporting roles with Bergman since 1976, but makes her debut here, with a leading role, which would open doors for her future international career.

This is Bergman at his best, but in a static, theatrical, not very cinematic format. It is worth it for the script and performances, but as a film, it feels like too little. After all, is cinema just filmed theater, as Manoel de Oliveira believed?