Aus dem Leben der Marionetten

Bergman was on top form writing this piece - there's lots to think about. What motivates a respectable man, whose mental state indicates only a small risk of self-harm, to undertake such a violent and frenzied crime? Do the ulterior motives and actions of those around him (wife, shrink, wife's business partner...)deliberately or unwittingly trigger the crime - or indeed are those sub-plots entirely incidental to the central event? These questions are not answered - they are raised and illuminated.

This is not Bergman's greatest piece of cinema - the mixture of documentary, drama and flashback can be a little disorienting - but the argument of the film drives on relentlessly and it is compulsive watching. Well worth seeing.

A short comment - enjoyed this and it is up to the usual Bergmann standards. As with many of his other films sticking with some of the difficult opening scenes rewards the viewer later with a thought provoking account of one man's depression leading to violence and murder. In many ways Bergman is the jacques costeau of the film world, exploring the deep seas and bringing up to the surface what lies below!

Perhaps I'm biased as I am a great admirer of Ingmar Bergman, but I found myself both fascinated and impressed by From the Life of the Marionettes. Excepting All These Women, the only film(of those I've seen, which is a little over two-thirds) that I didn't care for, Bergman's films have ranged to solid to outstanding. From the Life of the Marionettes is not one his very finest, but it is one of the films of his that is close to outstanding. Apart from the I agree underdeveloped homosexual subplot, there is very little of the film to criticise. The production values could be seen as stark, but still sublime and even haunting and shot beautifully. Bergman directs superbly with his usual control and discipline, while the speeches are thoughtful and the structure consisting of drama, documentary, character study, flashback and dream sequences is constantly attention-grabbing and I didn't find myself confused by it. The characters could be seen as cold, but purposefully and there is the trademark compelling realism of Bergman's films here. There aren't Sweden's finest ever actors on board, but the acting is still very good. All in all, very undervalued Bergman with lots of interest value. 9/10 Bethany Cox

A complex dissection of a murder and a murderer, told by jumping back and forth in time, before and after the event, A deeply disturbing portrait of a man and a society so cut off from feeling that violence seems almost inevitable.

While more divided in public reaction then some of Bergman's most beloved works, I think this edgy, bold, uncomfortable film ranks close to some of his best work. While there are moments of pretension, there's also a lot of human and psychological complexity (and wonderful acting) in this bleak exploration of how near murder and madness lie to any of us.

Despite having seen the best part of Höstsonaten, Bergman's film immediately prior to Aus dem Leben der Marionetten, I never completed the viewing experience. Thus, this ranks itself as my very first Bergman, something I'd been rather looking forward to for quite some time.

Beginning with a surprising scene in which a well dressed man strangles a prostitute, Aus dem Leben der Marionetten follows this event up by examining the events before and after it, hopping through a time frame of two to three months. Through the conversations which precede and follow this catastrophe—as the film's intertitles elect to label it—we learn gradually more about the reasons and the people behind it.

I have a very deep proclivity toward non-English films playing late at night on television, particularly those in German—simply because I'm a student thereof. In the fleeting moments between realising such a film directed by the acclaimed Bergman—of whom I regrettably knew rather little—was about to grace my screen and its beginning, I was somewhat disenchanted to learn that this is not considered amongst his greatest. Nevertheless, I happily sat back to watch the potential magic unfold. The opening scene of murder is a strange one, the severity of the violence neither understood by its recipient or indeed by us; verily, it is suggested that not even the assailant understands what he is doing. Thereafter, an intriguing thing happens: the colour drains from the film, turning the previous rich reds to a dull monochrome. This effect is fascinating, inviting us to ruminate upon its purpose more than beginning in black and white would have done. The film follows this up with a non-chronological narrative progression, ducking from past to future—considering the murder the present, of course. Most of these scenes take the form of intimate conversations or extended monological musings, discussing in a vague manner many aspects of life. These are beautifully shot, a scene in which a homosexual man addressing the killer's wife slowly comes to regard himself in the mirror completely entrancing and surprisingly tender. Noteworthy too are the dream sequences—most rife in the film's middle section—dazzlingly bright and beautifully narrated. These exhibit a visual flair as inherently important to an understanding of the film as any dialogue. The film is both visually and thematically interesting, examining through both the factors that drive ordinary people to brutal actions. Somewhat of a recondite piece, it is the kind of film that lingers with you, returning to your mind a number of times after viewing. The performances, particularly that of Martin Benrath—in the role of the aforementioned gentleman—are nothing short of arresting.

Containing a cornucopia of pleasing visuals and highly effective metaphors—the importance of mirrors springs to mind—Aus dem Leben der Marionetten is a voluptuous treatise on life and love; repression and expression; individuality and relationships. Slow moving, but completely involving, if this is a lesser Bergman, I can't wait to see how he could improve upon it.