La vedova del pastore

Prästänkan / The Parson's Widow (1920) : Brief Review -

A pathbreaking romance with a lesson of goodwill easily makes into my top 5 films of Carl Theodor Dreyer. Having seen all the acclaimed works of Carl Theodor Dreyer, be it Danish or Swedish, I can easily say that The Parson's Widow makes it into my top 5 films (if not top 3) by the legendary director. All my top favourite Dreyer films belong to the talkie era: "Vampyr" (1932), "Vredens Dag" (1943) and "Order" (1955), except for his best work ever, "The Passion of Joan of Arc" (1928), which was a silent movie. Prästänkan does not beat Joan's passionate story and Ordet, but finds equal praise as the other two films. The Parson's Widow is a weird romance. I think weird is an insulting word, so let me call it pathbreaking. Hal Ashby made "Harold and Maude" (1971) after 51 years, where a teenager falls in love with an old lady, and the latter dies in the end. Now imagine seeing the same stuff in a Swedish film made in 1920. A young graduate marries a lady of his grandmother's age to win the love of his girlfriend. How weirdly pathbreaking and fascinating idea it was! And the climax has a great deal of goodwill to leave you with a positive message and tender sentiments. The film is based on a story called Prestekonen by Kristofer Janson, and I don't know nothing about that. I just followed Dreyer's film adaptation and loved it. Einar Röd as Söfren is good, but seems over-expressive on many occasions. One such example was that feeling dizzy scene. But I liked his final quote, "We owe her a great debt, Mari. She taught you to keep a good home and she taught me to be an honourable man." Any real man would love that. Hildur Carlberg as Dame Margarete is a show stealer here, while Greta Almroth poses cutely as an innocent girlfriend. Writer and director Carl Theodor Dreyer has done a fabulous job of making one of the most daring and beautiful love stories that stands the test of time, even today. His most significant achievement during his early career.

RATING - 7.5/10*

By - #samthebestest.

Sofren and Mari, are two youngsters who wander into a typically idyllic Norwegian village. The village is searching desperately for a new parson and Sofren has studied hard for the ministry. He has been encouraged in this by his sweetheart Mari because her father will not allow her to marry Sofren until he becomes a real parson. There are two other applicants for the job of village parson but after a hard competition and delivering a splendid sermon, Sofren wins that Gott job. But there is a catch: according to parish law, Sofren must wed the late parson's widow, Dame Margarete; that's a terrible dilemma for Sofren since he cannot get Mari if he doesn't get the post and he will not get that unless he weds the old woman…

"Prästänkan" ( The Parson's Widow , 1920 ) is an excellent and wonderful work in spite of the fact that it is only Herr Carl Theodor Dreyer's second film as a director but perhaps this is not a strange thing at all if we have in mind Herr Dreyer's great debut, "Praesidenten" (1919), reviewed by this German count in this modern diary sometime and liked by this Herr Von very much according to his aristocratic standards, natürlich!.

Everything is remarkable in "Prästänkan" ( astonishing art direction, again not unusual in Herr Dreyer's early works, in which every minor detail is matched carefully with wonderful outdoor scenery and technical effects that enrich superbly the film story ), but the most remarkable aspect of the film for this German count is Herr Dreyer's skill in filming a story with a religious subject but resisting the temptation to be sacrilegious or irreverent, the most obvious and easy ways for many directors to depict such a delicate subject. On the contrary, Herr Dreyer is very respectful of the religious theme of the story but includes also an intelligent sense of humour, Nordic humour natürlich!. The funny scenes fit perfectly in a story in which impatient and inexpert youngsters vie with a wise and crafty woman, and where all will learn their own lessons until finally common sense prevails.

And that's a great Herr Dreyer film goal; to make a "local" story with its Northern customs into a universal film, overriding country barriers. That only happens when the author is a very skillful man, natürlich!.

By the way, even though this German count speaks elegant languages such as Latin and ancient Greek, the first time that "Prästänkan" was shown in the Schloss theatre, the nitrate had Swedish intertitles only, a dead language for this Herr Von. For that reason it is necessary to praise Herr David Shepard ( a singular longhaired youngster who cares about silent films ) for his superb English edition of this film so that illiterate youngsters around the world may also enjoy it.

And now, if you'll allow me, I must temporarily take my leave because this German Count must attend a dinner in which will be served parson's noses.

I haven't seen Carl Theodor Dreyer's directorial début, "The President" (Præsidenten), yet. I've seen "Leaves from Satan's Book" (Blade af Satans Bog), however, and it was totally unimpressive. Dreyer took from Griffith's "Intolerance", but didn't even manage a simulacrum of the American director's craft. "The Parson's Widow" is a much better beginning for Denmark's great filmmaker. It is the work of a director coming into his own, even though it's much different in some ways from the rest of his oeuvre.

As with "Leaves from Satan's Book" and his later films, there's the preoccupation with history and religion. But, as others agree, this is Dreyer light. The story of a man who must marry a hag to become a village's parson, and his plots to marry his young fiancée and keep the job despite it is amusing. I thought the devil costume bit was particularly humorous. Dreyer's direction is what makes this worthwhile, though. The quick pace, not lingering on shots and improved camera positioning compared to "Leaves from Satan's Book" make this film more accessible and entertaining.

Dreyer again uses masking and fades extensively, but this time it adds to the style. He gets the most out of the actors. (It shouldn't be underestimated how quicker shot succession can improve, or detract from, otherwise unremarkable acting.) Additionally, the introduction to the past through the waterfall was an especially nice touch. The confining location sets, and more importantly, how Dreyer and cinematographer George Schnéevoigt film them also add greatly to this tightly told film. The small church full of dividers is just a great find, and they use the spaces of the home of the parson's wife very well, with camera placement and continuity editing.

Over the mountain wander Sofren and Mari. Sofren is a student of theology come to apply for the vacant position of parson in this rural Norwegian village. Mari is his fiancée, but not yet his wife because her father won't allow it until he becomes a real parson. Luckily for him, his two competitors from Copenhagen aren't particularly up to the task. The first looks like a cross between John Lennon and Bill Gates and bores his audience to sleep, so much so that even the man tasked with keeping everyone awake drops off; and the other is a bloated fool who keeps them amused only because Sofren has stuck a feather to the back of his head.

So Sofren it is: the five bearded elders tasked with the decision don't have much of a task after all, given that he's young and dynamic and can think on his feet. However, there's a catch, for there must always be a catch. The local custom is that the parson's widow comes with the job. This wasn't for any religious reason, merely a practical one because someone has to take care of her, after all, but this particular parson's widow, Dame Margarete Pedersdotter, has outlasted the previous three parsons only to be handed over each time to their successors 'like a piece of furniture'.

And just as Sofren had no problem outsmarting his rivals, who run for the hills the moment they see Dame Margarete anyway, the parson's widow outsmarts Sofren. Eager to retain her position running the parson's house, she persuades him subtly to propose. There's mention that she may be a witch but she really accomplishes it with a herring and a bottle of schnapps. So Sofren becomes the parson and Dame Margarete becomes the parson's wife once more, mistress of her whole domain. And with this setup, with Mari introduced into the mix as Sofren's sister rather than his fiancée, naturally hilarity ensues.

Well hilarity is a strong term, given that this is a Swedish silent film from 1920 and a Carl Theodor Dreyer movie to boot, but it's a lot closer to hilarity than I'd have ever imagined for one of his films. I've seen a lot of them, having been utterly stunned by The Passion of Joan of Arc and fascinated into finding as much of the rest of his work that I could. This was the second film Dreyer directed, but the eighth of his fourteen feature length movies for me. It's the first to invoke laughter, which comes about mostly in a subtle way but with some stooping to pantomime, such as the scenes where Sofren prances around in an elaborate Satan suit after he becomes convinced that his wife is a witch.

It's constructed well, with strong performances and memorable characters, varied shots and varied expectations. It looks good, whether inside or out, and there's a lot of use of the common silent film masking technique that turns the screen into a small circle to highlight what we should be looking at. As would fit a story built around a folk custom, there's a great deal here that speaks to customs and folklore, from dances to rituals to beliefs. Quite which Scandinavian culture or cultures this applies to, I'm not sure, given that it's a Swedish film set in Norway but based on a Danish story, but they're fascinating.

And backing up Dreyer's direction, Dreyer being a man who controlled his films as surely as Dame Margarete controls her household, are a number of memorable performances. Einar Röd plays Sofren as something of an imp. We rarely see him in church, this being one of the least religious religious films I've ever seen. Instead we watch him try all sorts of hare brained schemes to try to see his Mari, always coming up short but learning something in the process, there very much being a lesson here in and amidst the comedy. Greta Almroth is a wholesome but frustrated Mari, reminding a little of Elsa Lanchester.

Best of all is Hildur Carlberg as Dame Margarete, dominant throughout but always human. Born as far back as 1843, she was 76 when she made this film, her third and last. With a memorable face with many lines showing her age and a memorable gait that would have made her a prime candidate for a major role in a zombie movie, it's sad that she wouldn't make any more. She died two months before this film was released. I wonder if they nailed a horseshoe above her door and sprinkled linseed oil on the ground to ensure she didn't come back to haunt her house.

In order to take on the previous incumbent's living, a young clergyman has also to take on the deceased man's widow, which is a trifle inconvenient as said parson is in love with another. The parson in question is in also competition with two other 'academic' types who are treated with scorn and ridicule due to the quality (or lack of it) of their sermons. What starts off rather cruelly, with the young lovers waiting for the old woman to die, develops into a moving human story, although it does flag a little in spots. The latter scenes of the widow saying 'good-bye' to her surroundings and people when she feels she is to die soon is particularly moving and powerful. Ironically, life imitated art as Hildur Carlberg, who played the widow, died shortly afterwards, though several of her listed films are fortunately still around. Mathilde Nielsen, who played the tyrannical nurse in Dreyer's Master of the House, plays one of the widow's servants.

Certainly recommended to those fearing an hour or so with Mr Dreyer to be an austere and dreary prospect, this film also has an admirable period feel to it, though some of this is perhaps due to the use of unfamiliar (to me, at least) faces.