Sinfonia d'autunno

Generally, either "Seventh Seal" or "Persona" is the film that a critic will name if s/he is stuck with the task of naming Ingmar Bergman's greatest achievement. A couple others might be named, but rarely do you hear a critic espouse the brilliance of "Autumn Sonata."

The first thing I noticed about this film is that it is, like "Cries and Whispers," nothing less than a painting. The textures, the warm reds and the close-ups of the faces of wounded souls, all combine to make the viewer realize that s/he is witnessing High Art.

Then there's the shot of Liv Ullman's wounded profile as she stares at her mother, Ingrid Bergman, while mother shows Liv how the Chopin piece should be played. It is an eloquent scene. Truly heartbreaking and unforgettable. One can feel Liv's pain begin to show itself: it is the painful shame of inadequacy and mediocrity made all the more shameful because it is mother inspiring these feelings in her.

Later, it's Liv's cruelty toward her mother in that unforgettable late night diatribe.

And finally, it's Liv's crippled sister and Ingrid's disgust at the thought that not only did mediocrity crawl out of her womb, but so did deformity and suffering.

The film is bleak (obviously) and the resolution is only slightly hopeful. It is however a masterpiece -- a film that reveals that what the world needs now is not Love, as the song proclaims, but Compassion and Grace. Liv Ullman is the only actress who can say these things without opening her mouth. Ingmar Bergman is the only filmmaker who can make a seemingly banal story into an eloquent prayer for redemption and reconciliation.

(CAUTION: Dont take mom to see it on mother's day ... unless...)

The acting of Ingrid Bergman and Liv Ulmann is absolutely spell binding and while Katherine Hepburn may have been accused of portraying the emotions for A to B there is no doubt that these two actors can portray the emotions from A to Z and beyond. When I watch a film in a foreign language I find myself studying facial expressions and body language very closely, not surprisingly as, with the lack of understanding I am more dependant of visual cues. However such scrutiny often uncovers failings and weaknesses – not here.

The cinematography id also first class, the colours, tones and lighting are all superb and enhance, never detract.

This is only the second of Bergman's films I have seen (the first being Fanny and Alexander) and what I have noticed is that while many films give to the viewer and I feel as if the emotions are a natural response, I felt with the Bergman films, particularly this one, as if the films have taken something out of me, as if the emotions have been extracted against my will. This may sound over the top and rather florid but is a genuine statement. I also have to say that what the two films have in common is that they were both spellbinding and like a good book that just can't be put down, the films gripped me and wouldn't let go even for a minute.

Before she was an international star of incomparable charisma and beauty, and even before Ingmar Bergman became a legendary director of films bleak and intense, Ingrid Bergman played in the Swedish cinema. So it is entirely apropos that someday Bergman might direct Bergman.

Ingrid plays Charlotte, a concert pianist who has, upon the recent death of her longtime lover, Leonardo, returned to her native land to visit her daughter Eva (Liv Ullmann), whom she hasn't seen for seven years, and her husband Viktor (Halvar Bjork), who is a minister. Ullmann is frumpish in specs with her hair up and her dress loose and ill-fitting. She is Ingrid's nerdish daughter who has been throughout her life entirely overshadowed by her glamorous mother. Eva has an unpleasant surprise for mom. Her other daughter, Helena (Lena Nyman), who suffers from a crippling disease, perhaps muscular dystrophy, is on hand. Eva didn't tell her mother that Helena was now living with them. She says she didn't tell her because she knew that, if she had, Charlotte would not have come. And so we can guess that there are issues that will come out, issues between mother and daughter that have been festering for decades.

I got goose bumps seeing Ingrid Bergman as an elderly woman, and seeing the smooth, graceful style again, the elegant presence, a hint of the old gestures, the sly glances, the tentative smiles... It was really wonderful and at the same time disconcerting to examine her face (Sven Nykvist's intense close ups expose every inch of skin) and sigh and remember and understand the effect of the passing years. Ingrid is elegant but she has been robbed of her beauty so now we are able to see her character; unfortunately Ingmar's script allows little of the real Ingrid Bergman to appear. Hers is not a pleasant part to play. She is an entirely selfish and self-centered woman who has put her career before her family, but is unaware of what she has done. Eva seizes this opportunity to punish her mother by dredging up the neglect of her childhood to throw it in her mother's face (which perhaps explains why Charlotte hasn't been home in seven years). The sheer cold hatred that Eva expresses is enough to make the devil himself cringe. After a bit one begins to feel sorry for Charlotte, despite her failures as a mother, to have a daughter so unforgiving and so hateful.

Liv Ullmann is rather startling in this portrayal, with her penetrating eyes, her hard, Neandethalish forehead, the severe specs, and the uncompromising tone of her voice. Charlotte is ashamed and begs for forgiveness and tries to defend herself, but it is no use. Eva is too strong for her. This is one of the more intense scenes in cinema, and one not easily watched. Meanwhile in the upstairs bedroom and then in the hallway and down the staircase, Helena has heard them arguing and is pulling her crippled body over the floor, desperately trying to reach them. She cries out, "Mama! Mama!" but is not heard.

Viewers might want to pick sides between mother and daughter to say which is the more at fault. Indeed, it is hard to say who Bergman himself found more at fault. Perhaps there is no fault, only human weakness and stupidity. Such scenes are usually followed by a greater understanding, forgiveness and a willingness to start anew. However, although Charlotte wants that, it is not clear in Bergman's script that anything good will come of what has happened. Charlotte leaves, the minister returns to looking at his wife, (having overheard the argument, about which he has said nothing) and Eva writes a letter to her mother. It is not clear whether she wants to patch things up or to gain another opportunity to pick her mother to pieces. The viewer is left to decide.

Perhaps the best scene in the film is the one that follows dinner the night of Charlotte's arrival in which Eva plays the piano, a Chopin prelude. She has worked hard on it and hopes to please her mother. Alas, her play is not so good. After all, the mother is a genius, the daughter only the daughter of a genius. Charlotte sits down next to Eva and takes the keys to gently demonstrate how the piece should be played. We see and feel at once the inadequacy of the daughter in her mother's eyes. It is a great scene filmed with a tight focus on the faces of the two women. When Eva turns to stare at her mother, who is, of course, playing brilliantly with great finesse and touch, the expression on Eva's face, held for many long seconds, is unforgettable.

Not to second guess the master, but I would have liked to have seen the entire movie played in this, a more subtle key than that which followed. However when it comes to dysfunction and disease, Ingmar Bergman is unrestrained.

Ingrid Bergman was nominated for an academy award for best actress in this, her last feature film (she had already been diagnosed with cancer), but lost out to Jane Fonda in Coming Home (1978).

(Note: Over 500 of my movie reviews are now available in my book "Cut to the Chaise Lounge or I Can't Believe I Swallowed the Remote!" Get it at Amazon!)

Ingrid Bergman as Charlotte, is a concert pianist visiting her daughter Eva, played by Liv Ullmann. They have not seen each other for 7 years. Charlotte's other daughter, Helena, is also living with Eva. Helena has a crippling disease, and at one time was living in some type of institution.

At first, everything is fine, as mother and daughter do their best to make each other as comfortable as possible. When left alone, they wonder about each other's expectations, but continue on.

Charlotte is a very talented, but completely self-absorbed woman. Eva is a frump. A sweet frump, but a frump nonetheless. At first, there are a few catty remarks exchanged, but the turning point is when Eva offers to play the piano for her mother. She works as hard as she can, but the music sounds contrived and unmusical. When she asks her mother to play the piece for her, Charlotte does the one thing that signaled to me that "the war was on". She laid down the music rack on the piano. (When pianists have a piece memorized, they do that to show the audience that they have no need for the printed music.) Charlotte, of course, plays beautifully (she could play no other way). However, the damage is done. Mother is successful, and daughter is a failure. Although the scene is dramatically pivotal, it did produce one of the few really funny lines in the movie. After Charlotte finishes playing, she says, "Well, I HAVE been playing these Chopin pieces for 37 years."

Charlotte's self-absorption is pretty amazing when you realize that her ill daughter was in an institution, then moved to Eva's house, and she had no idea that it happened. There are some other clues in the early part of the story that indicate she probably wished that her daughter Helena would have died long ago. Charlotte can be totally charming to her public, her agents, her fans... but has very little to offer her own children.

Eva is so desperate for love and affection from her mother that she seemingly misses the fact that her husband loves her very much. When Charlotte is awakened by a nightmare, she and Eva begin a late-night talk. And that is when the real nightmare begins.

At times this film is painful to watch, and at times is emotionally draining. Sven Nykvyst's cinematography is stunning. I thought this especially so in the flashback sequences, and in the scene close to the end of the film when Eva is in the cemetery.

Although not as perfect as The Seventh Seal, or Wild Strawberries, Autumn Sonata still has much to say, whether we feel comfortable listening to it or not.

This is a beautiful and devastating film that I admire, love and am connected to. This was the first Liv Ullmann's film I've seen and the first Bergman's color film. It is considered to be Ingrid Bergman's film and she is phenomenal as a talented and world renowned pianist who had never been a good mother to her two daughters. It is much easier to make the whole world happy then your own child. One can be a brilliant artist and read the minds of the other great minds easily but the hearts and souls of one's own blood and flesh would be the unsolved mystery. I think the film was very personal for both Bergmans in their only work together. It is amazing how bravely they explore the themes and events that could've (and did) occurred in their own lives. For me, though, the film belongs to Liv Ullmann, the greatest actress I've seen, the best Ingmar Bergman's actress.

I was riveted to Liv's face; I'd never seen the face like hers. She played a plain daughter to the brilliant mother and she was supposed to look and feel awkward and gawky comparing to her mother but her face was like a magnet, her eyes - like two deep blue lakes. If ever the saying, the eyes are the soul's mirror, is true, it is about Liv's eyes. There are kindness, tenderness, strength, and something even more attractive than beauty itself in them - the goodness of her soul. Dostoyevsky said once that human face has to mean something - I always think of his words when I see performance of my favorite actress ever -Liv Ullmann.