A Carruagem Fantasma

It's undeniable that The Phantom Carriage's influence precedes itself. From its iconography of the grim reaper, it's Christmas Carol-esque tale of repentance, to echoes of Jack Nicholson chopping down the door in The Shining. If The Phantom Carriage is known for anything, it's for being Ingmar Bergman's source of inspiration for what his films would later muse upon. He would later recruit director and star Victor Sjostrom to lead on of his most acclaimed films Wild Strawberries. Of course, we already know how profound these concepts are nearly 100 years later and their importance is still imbedded in the film. It's fascinating to watch inventive techniques of translucence portrayed on screen too, though admittedly the prior year's Caligari is more impressive. Its real problem is undisciplined structure and its resulting poor pacing, but these are archaic issues of silent cinema that required a few years of trial and error. Nevertheless, the atmosphere is palpable, the ideas are timeless and it oozes with passion from Sjostrom, if not as nightmare worthy as the next year's Nosferatu.

8/10

„Lord, let my soul come to maturity before it is reaped…"

"Strange...unusual..."someone may think...to begin a review on this film with a prayer, more to say, a prayer not to achieve wisdom or intellect but...maturity - something that has hardly been a theme of many top notch productions - something hardly even mentioned as a human merit in the commercial world - yet, something at the core of this film's message.

In the period of supermen and thrilling actions, viewer's eyes and perceptions are not used to such reflective dimensions. However, it appears that Victor Sjoestrom's masterpiece, based on the 1912 novel THY SOUL SHALL BEAR WITNESS by the Noble Prize winner Selma Lagerlof finds its most profound gist in that. THE PHANTOM CARRIAGE made almost 90 years ago is a milestone in Swedish cinema and a notable film that has overwhelmed eminent people of the 20th century, including Ingmar Bergman. But, I usually ask myself a question, especially before the meditative time of November, what is it that makes such films stand out as masterpieces. Is it the direction, the cinematography, special effects, narrative structure, or perhaps something less common in an ordinary discussion...?

Having watched the restored version with its newly commissioned soundtrack by KTL, I had a feeling that I was watching something unique. Of course, I had heard before how significant it was for the cinema but that did not play a decisive role in my experience. I was mesmerized whilst my own subjective viewing and found this silent pearl captivating. Yes, Sjostrom's film touched me tremendously with its innovative structure of flashbacks (although there are flashbacks within flashbacks, I did not get confused), with its powerful cinematography by Julius Jaenzon, with its flawless direction by the master of Swedish cinema who plays the lead as well. The images that are in this film are really hard to forget, hard to skip. The viewer is, as if, taken to its world, experiences what the characters get through, absorbs oneself to a great extend with what one sees in this silent masterpiece. Everything seems to be balanced and crafted so well, including the movements of the camera, the extensive use of special effects, double exposures in the visualization of the ghost characters who walk in three dimensions, the tension and the performances of the great Swedish cast of the time.

It is truly hard to skip the mesmerizing, symbolic, even ICONIC moments of the movie when the driver of the 'strict master' (Death) arrives at various spots, including the sea (intense visual experience), the room of a rich suicide, the streets as well as the graveyard where David (Victor Sjostrom) is to substitute his pal Georges (Tore Svennberg) on that memorable New Year's Eve. The visual feast finds its climax at the moment when David, having visited the dying Edit (Astrid Holm), the member of the Fralsningsarmen (Salvation Army), arrives finally at his home and sees the drama of his wife and children, the drama caused by his monster-like behavior. The visual moment worth high consideration is when David comes back to his home obscene and drunk, is closed in the kitchen by his wife who is afraid of tuberculosis infection and he brutally takes the axe and breaks through the door. The whole drama becomes visually and mentally so powerful that tears are running on the cheeks of a more delicate viewer. However, the greatest maturity of the film is its content so vividly derived from Selma Lagerlof's novel and so creatively executed in this picture...

There is everything that human heart can experience: love, disappointment, courage, sympathy, fear, bad influence, fights, suffering, loneliness, sorrow, wretchedness, despair, but finally the glory of reconciliation and tears of joy. There are truly different psychological dimensions, or more to say, mental journeys that the director, with the masterful power of the source novel, invites us to experience. There are elements of gloom, the elements of intensive mysticism; there is a redeeming power of prayer for other people (the plot of Edit) and the gist of penance. While the film seems to touch the very heart of Christianity at certain moments, it also appears to evoke thought provoking feelings about what, in fact, is the most important value in life.

The bitter experience of the leading character makes us shocked at first but...in time, indifferent to his feelings. He becomes a villain in our eyes. Although the character of Georges proves to us the consequences of bad influence, we don't see David as a victim (sort of) but as a single human being responsible for himself. We, as viewers, at certain moment, stop feeling empathy with the character but rather concentrate on other people, good people and cry with them. But, at the right moment, we seem to realize his plea to God, his fruitful tears of penance, we seem to forgive him as his wife (Hilga Borgstrom) does forgive him. The human heart appears to shout out from its depths: "Genuine redemptive tears!" What a drama! What a psychological feast! What a movie that evokes such feelings! That is the profoundity of THE PHANTOM CARRIAGE and though that aspect may be considered difficult to capture for some viewers, I think it is an absolute necessity while analyzing this film.

Although the movie has become a source of inspiration for many eminent people of cinema, I think that not all of them understood its gist in the right manner. Enthusiastically speaking, it is another silent film that proves the masterful nature of the early cinema and a film that may be seen from different angles. Nevertheless, there is also a danger that we condense its meaning to a sheer scary movie and look through the terrifying moments ignoring the rest. That would be nothing but an unforgivable conjecture. THE PHANTOM CARRIAGE is a story of a joyful gift, of another chance to become mature, a redemptive chance. Masterpiece, 10/10

Much said without words.

This is an excellent movie. It was made in color-not color as in today's films, but a special mono-color use (with shadings) that portrayed meaning, mood, sense and time. It should be seen in color, as it becomes an entirely different film. The story, by Nobel prize-winner Selma Lagerlöf, is effectively presented. One never has a clear sense of real, memory or phantom. Changes going on in Swedish society at the time are subtly layered. Most highly recommend. Try to rent it or find it on-line. I saw it in a Swedish film class and I want to add it to my film library.

The premise of this movie is intriguing, and based on an old Swedish legend which said that the last sinner to die on New Year's Eve would have to spend the next year driving Death's carriage picking up the souls of people who die. From the beginning we're pulled in to this story by both its special effects and its storytelling. The scenes with the phantom carriage wheeling around, including one over the water to retrieve a drowned soldier, as well as those with a transparent Tore Svennberg and his ominous cloak and scythe, are fantastic. Director Victor Sjöström's use of flashbacks was ahead of its time, and he gradually reveals everything behind a young Salvation Army worker's request to see a man before she dies.

Sjöström also plays that main character, and gives us a great performance in depravity. Among other things, he scorns help from charitable women in the Salvation Army by ripping up repairs to his jacket one spent all night mending, openly tries to pass along his disease (consumption) to others, and after tracking down his wife and small children, hacks down a door with an axe to get at them. It's pretty dark stuff. As he faces an avalanche of guilt over the consequences of his actions and his own impending fate, can he be redeemed? It's a weighty question that would later absorb Ingmar Bergman, who idolized Sjöström, and the link between the two provides additional interest. Aside from the influence the film had on Bergman, 36 years later Sjöström would play the main character in 'Wild Strawberries'. It's also notable that 'The Phantom Carriage' was one of Stanley Kubrick's favorites from the silent era, and that he, too, was influenced when he put together Jack Nicholson's axe scene from 'The Shining'.

As with many of the films from this time period, it drags in places to modern eyes, as interchanges between characters via intertitles and elongated facial expressions sometimes get a little tedious. It's also ultimately a morality tale, which may put some viewers off – and yet, I found the devotion and faith of the Salvation Army sister, as well as the prayer to 'mature one's soul' before dying to be uplifting. We see the dual nature of man in the film, good and evil, and it's put into the larger context of our mortality. It's fantastical, and yet we realize that someday death will come for us all, and whether we believe in an afterlife or not, we hope that we've done good things for others in the world. Well worth watching.

One of the best silent dramas I've seen. As dark and shadowy as anything the German Expressionists produced, but featuring performances that were quite understated and naturalistic for the day. No camera mugging and no unintentional laughs due to wild-eyed arm-waving histrionics. Sjostrom gave a convincing performance as the drunken, mean-spirited and frightening David Holm.

Set mostly at night in a dingy Swedish slum, the film had a very claustrophobic set-bound feel to it, aided by the low key lighting and extensive use of irising.

There was a deep, and typically Scandinavian, sense of despair and hopelessness to the narrative: the film begins in a rather grim present, and then we're told David Holm's story in a series of flashbacks (and flashbacks within flashbacks--a pretty complex story structure for 1921), where his character is offered numerous chances at redemption, but he doesn't take them, and we know he won't take them, because we've seen him die drunk and wretched and mean as ever in the present. The penultimate scene is as dark as any I have seen in all of cinema.

The writing and directing is tight and intelligent, even by today's standards. In several instances, Sjostrom skillfully sets the audience up to suspect one thing, and then pulls out a surprise. The ending might not be such a surprise to some viewers, but I didn't see it coming.

This movie deserves a full restoration and DVD release. Or even a crappy budget release. It just needs to be out there so people can see and appreciate it.

9.5/10, which rounds up to 10/10