A Hora do Amor

Obviously meant for the US market starring Gould. Hardly a notable Bergman production, but much above most comparable run of the mill Hollywood production. Is it worth seeing now? For curious viewers and Bergman fans, mostly. Ghee those actors are sexy.

It's the story of a married woman falling in love with another man. The married couple - Max von Sydow and Bibi Andersson - does live in fine rapport, their personalities matching well. Both are quiet, contemplative, and very rational persons, not liable to act spontaneous. The intruder - Elliott Gould - on the idyll which they embody together with their teenaged daughter is in contrast an impetuous man, uncompromising, overbearing, and tormented by inner contradictions and compulsions. Andersson tells him at one point that he hates himself. The two clandestine lovers aren't appropriate for each other. They have difficulties to accept the other's social behaviour and stance and don't like it to lie to their environments. But soon they cannot live without each other anymore.

The point of the film cannot be to show how two contrary characters complement each other, as Andersson was even more happy with von Sydow before and because it's all told in such a detached manner. The portrait of a love would like to involve the spectators to convey the joy and pain of it. Instead the question why Andersson turns away from von Sydow toward Gould seems intentionally perplexing. The dialogues and acting of the lovers is cerebral and cold, as if they were reciting dazedly on a stage, astounding themselves with their actions and feelings. As if they were actuating on an impulse isolate from their personalities. This impulse or drive is not eros, as especially at the beginning of their affaire sex is more a problem than a fulfilment to these two diffident lovers. Maybe love or the need to feel and give love is itself such a drive, an autonomous thing asserting itself regardless of the circumstances and the characters involved.

The central metaphor of the film is a medieval wooden statue of Mary, recently excavated after being buried for centuries - like Gould's and Andersson's potential to be lovers or man and woman. But with the disinterment of the Mary there also come alive insect larvae inside her, corroding her from within. Before they meet Gould attempted suicide and Andersson was reduced to a wife. They flower in their new love and it destroys their lives.

Civilization means in many ways the domestication of our impulses. Therefore Andersson realizes that she must not harm lastingly her family and Gould's hidden wife/sister. This is true. But Gould is telling her that she is lying to herself by not eloping with him and he's right, too.

I guess the ones who are most apt to truly understand the depth of this movie are those who live a situation similar as Anderson's character - a housewife, dutiful to her husband and children, living a normal, stable, yet boring life. Then bursts into her life a charming, attractive, mysterious and intriguing man. Elliott Gould gives an amazing performance - different from the usual type of character he portrays, still perfect and natural. Thinking back at the movie, I cannot imagine any other actor doing playing the role the way he does. The movie is simply wonderful.

Not as bad as the recently watched The Serpent's Egg (1977) made in West Germany but still enough of a Curate's egg to ensure that the bad parts infect the whole. The English dialogue, written by Bergman is wretched and it is an indication of the man's dictatorial attitude that it should have got through to the screen. Elliott Gould seems terrible but that may be in part because of the words he has to spout, well maybe he should have said something, or improvised like he has before. Not with God in the room, perhaps. Bibi Andersson does better and truly apart from the stunning cinematography is the only reason to watch this abomination. Starting appallingly, the film does pick up, probably as with any bad film, we almost get used to the unconvincing dialogue but then the last third is almost laughable. The director has, of course made great films, before and after this, so we will put it down to having been 'lost in translation' and leave it to the completists.

...and I think part of the reason for that is, aside from some notable uses of symbolism (some subtle, some not so subtle, in part due to the photography), the story is rather simple. This gives Bergman room to try and get us to understand these characters. In lessor hands (or rather, hands not as proficient in the soul-searching drama as Bergman is) this could be almost a TV melodrama. But I would disagree with some critics- notably with Ebert- that Bergman has lost his tone with this picture. In some ways it is more modernly set than some of his other films (and that it is in English sets it apart from some of his trademark Svensk Filmindustri pictures), however it doesn't hurt it terribly so. There were times while watching the film, mostly in the first fifty minutes, that I thought this was one of Bergman's best, by giving his control somewhat over to the actors, who are all sensational. While it doesn't quite live up towards the end, and feels abruptly finished, the climax doesn't feel too compromised. The Touch is like the Adrian Lyne film (which draws itself from a Chabrol film) Unfaithful, only this film seems a little more steeped in reality than outright sexuality.

Karin (Bibi Andersson, one of Bergman's key actresses) lives a rather calm, routine life with her husband Andreas (Max von Sydow) and their two children. After her mother dies (which I suppose sets up her emotional indecisiveness for the film), she meets David (Elliot Gould), and the two slowly begin an affair. But David is not the most stable of people, and it shakes Karin up at first. Soon they fall in love, but are separated, the sort of usual machinations with an infidelity story begin to unfold, and yet not losing the emotions from before. The three key actors of the film, Andersson, Von Sydow, and Gould, seem to live in these characters, and especially Gould (for whom this would be his only role with the director) conveys a sort of double nature that is also within Karin. His performance is one that I would put in a list of his best- you can tell everything he wants and fears in his face and actions, within the careful framing, this is a man on the edge. Bergman had once described Gould as a "difficult" actor to work with, but that tension came out the right way on screen, at least from my perspective.

As I mentioned, in lessor hands this could become a further melodrama, and part of the films refusal to subvert to that category is a credit to not only Bergman, but to cinematographer Sven Nykvist. Whenever I see a film with their collaboration (or even if it's Nykvist with, perhaps, a lessor director), I always watch for how Nykvist moves the camera. How seamlessly he follows these characters, and in their darkest recesses he lights them like the light and control on their faces is part of the writing. A lot of times (appropriately so) one may not even feel the presence of the camera, as if Nykvist doesn't even have a technique. But it is here where not only does he and Bergman go with their touches of light and dark, they also go for a documentary feel in the production.

Basically, this is an experiment for Bergman, as it is for his fans to endure. He's experimenting with a genre done hundreds of times, he experiments with music (unlike some of his dramas, which includes Bach or Mozart, here it's kind of pop-sounding for the period), and he experiments with his cast this time around. Is it as powerful and awe-inspiring as his "trilogy" or his other great works? Probably not. But it is unfortunately panned down as a lessor work of his, which isn't necessarily true. The film also needs to be seen by more people of today, as it is virtually impossible to buy on video or DVD. A-