À travers le miroir

This was the first Bergman movie I ever watched. Consequently, it holds sort of a special place in my catalogue of movie memories.

I enjoyed the depiction of the numerous relationships between people or objects which were kept apart by walls or a "dark glass." The artist and the fullness of what he/she is attempting to depict, mankind and God, and more particularly in the film, between Minus and women, Minus and David, etc..

The most gripping, however, were the relationship between David and Karin, and between Karin and "God." I'm not going to get into detail for the sake of those who haven't seen the film. But Bjornstrand's line about the "magic circle" we draw around ourselves instantly vaulted close to the top of my list of movie lines which have impacted me.

Lastly, I appreciated how the von Sydow character, Martin, acted as a representation of what love is not, i.e. his desire to always do the right thing, rather than the honest thing.

Between 1957-1963, Ingmar Bergman directed seven films. In my mind, there has never been such an amazingly creative period for a director as the six years between Wild Strawberries and The Silence. Through a Glass Darkly stands out to me as not only the masterpiece of this era, but of Bergman's entire career. This film has such a distinct atmosphere, which conveys not only isolation and melancholy, but also dark, austere beauty. Every little piece of this film fits together like a glorious completed puzzle. The Bach playing over the opening credits. The cinematography, with long, meditative shots in glowing black and white. The performances turned in by Harriet Andersson, Gunner Bjornstrand, and Bergman regular Max von Sydow. Overall, I sense that Bergman's vision is so obviously being displayed on the screen, as if his soul is being laid bare. As a singular piece of art, it is just staggering to behold. I think that everyone has albums or films that they connect with certain periods in their life, that transcend the mundane and just touch you in a profound way. Through a Glass Darkly is one for me. A must see.

Bergman's haunting, somber feature "Through a Glass Darkly" is the kind of distinctive, sometimes uncomfortable, and carefully-crafted movie that can stick in the minds of its viewers long afterwards. Its combination of images, scenery, characters, and themes provides plenty of things to think about, more than could be assimilated in any one viewing. Bergman is one of the very few film-makers who had the knack for making this kind of feature coherent and memorable at the same time.

The story could hardly be more efficient. The very small cast and the tight scenario place a premium on the writing, acting, and photography. The characters have a good balance of similarities and differences that makes for a wide range of possibilities, and the story makes good use of them. The seaside setting is used nicely, with the beautiful scenery and thematic images both complementing the story. The old shipwreck is skillfully worked into a psychologically harrowing sequence.

The setting is combined with the family relationships, biblical allusions, philosophical questions, and much more, to raise a wide range of interesting and thoughtful questions. Although "Through a Glass Darkly" does not feature the extensive use of unusual imagery found in Bergman features like "The Seventh Seal" or "Persona", or the dream sequence from "Wild Strawberries", in its own way it is also effective.

Through a Glass Darkly marks one of the first collaborations between Bergman and his long time cinematographer Sven Nykvist (who passed away this last September). Nykvist shot films as varied as Lasse Hallestroms 'What's Eating Gilbert Grape' to Woody Allen's 'Crimes and Misdemeanors.' Nykvist's touch is present throughout the film, a style that begins to become a part of Bergman's signature mise-en-scene.

Bergman's screenplay is transitional because of it's scarcity of saturation. Using a cast of only four and only one location, the family's country home on an island off the coast of Sweden. Karin (Harriet Andersson) is slowly going mad, her family (fiancée, father and brother) are trying to understand her and not send her away, trying to let her know that things may be alright as she descends into hysteria, talking to walls, waiting for god to come out of the closet.

The film is quite simply a masterpiece. A portrayal of descent into madness and the effect on others that feels more grounded in reality than even the best of films on madness (see: Shock Corridor – Samuel Fuller, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest – Milos Foreman, or The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada – Tommy Lee Jones) Nykvist's mostly static camera gives the film a brooding sense of anticipation, lingering motionlessly, allowing the actors to move freely into deep frames, marginalizing themselves as they move about the large empty frame. The camera even goes so far as to linger a little too long at times, waiting long after the actors have exited the frame, making sure that the audience is aware that the hollowness, these spaces they live and think in exist without them, these voids the audience is watching never go away.

These sentiments are echoed by the well penned script. The father's regret over the madness of his deceased wife, the husbands jealousy, his inability to act, the nearly sexual love the brother feels for Karin, his isolation and inability to get over his immaturity. It's a delicately woven, exquisitely beautiful film on the landscapes of the mind and the solitude of life and the search for god. A good introduction to the psychological drama of Bergman for anyone unfamiliar with one cinema's masters.

Well, we don't see darkly through a glass, and Bergman explains in his "Introductions" that during the ancient times, there were no glass, the mirrors were made of metal, bronze, for instance and while looking through the metal mirror, the face and the background appear darker than in reality. Does it mean that when we look inside ourselves like in the mirror, we appear darker and more sinister than we are? Or the other way around?

"Through a Glass Darkly" is a typically great Bergman's film - four people arrive to an isolated island to spend a few days together, a young woman, her husband, father, and brother. They seem to love one another and are perfectly happy and comfortable in the beginning. It does not last long - not in the Bergman's world. Harriet Anderson was amazing as Karin, a mentally sick young woman, who was just released from the hospital but I believe three other actors playing Father (Gunnar Bjornstrand), Husband (Max von Sydow), and Brother (Lars Passgård) were as good as she was. The Father was especially interesting - he was a reason Karin became ill on the first place and his diary sent her to the total mental breakdown. As with "Persona" and "Autumn Sonata", Bergman is asking again how far is an Artist willing to go for his Art? Here, Father, the writer wants to be a cool and remote observer of his daughter's mental tragedy as a study for his future work. There is a hope, though, in the end. Not for Karin - it is too late for her - but for her confused young brother who is also fighting for his sanity and desperately needs his father's love and understanding. His last words - "Daddy talked to me" - give this bleak and tragic story the hope that his life could be different. Or maybe not...