[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

read her daughter.
In the depths of one night, after Charlotte has been awakened
by a nightmare, the two women have their most incisive encounter.
The eternal fissure between parent and daughter becomes an abyss
of shame and despair. Eva levels one accusation after another at
her mother who, like David in Through a Glass Darkly, finds that
her role as a parent inhibits her from fighting back. Eva claims
that she was denied self-expression, and in a paroxysm of tears she
accuses her mother of forcing her to have an abortion when she
became pregnant while still unmarried.  You re a menace, you
should be locked away so you can t do harm to others! she
exclaims. Then, in a moment of calm after the storm, she reflects:
 Is the daughter s tragedy the mother s triumph? Is my grief [& ]
your secret pleasure?
After her mother has departed, Eva writes a letter to her,
begging forgiveness for her outburst. But what is said is said.
Bergman s religious upbringing still urges him to effect a
reconciliation between his warring characters, however deeply
they wound each other, and even though no dialogue on earth
could ever convincingly expunge their differences.
Perhaps the film would have been even cleaner in form had
Bergman not included the character of Helena (Lena Nyman), who
appears on most occasions as a mere living symbol of Eva s own
incoherency and emotional paralysis. Perhaps Liv Ullmann s
performance is too emphatic, too strident, too  contoured , to use
a favourite Bergman term. But Autumn Sonata will endure as one
of the director s most intimate, painful, and illuminating films, and
Ingrid Bergman endows the role of Charlotte with a blend of
hauteur and vulnerability that encourages the audience to forgive
her the sins of which she is accused by Eva.
During 1977 and 1978, Bergman produced plays at the
Residenztheater in Munich. He staged his third version of A
Dream Play, and also Chekhov s The Three Sisters on June 22,
1978, and less than a month later flew back to Fårö to celebrate his
sixtieth birthday. It was a massive reunion. All eight of
Bergman s children assembled on the island; some were meeting
for the first time in their lives. Then there were the four children
of his wife, Ingrid, by her former marriage. Bibi Andersson was
also there.
At summer s end, Bergman returned to Stockholm to begin
work on a production of Strindberg s The Dance of Death  that
very production interrupted so harshly by the tax authorities two
years earlier. But again it seemed doomed, for Anders Ek,
Bergman s colleague since the forties, collapsed with a fatal
illness. The enterprise was abandoned.
For the first time in the seventies, Bergman had seen a year
elapse without his shooting a film. Instead he toiled on the stage,
in Munich and Stockholm alike, with revivals of Hedda Gabler,
this time with Christine Buchegger in the title role, and Twelth
Night, with Bibi Andersson once more the boyish Viola.
16. The Way Home
In the sombre days of his exile, in 1976, Bergman could
contemplate abandoning Sweden: never Fårö. He closed down his
studios on the island but retained the house he had built a decade
earlier. Not long afterwards, he resolved to make a new
documentary about Fårö and its people and for two years,
beginning in the autumn of 1977, cameraman Arne Carlsson and a
sound engineer were put to work, recording everything within
sight.  What we have filmed, said Bergman,  lasts for 28 hours
but can finally become a film of 1 hour 58 minutes. (1).
Bergman s second tribute to his island, Fårö-dokument 1979,
is at once less ascetic and more optimistic than its predecessor.
Bergman traces a calendar year as it elapses on Fårö: the lambing,
the shearing, the thatching, the slaughter of sheep and pigs, a
funeral, and eternally the fishing smacks plying their trade in the
waters of the Baltic. A fatalism imbues these frugal people, a
quality exemplified to haunting effect in Walter, the solitary self-
sufficient farmer who cooks a meal for himself with all the solemn
ritual of a priest preparing the communion.
Bergman spent the entire summer and early fall of 1979 on
Fårö, following a hallowed routine, doing the same things at the
same time each day  being, by his own admission, just lazy. He
is living proof of the axiom that only a truly efficient person can
be truly lazy.
And yet the screenplay for Fanny and Alexander was being
written during that summer.
Just as Persona emerged from the abortive script known as
The Cannibals, so From the Life of the Marionettes (Aus dem
Leben der Marionetten), which Bergman began shooting in
October 1979, developed from the remains of a massive
screenplay (Love without Lovers) in which the characters of Peter
and Katarina from Scenes from a Marriage figured prominently.
 The film foundered, said Bergman in his introduction to From
the Life of the Marionettes,  but those two refused to go to the
bottom with the rest of the wreckage. They kept stubbornly
recurring in my plans. (2)
The film hinges on a particularly violent, squalid incident. A
Munich businessman, Peter Egermann (Robert Atzorn) murders
and then rapes a prostitute. The victim is known simply as Ka
(Rita Russek), short for Katarina  which happens also to be the
name of Egermann s wife (Christine Buchegger). In his dreams,
Peter has imagined killing his wife, and now, in a horrible
moment, the savagery of the dream invades his conscious state.
Although Marionettes contains thematic links with Scenes
from a Marriage, the new film does not permit its audience the
reassurance of watching an everyday reality. Marionettes bores
deep into the infernal regions of the subconscious. The structure [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
  • zanotowane.pl
  • doc.pisz.pl
  • pdf.pisz.pl
  • exclamation.htw.pl