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Images: My Life in Film
Following the success of his bestselling autobiography The Magic Lantern, the most influential film director of our time shares his wisdom and insights about himself and his cinematic work. Bergman's career spanned 40 years and produced over 50 films, many of which are considered classics. Over 200 photos.
442 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1990
About the author
Ingmar Bergman
132 books566 followersErnst Ingmar Bergman was a nine-time Academy Award-nominated Swedish film, stage, and opera director. He depicted bleakness and despair as well as comedy and hope in his explorations of the human condition. He is recognized as one of the greatest and most influential filmmakers in cinematic history.
He directed 62 films, most of which he wrote, and directed over 170 plays. Some of his internationally known favorite actors were Liv Ullmann, Bibi Andersson, and Max von Sydow. Most of his films were set in the stark landscape of his native Sweden, and major themes were often bleak, dealing with death, illness, betrayal, and insanity.
Bergman was active for more than 60 years, but his career was seriously threatened in 1976 when he suspended a number of pending productions, closed his studios, and went into self-imposed exile in Germany for eight years following a botched criminal investigation for alleged income tax evasion.
He directed 62 films, most of which he wrote, and directed over 170 plays. Some of his internationally known favorite actors were Liv Ullmann, Bibi Andersson, and Max von Sydow. Most of his films were set in the stark landscape of his native Sweden, and major themes were often bleak, dealing with death, illness, betrayal, and insanity.
Bergman was active for more than 60 years, but his career was seriously threatened in 1976 when he suspended a number of pending productions, closed his studios, and went into self-imposed exile in Germany for eight years following a botched criminal investigation for alleged income tax evasion.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 45 reviews
July 9, 2020
«واقعیت این است که من همیشه در دوران کودکی‌ام زندگی می‌کنم، در آپارتمان های نیمه تاریک سرگردانم، در خیابان های بی سر و صدای اوپسالا قدم می‌زنم، جلوِ کلبه‌ی تابستانی ایستاده ام و به صدای درخت غانی که دو تنه عظیم داشت گوش میدهم. با سرعتی گیج کننده حرکت می‌کنم. حقیقت این است که من مدام در رویاهایم زندگی می‌کنم، که بخش هایی از آن سر از واقعیت در می اورند.»
«تفاوت گذاشتن میان آن‌چه در تخیلم می‌گذشت و آن‌چه واقعیت داشت برایم دشوار بود. اگر سعی می‌کردم احتمالا میتوانستم واقعیت را واقعی کنم! ولی از آن طرف مثلا، همیشه ارواح و تصویر هایی وجود داشتند. قرار بود با آن ها چه کنم؟ و افسانه ها، واقعیت داشتند یا نه؟»
برگمان این کتاب رو به دلیل نارضایتی از محتوای کتابی که قبل ترها چاپ شده بود(برگمان به روایت برگمان) نوشته. نظراتش رو توی اون کتاب تا حدی ریاکارانه میدونسته و میگه چندان صادق نبوده! تصمیم می‌گیره روی "برگمان به روایت برگمان"ِ جدیدی کارکنه، کتابی که واقعی تر و عینی تر باشه. پس شروع میکنه به بازبینی فیلم هاش و ورق زدن کارکتاب های مربوط به اون زمان ها. اوایل کار حس می‌کرده نگاه به گذشته و یادآوریش براش خوش آیند نیست و خیلی دردناکه ولی با این وجود میگه که فیلم هاش رو دوست داشته حتی بدی هاشون رو!! چون در زمان ساخت‌شون حداکثر تلاشش رو کرده بوده.
وودی آلن توی مقدمه کتاب از تاثیری که برگمان روی شخصیتش و کارهاش گذشته صحبت میکنه. میگه برگمان از فرآیند کار لذت می‌برده و واکنش ها براش اهمیتی نداشته، از تحسین لذت می‌برده ولی حتی یک لحظه هم بهش نیازی نداشته.
آلن در جوابِ روزنامه نگارهایی که بعد از مرگ برگمان باهاش تماس می‌گرفتن و ازش می‌پرسیدن برگمان چه تاثیری روش گذاشته میگه:
«او یک نابغه بود و من نیستم. نبوغ چیزی نیست که بیاموزی و جادوی آن را دست به دست کنی.[...]از کارهای او آموختم که بهترین کاری که در لحظه از عهده‌اش برمی‌ایم انجام بدهم و هرگز تسلیم دنیای احمقانه پرفروش یا نفروش بودن یا نقش پر زرق و برق کارگردان نشوم. بلکه فیلمم را بسازم و بروم سراغ بعدی. »
«تفاوت گذاشتن میان آن‌چه در تخیلم می‌گذشت و آن‌چه واقعیت داشت برایم دشوار بود. اگر سعی می‌کردم احتمالا میتوانستم واقعیت را واقعی کنم! ولی از آن طرف مثلا، همیشه ارواح و تصویر هایی وجود داشتند. قرار بود با آن ها چه کنم؟ و افسانه ها، واقعیت داشتند یا نه؟»
برگمان این کتاب رو به دلیل نارضایتی از محتوای کتابی که قبل ترها چاپ شده بود(برگمان به روایت برگمان) نوشته. نظراتش رو توی اون کتاب تا حدی ریاکارانه میدونسته و میگه چندان صادق نبوده! تصمیم می‌گیره روی "برگمان به روایت برگمان"ِ جدیدی کارکنه، کتابی که واقعی تر و عینی تر باشه. پس شروع میکنه به بازبینی فیلم هاش و ورق زدن کارکتاب های مربوط به اون زمان ها. اوایل کار حس می‌کرده نگاه به گذشته و یادآوریش براش خوش آیند نیست و خیلی دردناکه ولی با این وجود میگه که فیلم هاش رو دوست داشته حتی بدی هاشون رو!! چون در زمان ساخت‌شون حداکثر تلاشش رو کرده بوده.
وودی آلن توی مقدمه کتاب از تاثیری که برگمان روی شخصیتش و کارهاش گذشته صحبت میکنه. میگه برگمان از فرآیند کار لذت می‌برده و واکنش ها براش اهمیتی نداشته، از تحسین لذت می‌برده ولی حتی یک لحظه هم بهش نیازی نداشته.
آلن در جوابِ روزنامه نگارهایی که بعد از مرگ برگمان باهاش تماس می‌گرفتن و ازش می‌پرسیدن برگمان چه تاثیری روش گذاشته میگه:
«او یک نابغه بود و من نیستم. نبوغ چیزی نیست که بیاموزی و جادوی آن را دست به دست کنی.[...]از کارهای او آموختم که بهترین کاری که در لحظه از عهده‌اش برمی‌ایم انجام بدهم و هرگز تسلیم دنیای احمقانه پرفروش یا نفروش بودن یا نقش پر زرق و برق کارگردان نشوم. بلکه فیلمم را بسازم و بروم سراغ بعدی. »
December 2, 2014
Sven Nykvist is the greatest cinematographer of all time. I want to live inside some of those black and white frames.
July 21, 2008
One of the best books on Bergman's films; Bergman on Bergman, essentially. One great thing about this book is that it's filled with lots of images from his movies. It's a wonderful book just to browse through. Bergman has worked with some of the best cinematographers, and these still shots are simply beautiful. I've been inspired to watch a number of these films just because of the photos in this book. Couple this with Bergman's own comments and excerpts from his personal diaries and journals makes it an essential addition to the cineast's library. The only thing that holds it back from a full 5 star rating is the fact that not every Bergman film is mentioned. Bergman picks and chooses specific films from the various periods of his career. But just about all of his most well known films are discussed, as well as many that are less well known. Highly recommended!
May 15, 2018
My main problem with this book is its lack of sequential logic, and, as an extension, its lack of discipline. The publishers claim it's "written" by Bergman, when it's in fact transcriptions from Lasse Bergstrom's interviews with him, presented as if Bergman had sat down and written it. As such, the book is presented in dry prose format, but mined from material that floated off the top of Bergman's head. He tends to sound like a character in one of his films -- less insightful into his artistic process and more obfuscating, poetic, writhing around in his stereotypical existential agony ("The film is a tombstone over a traumatic conflict, which ran like an inflamed nerve throughout throughout my conscious life.")
The organization of Images is also confusing: It is not in chronological order, which I would have preferred -- Bergman is unique in that he wasn't born a great director. It took him as long as other directors' careers to "become" Bergman; I wanted to learn how his life correlated to the trajectory of his films. Instead, they organize it arbitrarily by "theme": for some reason Wild Strawberries, Persona, and Cries and Whispers -- three completely different films from completely different eras in his career -- are lumped in to "Dreams Dreamers." Huh?
So this is, for the most part, a disappointing read. It is worth it, though, for good little moments that would delight fans who have seen enough of his stuff. If the names Liv, Harriet, Bibi, Max, Gunnar, and Ingrid mean something to you, his discussions of how much he loves his actors near the end of his book is wonderful. His discussion of his "First Films" is the only section that works through things sequentially, and it's fascinating to hear him talk practically about how worked his way from the lower ranks of the Swedish studio system to eventually become... ya know, Ingmar Bergman. And, of course, there's this, which is basically catnip for film dorks:
"If I had had the strength to do what I intended to do at the beginning, it would not have turned out that way. I love and admire the filmmaker Tarkovsky and believe him to be one of the greatest of all time. My admiration for Fellini is limitless. But I also feel that Tarkovsky began to make Tarkovsky films and that Fellini began to make Fellini films. Yet Kurosawa has never made a Kurosawa film. I have never been able to appreciate Buñuel. He discovered at an early stage that it is possible to fabricate ingenious tricks, which he elevated to a special kind of genius, particular to Buñuel, and then he repeated and varied his tricks. He always received applause. Buñuel nearly always made Buñuel films. So the time has come for me to look in the mirror and ask: Where are we going? Has Bergman begun to make Bergman films?"
The organization of Images is also confusing: It is not in chronological order, which I would have preferred -- Bergman is unique in that he wasn't born a great director. It took him as long as other directors' careers to "become" Bergman; I wanted to learn how his life correlated to the trajectory of his films. Instead, they organize it arbitrarily by "theme": for some reason Wild Strawberries, Persona, and Cries and Whispers -- three completely different films from completely different eras in his career -- are lumped in to "Dreams Dreamers." Huh?
So this is, for the most part, a disappointing read. It is worth it, though, for good little moments that would delight fans who have seen enough of his stuff. If the names Liv, Harriet, Bibi, Max, Gunnar, and Ingrid mean something to you, his discussions of how much he loves his actors near the end of his book is wonderful. His discussion of his "First Films" is the only section that works through things sequentially, and it's fascinating to hear him talk practically about how worked his way from the lower ranks of the Swedish studio system to eventually become... ya know, Ingmar Bergman. And, of course, there's this, which is basically catnip for film dorks:
"If I had had the strength to do what I intended to do at the beginning, it would not have turned out that way. I love and admire the filmmaker Tarkovsky and believe him to be one of the greatest of all time. My admiration for Fellini is limitless. But I also feel that Tarkovsky began to make Tarkovsky films and that Fellini began to make Fellini films. Yet Kurosawa has never made a Kurosawa film. I have never been able to appreciate Buñuel. He discovered at an early stage that it is possible to fabricate ingenious tricks, which he elevated to a special kind of genius, particular to Buñuel, and then he repeated and varied his tricks. He always received applause. Buñuel nearly always made Buñuel films. So the time has come for me to look in the mirror and ask: Where are we going? Has Bergman begun to make Bergman films?"
November 2, 2012
I got this book after reading The Magic Lantern, another autobiographical book by Ingmar Bergman, and found the latter to be more focused on his theatre work (and continuous ill health) than his cinema that I love.
This book gives great insights into the mind of the Swedish master as he made his remarkable films. Throughout the book you will find the endless self-depricatory prose that is familiar to anyone who has read The Magic Lantern. what I found so interesting were the excerpts from his diaries and workbooks, showing the process of decisions and ideas that led to the finished film.
As a film maker and writer myself, the highlight had to be the original inspiration, the very thing that started what became a film, be it four women in white in a red room (Cries & Whispers) or four characters coming out of a silent ocean (through a glass darkly).
This book gives great insights into the mind of the Swedish master as he made his remarkable films. Throughout the book you will find the endless self-depricatory prose that is familiar to anyone who has read The Magic Lantern. what I found so interesting were the excerpts from his diaries and workbooks, showing the process of decisions and ideas that led to the finished film.
As a film maker and writer myself, the highlight had to be the original inspiration, the very thing that started what became a film, be it four women in white in a red room (Cries & Whispers) or four characters coming out of a silent ocean (through a glass darkly).
January 24, 2024
Bergman recounts memories and pulls on the threads of his creative process to reveal both an introspective and honest recount of his days as both a theater director and film director. I found it very interesting reading the things he found flawed and what he would change and just how personally rooted almost all of his projects were. I know Bergman didn’t find himself to be a comedic expert at any point but from the films I’ve seen it’s an underrated and understated part of his work. Also very fun to read about his influences (primarily The Magic Flute) that stuck with him throughout his career. Ingmar Bergman is a legend and I can’t wait to continue my journey through his universe.
December 14, 2019
Not the literary work that The Magic Lantern is, but possibly more useful. For a film maker notoriously reluctant to re-watch his own works and discuss them, here we basically get the closest we'll ever get to Bergman doing commentary tracks on his films, discussing (almost) every movie, the background, the creative process, and what he thinks of them now. Some (but not many) he finds himself liking more than he thought. Some he can only find faults in. Which is his prerogative even when I'd say he's wrong.
March 2, 2023
Singura care mă ține în viață, pentru că e singura pe care am fost în stare să o deschid zilele astea fără să simt că vrea ceva de la mine.
April 27, 2020
I think, with the limited knowledge and understanding I have of cinema, Bergman is my favourite filmmaker and trumps very closely over Goddard for me. Movies are like what books to me, I can only wallow in the depth of some of its finest creations and marvel at the intelligence of its creator but retain very little of it, to describe and share precisely my feelings about it. Nevertheless its impressions stay etched, however vague, and help carry me through some of the drudgery of a workman's life.
Bergman's works have left some of the largest such impressions in this journey, and travel's through his world have been very memorable indeed. His movies, at least the successful and notable ones that I have largely seen of a career spanning at least 35 movies, appears so complete and accomplished in all respect and accomplished - technically, visually, writing wise, psychologically, philosophically - there are so many details and aspects you need to grasp and you do grasp because he brings out the details so clearly, inspite of how heavy and complex the materials he presents may seem. I feel he doesn't obscure his movies with subliminal messages and symbolism and go-figure-it-out-yourself, he just serves it straight and unambigiously. This maybe arguable given the substance of legendary The Seventh Seal and a few other movies but the meanings appeared clear to me when I saw them (of course, I would not be able to argue on the aspects of any of his movies now, without a study and refresh), I did not have to scratch my head to figure it out. His art is as simple as Hemingway & Dostoevsky yet deep in it's representation of psychology , almost spiritual.
Being a fan, I picked up this book to understand more of Bergman's craft and technique. To get a first hand account of how he achieved the levels he has, of movies quite a few of which are favorite of mine. While not a technical account on his movies, it does provide an insight into Bergman's feelings about the movies. He describes in some details on the origins about the movies, his state of mind or the circumstance which sowed the seeds of the particular movie in his head, referencing the details from maybe copious records in maintained in his "workbook". His memory and recall of them appears so clear and precise, just like his screen plays, almost a psychoanalysis of himself at the time of forming the movie as much as of the characters he was developing. I almost felt his disappointment, his dejections, his happiness, his relief, in making the movies
Of course it is strange when he downgrades a movie as a personal disappointment, a movie you liked and consider one of his greatest movie like Autumn Sonata , disparaging your opinion and feelings about the awesomeness you would so vehemently argue about only to be knocked down with a simple counter "Bergman himself did not like the movie".
That said, it was satisfying read, and I think I can put off for a while now a further layman's research towards getting better perspective of Bergman's movies, since I just reached and left the source of the Amazon.
PS: BTW, in this book, Bergman has stated that the previous book 'Bergman on Bergman', to be hypocritical as he claims "in that book, I appear less candid, always on guard, and quite fearful. Even questions that are only slightly provocative are given short shrift. I take pains to give answers that might arouse sympathy. I plead for an understanding that, in any case, is impossible." So this book would take precedent to Bergman and Bergman and you may want to skip that.
Bergman's works have left some of the largest such impressions in this journey, and travel's through his world have been very memorable indeed. His movies, at least the successful and notable ones that I have largely seen of a career spanning at least 35 movies, appears so complete and accomplished in all respect and accomplished - technically, visually, writing wise, psychologically, philosophically - there are so many details and aspects you need to grasp and you do grasp because he brings out the details so clearly, inspite of how heavy and complex the materials he presents may seem. I feel he doesn't obscure his movies with subliminal messages and symbolism and go-figure-it-out-yourself, he just serves it straight and unambigiously. This maybe arguable given the substance of legendary The Seventh Seal and a few other movies but the meanings appeared clear to me when I saw them (of course, I would not be able to argue on the aspects of any of his movies now, without a study and refresh), I did not have to scratch my head to figure it out. His art is as simple as Hemingway & Dostoevsky yet deep in it's representation of psychology , almost spiritual.
Being a fan, I picked up this book to understand more of Bergman's craft and technique. To get a first hand account of how he achieved the levels he has, of movies quite a few of which are favorite of mine. While not a technical account on his movies, it does provide an insight into Bergman's feelings about the movies. He describes in some details on the origins about the movies, his state of mind or the circumstance which sowed the seeds of the particular movie in his head, referencing the details from maybe copious records in maintained in his "workbook". His memory and recall of them appears so clear and precise, just like his screen plays, almost a psychoanalysis of himself at the time of forming the movie as much as of the characters he was developing. I almost felt his disappointment, his dejections, his happiness, his relief, in making the movies
Of course it is strange when he downgrades a movie as a personal disappointment, a movie you liked and consider one of his greatest movie like Autumn Sonata , disparaging your opinion and feelings about the awesomeness you would so vehemently argue about only to be knocked down with a simple counter "Bergman himself did not like the movie".
That said, it was satisfying read, and I think I can put off for a while now a further layman's research towards getting better perspective of Bergman's movies, since I just reached and left the source of the Amazon.
PS: BTW, in this book, Bergman has stated that the previous book 'Bergman on Bergman', to be hypocritical as he claims "in that book, I appear less candid, always on guard, and quite fearful. Even questions that are only slightly provocative are given short shrift. I take pains to give answers that might arouse sympathy. I plead for an understanding that, in any case, is impossible." So this book would take precedent to Bergman and Bergman and you may want to skip that.
July 7, 2021
برگمان متولد ۱۴ ژوئیه سال ۱۹۱۸ بود و بعدها در ۳۰ام همان ماه در سال ۲۰۰۷ درگذشت. پدرش یک کشیش بود و خودش می‌گوید روزی نبوده که به مرگ فکر نکند. مرگ، مذهب و ایمان از مضامین پرتکرار فیلم‌هایش هستند. فیلم‌هایی که هرکدام جاودانه در تاریخ سینما جاخوش کرده و نمایانگر عمق وجود شخصیت‌هایش هستند. او یکی از کارگردان های بسیار دقیق در زمینه گرفتن کلوزآپ از شخصیت هایش بود. کلوزآپ‌هایی که از چهره شوستروم در توت فرنگی‌های وحشی تا چهره اولمن در پرسونا در حافظه تک تک سینما دوستان ماندگار شده‌اند. حال برگمان دوربین را اینبار سمت خود گرفته است؛ اینبار زمان آن رسیده که کلوزآپ برگمان از چهره خودش را ببینیم. کلوزآپی ۲۰۰ صفحه‌ای که برای آنهایی که آثارش را می‌شناسند بسیار لذت‌بخش و برای آنان که هنوز غرق در آثارش نشده‌اند بسیار شوق‌آور است...(من ترجمه چشمه را به قلم خانم امامی خواندم که متاسفانه لینکش در گودریدز یافت نشد!)
December 18, 2022
My sixth and final Bergman-related book of 2022
February 16, 2023
Essential reading to Ingmar Bergman fans, this book includes his ruminations on films throughout his career. First published in 1990 when he was 72 and eight years past his final theatrical film, Fanny and Alexander, this has very much the feel of an artist looking back on his body of work and sharing his thoughts and memories of his journey. He quotes from his journals, tells anecdotes about the making of almost all of his films, and often criticizes his work looking back on it decades later. That’s one of the most striking things, reading in his own words just how much angst he felt about his professional and personal life. He was very sensitive and hard on himself and those around him, and writes without mincing words. Many of his films are masterpieces and many more are very good, but even for them, he spends a lot of time finding faults and explaining what he should have done better.
The book spans his career (barring his television work which continued on sporadically over the next 13 years), but the coverage of his films is rather uneven. There is a semblance of structure applied in sections like “Dreams Dreamers” which group films with similar themes, but overall it lacks organization and there are bits that could have used editing. On the other hand it’s an organic work, feels like sitting with the old master, and often provided wonderful insights into films I absolutely adore.
Here are some notable bits I picked up along the way:
- Wild Strawberries (1957) – “I was feuding bitterly with my parents. I couldn’t talk to my father and didn’t even want to. Mother and I tried time and again for a temporary reconciliation, but there were too many skeletons in our closets, too many poisonous misunderstandings. We were making the effort, since we so wanted peace between us, but we kept failing. I imagine that one of the most impelling forces behind Wild Strawberries could be found in that situation. I tried to put myself in my father’s place and sought explanations for the bitter quarrels with my mother. I was quite sure I had been an unwanted child … Later, my mother’s diary verified this notion of mine: faced with this wretched, almost dying child, she had feelings that were decidedly ambivalent.”
- Wild Strawberries (1957) – “Isak Borg equals me. I B equals Ice and Borg (the Swedish word for fortress). Simple and facile. I had created a figure who, on the outside, looked like my father but was me, through and through. I was then thirty-seven, cut off from all human relations. It was I who had done the cutting off, presumably as an act of self-affirmation. I was a loner, a failure, I mean a complete failure. Though successful. And clever. And orderly. And disciplined. … I didn’t know then, and even today I don’t know fully, how through Wild Strawberries I was pleading with my parents: see me, understand me, and – if possible – forgive me.
- On making use of his personal demons in his art: “Although I am a neurotic person, my relation to my profession has always been astonishingly non-neurotic. I have always had the ability to attach my demons to my chariot. And they have been forced to make themselves useful. At the same time they have still managed to keep on tormenting and embarrassing me in my private life.”
- On American filmmaking in the 1940’s, when he started working at Svensk Filmindustri: “This technique was extremely obvious, almost rigid; the audience must never have the slightest doubt where they were in a story. Nor could there be any doubt about who was who, and the transitions between various points of the story were to be treated with care. High points should be allotted and placed at specific places in the script, and the culmination had to be saved for the end. Dialogue had to be kept short. Literary terms were forbidden.”
- Lorens Marmstedt’s advice to Bergman which he said was “invaluable to me throughout my professional life”: “When you and your pals see your dailies, you’re in a state of emotional chaos. No matter what, you want everything to be good. That’s the reason you have a natural tendency to make excuses for your failures and overestimate what you’re seeing. All of you are supporting one another. This is normal, but it’s also dangerous. Submit yourself to a psychological exercise. Don’t be enthusiastic. Don’t be critical either. Put yourself at point zero. Don’t let your emotions get involved with what you’re seeing. They you’ll see everything.”
- Thirst (1949): “Birgit Tengroth also made a directorial contribution that I will not forget: it taught me something new and decisive. The two women are sitting together in the summer twilight, sharing a bottle of wine. Birgit is rather drunk and gets a cigarette from Mimi, who also lights it for her. Then Mimi slowly brings the burning match toward her own face and holds it for a moment by her right eye before it goes out. This was Birgit Tengroth’s idea. I remember it clearly since I had never done anything like that. To build the plot with small, almost imperceptible, suggestive details became a special component in my future filmmaking.”
- Sawdust and Tinsel (1953): “The drama had its origin in a dream. I depicted the dream in the flashback about Frost and Alma. It’s rather easy to interpret. A few years earlier I had been madly in love. Pretending professional interest, I enticed my beloved to tell me in detail about her multifaceted erotic experiences. The peculiar excitement of a fresh jealousy over her long-pat actions scratched and tore at my innards and my genitals. The most primitive rituals of shame became a permanent alloy in my jealousy. Jealousy became a kind of dynamite that nearly exploded out of me, its creator.”
- From the Life of the Marionettes (1980): “Another mistake, as big as a beauty mark, is the letter that Peter writes but never mails. It doesn’t make sense psychologically. … Unfortunately, on this point I did not follow William Faulkner’s sound advice: kill your darlings. In other words, I should have cut it.”
- The Seventh Seal (1957); it was fascinating to me to find that Death playing chess was a mural by Albertus Pictor from 1480 and was in the Täby Church just outside Stockholm; “I checkmate thee,” indeed: “I sometimes accompanied my father when he went to preach in some country church. Like all churchgoers have at times, I let my mind wander as I contemplated the altarpieces, triptychs, crucifixes, stained-glass windows, and murals. I would find Jesus and the two robbers in blood and torment, and Mary leaning on St. John: Woman, behold thy son, behold thy mother. Mary Magdalene, the sinner, who had been the last to sleep with her? The Knight playing chess with Death. Death sawing down the Tree of Life, a terrified wretch wringing his hands at the top of it. Death leading the dance to the Land of Shadows, wielding his scythe like a flag, the congregation capering in a long line, and the jester bringing up the rear.”
- The Seventh Seal (1957): “What attracted me was the whole idea of people traveling through the downfall of civilization and culture, giving birth to new songs. One day when I was listening to the final choral in [Carl Orff’s] Carmina Burana, it suddenly struck me that I had the theme for my next film!”
- The Seventh Seal (1957): “For him [studio head Carl Anders Dymling] to agree to let me do the film, I had to promise to make the film quickly, in thirty-six days, not including days spent traveling to and from the exteriors. It had to be an extremely inexpensive production. … The stream in the dark forest where the wanderers meet the witch was created with the help of the fire department and actually caused some violent overthrows. If you look carefully, you will see a mysterious light reflecting from behind some trees. That is a window in one of the nearby high-rise apartment buildings.” Is this roughly at 1:11:45?
- The Seventh Seal (1957); this boggles my mind, imagine being one of those tourists: “The final scene when Death dances off with the travelers was, as I said, shot at Hovs hallar. We had packed up for the day because of approaching storm. Suddenly, I caught sight of a strange cloud. Gunnar Fischer hastily set the camera back into place. Several of the actors had already returned to where they were staying, so a few grips and a couple of tourists danced in their place, having no idea what it was all about. The image that later became famous of the Dance of Death beneath the dark cloud was improvised in only a few minutes.”
- The Seventh Seal (1957): “Since at the time I was still very much in a quandary over religious faith, I placed my two opposing beliefs side by side, allowing each to state its case in its own way. In this manner, a virtual cease-fire would exist between my childhood piety and my newfound harsh rationalism. Thus, there are no neurotic complications between the knight and his vassals. Also, I infused the characters of Jof and Mia with something that was very important to me: the concept of the holiness of the human being. If you peel off the layers of various theologies, the holy always remains. … I believe a human being carries his or her own holiness, which lies within the realm of the earth; there are no other-worldly explanations.”
- Through a Glass Darkly (1961): “The Seventh Seal is definitely one of my last films to manifest my conceptions of faith, conceptions I had inherited from my father and carried along with me from childhood. When I made The Seventh Seal, both prayers and invocations to something or someone were central realities in my life; to offer up a prayer was a completely natural act. In Through a Glass Darkly, my childhood inheritance was put to rest. I maintained that every conception of a divine god created by human beings must be a monster, a monster with two faces, or, as Karin puts it, the spider-god.”
- On the “trilogy” of spiritual films, Through a Glass Darkly (1961), Winter Light (1963), and The Silence (1963): “With Vilgot Sjöman’s help I wrote an introductory note [to the publishing of these screenplays together in a book] that explained: “These three films deal with a reduction. Through a Glass Darkly – conquered certainty. Winter Light – penetrated certainty. The Silence – God’s silence – the negative imprint. Therefore, they constitute a trilogy.” The note was written in May 1963. Today I feel that the ‘trilogy’ has neither rhyme nor reason. It was a Schnaps-Idee, as the Bavarians say, meaning that it’s an idea found at the bottom of a glass of alcohol, not always holding up when examined in the sober light of day.”
- Through a Glass Darkly (1961); I was surprised Bergman mentions a suicide so casually: “Gunnar [Björnstrand] portrays a best-selling author: here I wrote of my own situation – that of being successful yet not being recognized or respected. I let David [the character] explore my aborted suicide in Switzerland during the time before Smiles of a Summer Night. The text is hopeless cynical. I let David draw an extraordinarily dubious conclusion from his suicidal attempt: in seeking his own death he finds renewed love for his children.” Bergman does expand on it later in the book as the intention of driving over the edge of a serpentine roadway leading to a hotel near Monte Verita, Italy in 1955, but not going through with after getting a telegram from studio head Carl Anders Dymling to make Last Couple Out (1956).
- Winter Light (1963): “True suffering comes from knowing the commandment of love and seeing how human beings betray themselves and each other when it comes to love. How they defile love. Christ’s clearsightedness must have caused his greatest suffering.”
- Summer Interlude (1950): “I had trouble trying to depict the happiness of youth. I believe the problem is that I myself never felt young, only immature. As a child, I never associated with other young people. I isolated myself from my peers and became a loner. … Summer Interlude has a long history. Its origin, I see now, lies in a rather touching love affair that I had one summer when my family resided on Ornö island. I was sixteen years old and, as usual, was stuck with extra activities during my summer vacation and could only occasionally participate in activities with people my own age. Besides, I did not dress as they did; I was skinny, had acne, and stammered whenever I broke my silence and looked up from reading Nietzsche. … On the far end of this so-called Paradise Island, toward the bay, there lived a girl who was also alone. A timid love grew between us, as often happens when two young lonely people seek each other out.”
- On his least favorite films: “Few of my films do I feel ashamed of or detest for various reasons. This Can’t Happen Here (1950) was the first one; I completed in accompanied by violent inner opposition. The other is The Touch (1971). Both mark the very bottom for me.”
- On influences: “For a long time I had considered making a movie without dialogue. In the 1930’s, a Czech movie director, Gustav Machaty, made two films – Ecstasy and Nocturno – which were both visual narratives, practically without dialogue. I saw Ecstasy when I was eighteen years old, and it deeply affected me. This was partly a natural reaction because, for once, one was allowed to see a nude woman on screen, but more important, because the move told nearly everything through images alone.”
- Summer with Monika (1953) and the absolutely wonderful Harriet Andersson: “I have never made a less complicated film than Summer with Monika. We simply went off and shot it, taking great delight in our freedom. And the public success was considerable. It was immensely gratifying to bring out a natural talent such as Harriet Andersson and watch how she behaved in front of the camera. … Harriet Andersson is one of cinema’s geniuses. You meet only a few of these rare, shimmering individuals on your travels along the twisting road of the movie industry jungle. Here is an example of her talent: The summer has ended. Harry is not at home; Monika goes on a date with a guy named Lelle. At the coffee shop he drops a coin into the jukebox. With the swing music resounding, the camera turns to Harriet. She shifts her glance from her partner straight into the lens. Here is suddenly established, for the first time in the history of film, shameless, direct contact with the viewer.”
- The Passion of Anna (1969): “My philosophy (even today) is that there exists an evil that cannot be explained – a virulent, terrifying evil – and humans are the only animal to possess it. An evil that is irrational and not bound by law. Cosmic. Causeless. Nothing frightens people more than incomprehensible, unexplainable evil.”
- Speaking of the background to Brink of Life (1958), and on his detachment as a father and adultery, a bit shocking how easily he admits this: “I recall that there had been medical attendants stationed in the theaters. People had a tendency to faint from pure fright. I also recall that the medical advisor for the film, Dr. Lars Engstrom, allowed me to be present during a birth at the Karolinska Hospital. It was a traumatic and edifying experience. Even though I was the father of five children by that time, I had never been present at any of the births (that’s how things were back then). Instead, I got drunk or played with my miniature electric trains or went to the movies or rehearsed or worked on a movie or, inappropriately, paid attention to other women. I don’t quite remember the details.”
- On his character: “My own relationship to comedy has been complicated, however, and the difficulties go way back in time. As a child I was considered sullen and too sensitive. From an early age onward it was said that ‘Ingmar has no sense of humor.’”
- Smiles of a Summer Night (1955): “Smiles of a Summer Night further develops themes from A Lesson in Love (1954). It explores the frightening insight that it is possible for two people to love each other even when find it impossible to live together. It also contains a bit of nostalgia, looking back at my own life and my relationship with my daughter, full of great confusion and sorrow.”
- Fanny and Alexander (1982): “Through my playing, I want to master my anxiety, relieve tension, and triumph over my deterioration. I want to depict, finally, the joy that I carry within me in spite of everything, and which I so seldom and so feebly have given attention to in my work. To be able to express the power of action, decisiveness, the vitality, and the kindness. Yes, for once, that would not be a bad idea.”
The book spans his career (barring his television work which continued on sporadically over the next 13 years), but the coverage of his films is rather uneven. There is a semblance of structure applied in sections like “Dreams Dreamers” which group films with similar themes, but overall it lacks organization and there are bits that could have used editing. On the other hand it’s an organic work, feels like sitting with the old master, and often provided wonderful insights into films I absolutely adore.
Here are some notable bits I picked up along the way:
- Wild Strawberries (1957) – “I was feuding bitterly with my parents. I couldn’t talk to my father and didn’t even want to. Mother and I tried time and again for a temporary reconciliation, but there were too many skeletons in our closets, too many poisonous misunderstandings. We were making the effort, since we so wanted peace between us, but we kept failing. I imagine that one of the most impelling forces behind Wild Strawberries could be found in that situation. I tried to put myself in my father’s place and sought explanations for the bitter quarrels with my mother. I was quite sure I had been an unwanted child … Later, my mother’s diary verified this notion of mine: faced with this wretched, almost dying child, she had feelings that were decidedly ambivalent.”
- Wild Strawberries (1957) – “Isak Borg equals me. I B equals Ice and Borg (the Swedish word for fortress). Simple and facile. I had created a figure who, on the outside, looked like my father but was me, through and through. I was then thirty-seven, cut off from all human relations. It was I who had done the cutting off, presumably as an act of self-affirmation. I was a loner, a failure, I mean a complete failure. Though successful. And clever. And orderly. And disciplined. … I didn’t know then, and even today I don’t know fully, how through Wild Strawberries I was pleading with my parents: see me, understand me, and – if possible – forgive me.
- On making use of his personal demons in his art: “Although I am a neurotic person, my relation to my profession has always been astonishingly non-neurotic. I have always had the ability to attach my demons to my chariot. And they have been forced to make themselves useful. At the same time they have still managed to keep on tormenting and embarrassing me in my private life.”
- On American filmmaking in the 1940’s, when he started working at Svensk Filmindustri: “This technique was extremely obvious, almost rigid; the audience must never have the slightest doubt where they were in a story. Nor could there be any doubt about who was who, and the transitions between various points of the story were to be treated with care. High points should be allotted and placed at specific places in the script, and the culmination had to be saved for the end. Dialogue had to be kept short. Literary terms were forbidden.”
- Lorens Marmstedt’s advice to Bergman which he said was “invaluable to me throughout my professional life”: “When you and your pals see your dailies, you’re in a state of emotional chaos. No matter what, you want everything to be good. That’s the reason you have a natural tendency to make excuses for your failures and overestimate what you’re seeing. All of you are supporting one another. This is normal, but it’s also dangerous. Submit yourself to a psychological exercise. Don’t be enthusiastic. Don’t be critical either. Put yourself at point zero. Don’t let your emotions get involved with what you’re seeing. They you’ll see everything.”
- Thirst (1949): “Birgit Tengroth also made a directorial contribution that I will not forget: it taught me something new and decisive. The two women are sitting together in the summer twilight, sharing a bottle of wine. Birgit is rather drunk and gets a cigarette from Mimi, who also lights it for her. Then Mimi slowly brings the burning match toward her own face and holds it for a moment by her right eye before it goes out. This was Birgit Tengroth’s idea. I remember it clearly since I had never done anything like that. To build the plot with small, almost imperceptible, suggestive details became a special component in my future filmmaking.”
- Sawdust and Tinsel (1953): “The drama had its origin in a dream. I depicted the dream in the flashback about Frost and Alma. It’s rather easy to interpret. A few years earlier I had been madly in love. Pretending professional interest, I enticed my beloved to tell me in detail about her multifaceted erotic experiences. The peculiar excitement of a fresh jealousy over her long-pat actions scratched and tore at my innards and my genitals. The most primitive rituals of shame became a permanent alloy in my jealousy. Jealousy became a kind of dynamite that nearly exploded out of me, its creator.”
- From the Life of the Marionettes (1980): “Another mistake, as big as a beauty mark, is the letter that Peter writes but never mails. It doesn’t make sense psychologically. … Unfortunately, on this point I did not follow William Faulkner’s sound advice: kill your darlings. In other words, I should have cut it.”
- The Seventh Seal (1957); it was fascinating to me to find that Death playing chess was a mural by Albertus Pictor from 1480 and was in the Täby Church just outside Stockholm; “I checkmate thee,” indeed: “I sometimes accompanied my father when he went to preach in some country church. Like all churchgoers have at times, I let my mind wander as I contemplated the altarpieces, triptychs, crucifixes, stained-glass windows, and murals. I would find Jesus and the two robbers in blood and torment, and Mary leaning on St. John: Woman, behold thy son, behold thy mother. Mary Magdalene, the sinner, who had been the last to sleep with her? The Knight playing chess with Death. Death sawing down the Tree of Life, a terrified wretch wringing his hands at the top of it. Death leading the dance to the Land of Shadows, wielding his scythe like a flag, the congregation capering in a long line, and the jester bringing up the rear.”
- The Seventh Seal (1957): “What attracted me was the whole idea of people traveling through the downfall of civilization and culture, giving birth to new songs. One day when I was listening to the final choral in [Carl Orff’s] Carmina Burana, it suddenly struck me that I had the theme for my next film!”
- The Seventh Seal (1957): “For him [studio head Carl Anders Dymling] to agree to let me do the film, I had to promise to make the film quickly, in thirty-six days, not including days spent traveling to and from the exteriors. It had to be an extremely inexpensive production. … The stream in the dark forest where the wanderers meet the witch was created with the help of the fire department and actually caused some violent overthrows. If you look carefully, you will see a mysterious light reflecting from behind some trees. That is a window in one of the nearby high-rise apartment buildings.” Is this roughly at 1:11:45?
- The Seventh Seal (1957); this boggles my mind, imagine being one of those tourists: “The final scene when Death dances off with the travelers was, as I said, shot at Hovs hallar. We had packed up for the day because of approaching storm. Suddenly, I caught sight of a strange cloud. Gunnar Fischer hastily set the camera back into place. Several of the actors had already returned to where they were staying, so a few grips and a couple of tourists danced in their place, having no idea what it was all about. The image that later became famous of the Dance of Death beneath the dark cloud was improvised in only a few minutes.”
- The Seventh Seal (1957): “Since at the time I was still very much in a quandary over religious faith, I placed my two opposing beliefs side by side, allowing each to state its case in its own way. In this manner, a virtual cease-fire would exist between my childhood piety and my newfound harsh rationalism. Thus, there are no neurotic complications between the knight and his vassals. Also, I infused the characters of Jof and Mia with something that was very important to me: the concept of the holiness of the human being. If you peel off the layers of various theologies, the holy always remains. … I believe a human being carries his or her own holiness, which lies within the realm of the earth; there are no other-worldly explanations.”
- Through a Glass Darkly (1961): “The Seventh Seal is definitely one of my last films to manifest my conceptions of faith, conceptions I had inherited from my father and carried along with me from childhood. When I made The Seventh Seal, both prayers and invocations to something or someone were central realities in my life; to offer up a prayer was a completely natural act. In Through a Glass Darkly, my childhood inheritance was put to rest. I maintained that every conception of a divine god created by human beings must be a monster, a monster with two faces, or, as Karin puts it, the spider-god.”
- On the “trilogy” of spiritual films, Through a Glass Darkly (1961), Winter Light (1963), and The Silence (1963): “With Vilgot Sjöman’s help I wrote an introductory note [to the publishing of these screenplays together in a book] that explained: “These three films deal with a reduction. Through a Glass Darkly – conquered certainty. Winter Light – penetrated certainty. The Silence – God’s silence – the negative imprint. Therefore, they constitute a trilogy.” The note was written in May 1963. Today I feel that the ‘trilogy’ has neither rhyme nor reason. It was a Schnaps-Idee, as the Bavarians say, meaning that it’s an idea found at the bottom of a glass of alcohol, not always holding up when examined in the sober light of day.”
- Through a Glass Darkly (1961); I was surprised Bergman mentions a suicide so casually: “Gunnar [Björnstrand] portrays a best-selling author: here I wrote of my own situation – that of being successful yet not being recognized or respected. I let David [the character] explore my aborted suicide in Switzerland during the time before Smiles of a Summer Night. The text is hopeless cynical. I let David draw an extraordinarily dubious conclusion from his suicidal attempt: in seeking his own death he finds renewed love for his children.” Bergman does expand on it later in the book as the intention of driving over the edge of a serpentine roadway leading to a hotel near Monte Verita, Italy in 1955, but not going through with after getting a telegram from studio head Carl Anders Dymling to make Last Couple Out (1956).
- Winter Light (1963): “True suffering comes from knowing the commandment of love and seeing how human beings betray themselves and each other when it comes to love. How they defile love. Christ’s clearsightedness must have caused his greatest suffering.”
- Summer Interlude (1950): “I had trouble trying to depict the happiness of youth. I believe the problem is that I myself never felt young, only immature. As a child, I never associated with other young people. I isolated myself from my peers and became a loner. … Summer Interlude has a long history. Its origin, I see now, lies in a rather touching love affair that I had one summer when my family resided on Ornö island. I was sixteen years old and, as usual, was stuck with extra activities during my summer vacation and could only occasionally participate in activities with people my own age. Besides, I did not dress as they did; I was skinny, had acne, and stammered whenever I broke my silence and looked up from reading Nietzsche. … On the far end of this so-called Paradise Island, toward the bay, there lived a girl who was also alone. A timid love grew between us, as often happens when two young lonely people seek each other out.”
- On his least favorite films: “Few of my films do I feel ashamed of or detest for various reasons. This Can’t Happen Here (1950) was the first one; I completed in accompanied by violent inner opposition. The other is The Touch (1971). Both mark the very bottom for me.”
- On influences: “For a long time I had considered making a movie without dialogue. In the 1930’s, a Czech movie director, Gustav Machaty, made two films – Ecstasy and Nocturno – which were both visual narratives, practically without dialogue. I saw Ecstasy when I was eighteen years old, and it deeply affected me. This was partly a natural reaction because, for once, one was allowed to see a nude woman on screen, but more important, because the move told nearly everything through images alone.”
- Summer with Monika (1953) and the absolutely wonderful Harriet Andersson: “I have never made a less complicated film than Summer with Monika. We simply went off and shot it, taking great delight in our freedom. And the public success was considerable. It was immensely gratifying to bring out a natural talent such as Harriet Andersson and watch how she behaved in front of the camera. … Harriet Andersson is one of cinema’s geniuses. You meet only a few of these rare, shimmering individuals on your travels along the twisting road of the movie industry jungle. Here is an example of her talent: The summer has ended. Harry is not at home; Monika goes on a date with a guy named Lelle. At the coffee shop he drops a coin into the jukebox. With the swing music resounding, the camera turns to Harriet. She shifts her glance from her partner straight into the lens. Here is suddenly established, for the first time in the history of film, shameless, direct contact with the viewer.”
- The Passion of Anna (1969): “My philosophy (even today) is that there exists an evil that cannot be explained – a virulent, terrifying evil – and humans are the only animal to possess it. An evil that is irrational and not bound by law. Cosmic. Causeless. Nothing frightens people more than incomprehensible, unexplainable evil.”
- Speaking of the background to Brink of Life (1958), and on his detachment as a father and adultery, a bit shocking how easily he admits this: “I recall that there had been medical attendants stationed in the theaters. People had a tendency to faint from pure fright. I also recall that the medical advisor for the film, Dr. Lars Engstrom, allowed me to be present during a birth at the Karolinska Hospital. It was a traumatic and edifying experience. Even though I was the father of five children by that time, I had never been present at any of the births (that’s how things were back then). Instead, I got drunk or played with my miniature electric trains or went to the movies or rehearsed or worked on a movie or, inappropriately, paid attention to other women. I don’t quite remember the details.”
- On his character: “My own relationship to comedy has been complicated, however, and the difficulties go way back in time. As a child I was considered sullen and too sensitive. From an early age onward it was said that ‘Ingmar has no sense of humor.’”
- Smiles of a Summer Night (1955): “Smiles of a Summer Night further develops themes from A Lesson in Love (1954). It explores the frightening insight that it is possible for two people to love each other even when find it impossible to live together. It also contains a bit of nostalgia, looking back at my own life and my relationship with my daughter, full of great confusion and sorrow.”
- Fanny and Alexander (1982): “Through my playing, I want to master my anxiety, relieve tension, and triumph over my deterioration. I want to depict, finally, the joy that I carry within me in spite of everything, and which I so seldom and so feebly have given attention to in my work. To be able to express the power of action, decisiveness, the vitality, and the kindness. Yes, for once, that would not be a bad idea.”
February 28, 2024
"Here, in my solitude, I have the feeling that I contain too much humanity."
Been a while since I enjoyed a book in its entirety, start to finish. It's mostly that I have a harder time reading if I'm not a big fan of the book's style. I'll run to the silver screen if I want some narrative delight. For books, I need that style. And Ingmar Bergman had style, in the silver screen, that is. He was in full command of the silver screen, along with cinematographer Sven Nykvist (Gunnar Fischer for earlier masterpieces such as The Seventh Seal and Wild Strawberries), and his earnestly loyal stock company of Max von Sydow, Gunnar Björnstrand, Bibi Andersson, Liv Ullmann, Eva Dahlbeck, Ingrid Thulin, Erland Josephson, Harriet Andersson, and Gunnel Lindblom. Images: My Life in Film reveals a lot of autobiographical moments that served as inspirations behind his films. Lots of interesting moments here including Bergman feeling that Wild Strawberries isn't his film anymore, rather it belongs to Victor Sjöstrom now, who does absolutely steal the show, the people whom Bergman and his wife wanted to rent a house on Orno from turning them down because "They were of the opinion that nice tenants should not make obscene films" (The Silence had just opened), Liv Ullmann's "incredibly loyal effort" for Face to Face, an abandoned suicide attempt—"I have often toyed with the idea of suicide, especially when I was younger and my demons threatened to overtake me"—and dedicating a page to just praising his actors, and some for Harriet Andersson alone and Gunnar Björnstrand alone. Lovely read. Didn't ever bore me.
"Through my playing, I want to master my anxiety, relieve tension, and triumph over my deterioration. I want to depict, finally, the joy that I carry within me in spite of everything, and which I so seldom and so feebly have given attention to in my work. To be able to express the power of action, decisiveness, the vitality, and the kindness. Yes, for once, that would not be a bad idea."
Been a while since I enjoyed a book in its entirety, start to finish. It's mostly that I have a harder time reading if I'm not a big fan of the book's style. I'll run to the silver screen if I want some narrative delight. For books, I need that style. And Ingmar Bergman had style, in the silver screen, that is. He was in full command of the silver screen, along with cinematographer Sven Nykvist (Gunnar Fischer for earlier masterpieces such as The Seventh Seal and Wild Strawberries), and his earnestly loyal stock company of Max von Sydow, Gunnar Björnstrand, Bibi Andersson, Liv Ullmann, Eva Dahlbeck, Ingrid Thulin, Erland Josephson, Harriet Andersson, and Gunnel Lindblom. Images: My Life in Film reveals a lot of autobiographical moments that served as inspirations behind his films. Lots of interesting moments here including Bergman feeling that Wild Strawberries isn't his film anymore, rather it belongs to Victor Sjöstrom now, who does absolutely steal the show, the people whom Bergman and his wife wanted to rent a house on Orno from turning them down because "They were of the opinion that nice tenants should not make obscene films" (The Silence had just opened), Liv Ullmann's "incredibly loyal effort" for Face to Face, an abandoned suicide attempt—"I have often toyed with the idea of suicide, especially when I was younger and my demons threatened to overtake me"—and dedicating a page to just praising his actors, and some for Harriet Andersson alone and Gunnar Björnstrand alone. Lovely read. Didn't ever bore me.
"Through my playing, I want to master my anxiety, relieve tension, and triumph over my deterioration. I want to depict, finally, the joy that I carry within me in spite of everything, and which I so seldom and so feebly have given attention to in my work. To be able to express the power of action, decisiveness, the vitality, and the kindness. Yes, for once, that would not be a bad idea."
January 1, 2015
This book is about as insightful as one can hope for in a book about Bergman. We are told at the end of the book that these were adapted from interview questions and then edited by Bergman. It certainly feels that way. There's a disjointed quality to what would be the natural flow of a memoir and it makes for uneven reading. With that said, it's difficult to be too critical of a book that provides so much comprehensive analysis of even the smallest of Bergman's films. We are left understanding Bergman's inner demons almost as well from this text as we do from Bergman's films.
March 1, 2022
I read a review where someone mentioned Bergman did not talk about all of his films and that was a drawback to the book. Bergman either talks about them all or just about all of them. There is not a chapter for every film otherwise this book would be a lot longer than the 442 pages it is.
Reading this book and seeing the images makes me want to go back and watch some of the old dramas and the comedies (especially those with Eva Dalbach and Gunnar Bjornstrand. This is a must for any Bergman fan.
Reading this book and seeing the images makes me want to go back and watch some of the old dramas and the comedies (especially those with Eva Dalbach and Gunnar Bjornstrand. This is a must for any Bergman fan.
December 30, 2018
Such a confounding and intriguing book. Ingmar Bergman has not written a straightforward autobiography; that would be too simple, too dull. Instead, he provides a series of topically grouped essays, each one discussing a primary film but touching on additional films and plays that he directed. Bergman's story is therefore not told in chronological order, and within each essay he leaps forward and backward in time, and includes segments of his notebooks and scripts. This style is frustrating in the early chapters, when Bergman references events that he has not yet discussed in detail. As the reader continues, it is easier to piece together the arc of Bergman's career — early struggles, his pivots between depression and financial triumph in the 1960s, tax struggles, and his semi-retirement — and identify connections within his musings. Bergman expounds on his transition from Calvinism to atheism, while sustaining faith in the dignity of human life. He adores high art and has no qualms about seeking to make a profit from his films, but recoils when faced with shallow members of the bourgeoisie. Making pictures to fulfill contractual obligations is literally painful for him. Bergman is candid about his numerous marriages and affairs, treating them analytically. Ironically, he is much more matter-of-fact about his womanizing than his films, about which he is totally subjective and impassioned, contrary to his cheeky promise that he will discuss his films objectively. He thinks most of his films, including ones that received worldwide acclaim, are misfires, if not failures. Only "The Magic Flute," "Persona," "Cries and Whispers," "Smiles of a Summer Night," "The Seventh Seal," and "Fanny and Alexander" rank highly in his assessment, and half of those films emerged amid torment, bouts of illness, and struggles with studios.
I wonder if one might impose some cohesion on the narrative by reading the chapters in the order the films were released, instead of reading them in thematic clusters. This would only resolve the stream-of-consciousness structure in part, and it would probably undermine the postmodern aesthetic Bergman wanted for this book. What we really have here is a glimpse into Bergman's mind, his memory and imagination playing with time in free-associative ways (and, in reality, engaging with the man who interviewed him). The still images from Bergman's films, many of them photographed by Sven Nykvist, are spare and beautiful. Bergman has created a puzzle box for the reader, who learns a bit about the way Bergman thinks without fully comprehending the man himself.
I wonder if one might impose some cohesion on the narrative by reading the chapters in the order the films were released, instead of reading them in thematic clusters. This would only resolve the stream-of-consciousness structure in part, and it would probably undermine the postmodern aesthetic Bergman wanted for this book. What we really have here is a glimpse into Bergman's mind, his memory and imagination playing with time in free-associative ways (and, in reality, engaging with the man who interviewed him). The still images from Bergman's films, many of them photographed by Sven Nykvist, are spare and beautiful. Bergman has created a puzzle box for the reader, who learns a bit about the way Bergman thinks without fully comprehending the man himself.
March 29, 2020
If you like Bergman, this memoir is a great inside look to how he felt about the films he made throughout his career.
____
"I love and admire the filmmaker Tarkovsky and believe him to be one of the greatest of all time. My admiration for Fellini is limitless. But I also feel that tarkovsky began to make Tarkovsky films and that Fellini began to make Fellini films. Yet Kurosawa has never made a Kurosawa film."
____
"I love and admire the filmmaker Tarkovsky and believe him to be one of the greatest of all time. My admiration for Fellini is limitless. But I also feel that tarkovsky began to make Tarkovsky films and that Fellini began to make Fellini films. Yet Kurosawa has never made a Kurosawa film."
February 20, 2022
Like with most director's writing, I am far more fascinated by how they speak of their personal lives instead of their films. In this case, Bergman does have a lot to offer. His almost nonchalant retelling of the time he stopped just short of committing suicide is one of the most startling things I've read in some time. I'll definitely have to go back and re-watch most of his films now to satiate my appetite.
July 24, 2022
Feel like a book of this kind is always going to be a double-edged sword; getting access to the thoughts and processes behind the films is obviously a rare blessing, but at the same time with work of this calibre, with those contributors, there's so much to know and with that in mind so little said. Only little in you could have a book of this size for each of his greats. But enjoyable, even if you finish it with a sense of frustration.
January 12, 2023
Bizler çocukken bir şey biriktiririz , sonraları yitirip yok ettigimiz bir şey. Buna ruh denir öyle değil mi? Bergman, Imgeler.
Imgeler kitabi Bergman'in filmlerine toplu bir bakis. Bu nedenle degerli bir kitap. Filmlerin altinda yatan anlamlari , filmlerin olusum sureclerini, yasadıgı zorlukları Bergman detaylı bir sekilde anlatmis. Buyulu Fener kitabina atifta bulunmus. O kitabi bundan once okumuştum. Bergman severlerin begenecegi bir kitap..Meraklisina tavsiye ederim.
Imgeler kitabi Bergman'in filmlerine toplu bir bakis. Bu nedenle degerli bir kitap. Filmlerin altinda yatan anlamlari , filmlerin olusum sureclerini, yasadıgı zorlukları Bergman detaylı bir sekilde anlatmis. Buyulu Fener kitabina atifta bulunmus. O kitabi bundan once okumuştum. Bergman severlerin begenecegi bir kitap..Meraklisina tavsiye ederim.
September 16, 2021
Nice perspective into Bergman and his life as a film maker. I especially appreciated the images that included behind the scenes perspectives of Bergman's films. Bergman's writing is tricky only because there's never the guarantee that what he is saying is the truth or just his view of the truth. Thus it's an interesting read, but cannot be looked at as the "final word" of Bergman and his films.
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June 19, 2023u know those people that talk irl in purple prose because they actually think that way and how they’re tormented by idk life?
ingmar bergman was one of these people and god the words that came out of that man’s mouth (either through interviews or his movies via screenplays)
i now understand why he had a thousand children by different women
ingmar bergman was one of these people and god the words that came out of that man’s mouth (either through interviews or his movies via screenplays)
i now understand why he had a thousand children by different women
October 18, 2017
If you're a fan of Bergman's films, then you will probably be into this book. Bergman is more candid about his body of work than he ever has been in any interview or even previous publications. One of the greatest filmmakers of all time.
May 4, 2019
Not a bad accompaniment to the Criterion box set, but at times it feels pieced together from other sources. Still, some good insight.
March 8, 2022
estuve super entusiasmada con las fotos del making of i love cinema
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April 16, 2022I read this aloud to the resident cinephile. It was interesting how plagued by self-doubt Bergman was even when he had achieved massive international critical acclaim.
June 4, 2022
Not enough insight into the Bergman movies that tap into Freudian and assorted existential tenets. Perhaps this is the most that he would ever reveal about the neuroses that shaped his craft.
November 15, 2023
It’s a comfort knowing that even one of the all-time great directors was also an insecure little freak
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December 7, 2023March 29, 2023
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