This is only the second Ingmar Bergman film I've seen in color, as well as the first with dubbing rather than subtitles, because that's what the DVD offered. The dub dialog is finely chosen, but the accents are so heavy that I didn't immediately realize it was English. Regardless, I could appreciate the advantage of not having to read the whole time, even if I had to remind myself not to get distracted by the slight disconnect between the words and the lip movements.
Famed pianist Charlotte (Ingrid Bergman, with the similarly named but unrelated director for once) visits her eldest daughter, Eva (Liv Ullmann), for the first time in ages. She is unpleasantly surprised to find her other daughter, Helena (Lena Nyman), living there too. Helena has limited mobility and apparently some sort of brain damage, her speech rarely intelligible to anyone but Eva. Eva's husband, Viktor (Halvar Björk), is also present but mostly keeps to himself, especially when Charlotte and Eva are conversing, since these two have considerable issues with each other.
Ingmar focusing on the relationship of two women automatically reminds me of Persona (1966), which, while one of his most esteemed pictures, got too weird for my taste. To my relief, he had largely outgrown his artiest phase by now and could tell a credible story with ordinary cinematography. Of course, when the cast is small and most of the action is talking in a house, with little regard for visual variety, I'm not entirely sure that cinema is the right medium.
This is not to say I was bored. Most of the 99 minutes are pretty quiet, but with a hint of crackling tension. After the main women have had a few drinks, they rather suddenly spell out each others' grievances with fervor. I consider that scene the highlight.
The gist of the conflict: In pursuit of her career success, Charlotte had put aside little time for her children. When she did pay Eva more attention, it was arguably worse, with all her faultfinding driving home the message that Eva was unlovable as herself. After listening to these complaints, Charlotte asserts a semi-valid defense of her actions, but our sympathy runs more to her daughter.
Not all their troubles can be traced to this conflict or the burden of caring for Helena. Charlotte has just become a widow yet again and knows she's losing her touch at the piano (what we hear is good but not worthy of a globally esteemed pro). Eva lost a young son and doesn't really love Viktor. It could be that the stresses from these have inflamed the women's reactions to each other.
Emotionally, this may be the most painful Ingmar Bergman piece I've ever seen. That said, it's the kind of pain I half-welcome in my viewing experiences, made all the better with a hopeful ending. It's liable to come to mind the next time I learn of real-life familial strains and tragedies.
I have my doubts of how many more of his works I'll see. But if this was my last ever, it wasn't a bad note to sign off on.
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