Monday, 30 April 2018

Last Tango in Paris, Part 2

One of my favourite shots in 'Last Tango in Paris'. Bertolucci's and Storaro's paintly composition and use of color made it memorable.




Bertolucci’s ‘Last Tango in Paris’ has always been an enigma. The film has inspired discussions and debate regarding its meaning ever since it emerged, and all sorts of interpretations have been proposed to the story. Bertolucci did not spell out all the details in the plot, because he wanted to engage the audience to think and use their imaginations. The style of the story is very representative of the style of European art films, when ‘scenarios’ are staged – in a often episodic or poetic manner – and motivations are often ambiguous. Indeed, the scenes in the film were formalized and could be compared to ‘snapshots’ of the characters’ lives. The story of ‘Last Tango’ unfolded in an alternating manner, where the scenes could be either categorized as (a) Paul and Jeanne’s carnal experience in the apartment; and (b) the experience of either Paul or Jeanne in the outside world. The fact that these two scenes were staged in an alternate manner make it similar to a day-and-night dichotomy, and as I have suggested in the previous article, it sort of symbolized the unconscious (represented by desire) and conscious (represented by reality) of the characters’ psychological makeup.
Even when one watches ‘Last Tango’ many times, different interpretations can be given to the story. Did Jeanne have any feelings at all to Paul? Why did Paul’s wife commit suicide? Did Jeanne and Tom have a genuine love relationship? And after all why did Jeanne keep on coming back to Paul if she was not comfortable about that – was she just not sure, or as someone might provocatively suggest, that represented a sadomasochist relationship or Stockholm Syndrome? These are just some of the mysterious questions that have been haunting the audience over the ages, and I believe that is the continuing attraction of ‘Last Tango in Paris’.
Marlon Brando has delivered one of his best ever performance in the form of Paul, the depressed widower. Audience tends to concentrate too much on the controversial sex scenes, and they may overlook Brando’s brilliant performance in this film. As a big fan of him, I in particular enjoy Brando’s performance in the 1970s – from ‘The Godfather’ to ‘Apocalypse Now’ and even his cameo as Jor-El in ‘Superman’. He has delivered first rate monologues, and there was an intricate aspect about most of his roles. While he often starred as characters who possessed power or had the courage to fight for it, there was always a vulnerable dimension in the same character, and that was most evident in his role as Paul in ‘Last Tango’. Paul, having lately lost his wife, was empowering himself through the control on Jeanne, and to be honest, certain cases of his advances towards Jeanne could be considered harassment or even rape. Yet, he was truly desperate and mournful at the same time. I guess the magic from Brando originated from a delicate balance in terms of performance, and that was what made his characters fascinating.
As a method actor, Brando has contributed a lot to his role through improvisation in the film. Indeed, some of the quotes were based on his past recollections. Two sequences were absolutely sublime – Paul’s monologue about his past, when he was reclining in the apartment; and Paul’s monologue to the corpse of his wife. These were brilliant moments because they were the points when Paul really expressed his feelings about his life and beliefs in general. In the other scenes, either he maintained an anonymous relationship with Jeanne, or he tried to distance himself from the others around him, and most of those quotes were banal and vulgar. In general, one could see most of the quotes in the film were in an opaque style, they were often contextual and one could not really draw most inferences from what the characters were thinking – unlike in the narrative-oriented style of classical cinema – and I think that was Bertolucci’s intention after all.
When Paul was alone in front of his wife’s coffin, the monologue delivered by Brando was probably one of the actor’s greatest moments in cinema. Literally talking to a corpse, he has expressed a rich feeling of regret and persecution. Paul lamented the fact he could not access to his late wife’s psyche, and doubted that the intention of his wife to marry him was merely to retreat from life. The scene was important because it exposed Paul’s character flaw and weakness. Bertolucci did not tell us much about Paul’s wife, all the information was from the subjective, and often opinionated comments from Paul. Paul did not feel responsible for the failure of their relationship, and he felt that the reason why the marriage led to a tragic end was because of the infidelity of his wife, which he castigated her as a ‘pig-fxxking liar’ or so on. The comment being both banal and misogynistic, Bertolucci put the audience into Paul’s shoes, and led us to experience the situation from Paul’s point of view. If there was any reason why Paul could never understand his wife – or other women in general – that was because of his passivity. What the story suggested was that Paul’s character could not provide compassion and care to the other half of his relationship, and therefore he could only have these relationships – sexual in many cases – in an instrumental manner. I suppose what Bertolucci was implying was that Paul was repeating history – his relationship with his late wife probably mirrored his relationship with Jeanne.  
Paul the desperado
So, is Paul a bad guy? Well, yes and no. The beauty about the film was really the complexity of Paul’s character, and anyone will probably have a love-hate relationship with him. The audience would hate him for being vulgar and treating women in a disrespectful manner, yet they also wanted to love him because he was vulnerable and was crying for help. I would say Brando has successfully portrayed a character of nihilism, because he could not find much meaningful aspect after he lost his wife. He was just like someone into drugs or severe alcoholism, and foolishly believed that these instruments could help him to pass the time and eventually lead him to a better endpoint. For Paul, his poison was sex. Paul had absolutely no idea that he was railing on a self-destructive path, and his experience with Jeanne would most likely traumatize her also. Instead of looking for genuine romantic love or positive relationship, Paul succumbed to a detached and carnal sexual relationship, and eventually got nothing from that.
After all, the anonymous sexual relationship with Jeanne was merely his psychological defensive mechanism. He wanted to divert his focus from the regret and guilt he had for his failed relationship with his wife. That was why he stressed all the times ‘no names’ to Jeanne, because in a philosophical point of view, names led to associations of things, and thus entailed responsibility. Paul wanted to live the sexual experience one at a time, even if Jeanne provided the subtle implications that their relationships could be developed to another level, like friendship – Jeanne did not mind telling Paul about herself, but was always stopped by him. By engaging with Jeanne in this banal way, Paul was rid of any responsibility and commitment, and could therefore fuel his most nihilistic existence.
Jeanne the enigma
An interesting aspect noted by many viewers was the imbalance of knowledge the audience would be accessible for the two main characters. Bertolucci appeared to allow full access for the audience to understand Paul – he spoke out what he felt and thought about, through his introspective monologues. Yet, Jeanne was very much an enigmatic character. We did not know clearly what her motivations throughout the film were, and how she really felt about her relationship with Paul. That was ironic because it served as a parallel to Paul’s scenario with his dead wife. He failed to understand her and see through her soul, he could not connect with her emotionally.
Jeanne seemed to be a more flexible character, and she was able to fit in to both Paul’s world and her boyfriend’s cinematic world. She was willing to explore for different possibilities, yet it was evident that she has not been able to make up her mind. To me, the reason why Jeanne kept coming back to Paul was because she was confused and she did not see that much harm of engaging the relationship with Paul. Maybe there was a psychological need for her, and she probably did not take the issue seriously. Jeanne was oblivious – or not fully aware of, to be fair – Paul’s emotional turmoil and did not see that he was using her as an instrument to get over the hard times. Because both characters had such a distorted expectation from the relationship, it would be clear that Paul was asking too much from Jeanne. At the near end of the film, Jeanne has made up the decision to marry her boyfriend, and gone to try the bridal gown. Yet out of a bout of indecision, she ran away and went back to the apartment. Later, when she and Paul was in the dance hall, she was juggling with all sort of conflicting feelings about Paul, and eventually decided to leave Paul for good. Yet, Paul continued to pursue her into her apartment, and impulsively, she pulled a gun on her and killed him.
As Jeanne stood almost frozen in the apartment, she kept on rehearsing and repeating that she did not know Paul, and said he tried to rape her, as if practicing the statement to say to the police later. Certainly, the murder was an impulsive act, yet it was clear that Jeanne regretted doing that. Because, Jeanne clearly had some feelings for Paul after all these. In order to defend her from the psychological stress, she tried to pretend the whole relationship has not existed at all. While in a legal standpoint there was a smart move – because after all their relationship was secretive and anonymous, and Jeanne could argue her action as a self-defense from a stalker – emotionally it was unsettling because she was lying to herself. In her heart, she would not forgive herself for doing this, no matter how repulsive Paul might have seemed shortly before that.
Over the years I watched ‘Last Tango in Paris’ again, I have the feeling that Jeanne and Paul’s story could lead to a good ending if they had a better direction for their relationships. What Paul needed was not sex, but someone who could give compassion and listen to him. There should be someone who was willing to understand his plight and prove him wrong on his bleak outlook towards his world. If a romantic love relationship was not possible – Jeanne had a fiancé – then a ‘father-daughter’ type friendship would still be possible, given their age difference. In such a relationship both would be able to contribute. Paul could share more about what he knew to the younger girl, and Jeanne could provide hope and emotional consolation to him. I suppose the reason why ‘Last Tango in Paris’ has become so iconic is not merely because of the dirty lust or so on  - that is because Bertolucci has been able to dig deep into the audience’s soul by expressing something we all care about a lot – the need for human relationships.

-End-

(2/2)

Film Analysis




Friday, 27 April 2018

Last Tango in Paris, Part 1

Maria Schneider and Marlon Brando in 'Last Tango in Paris'.







About 45 years ago, the film critic Pauline Kael made the bold statement that a landmark in the history of cinema emerged. The unusual suspects included a young Italian filmmaker, a middle-age American actor who has just delivered one of the most iconic characters in the history of cinema (and made others a few offers they couldn’t refuse), and a French actress who just reached 20. This international wonder was recognized by many awards, and yet generated enough controversies for which active discussions regarding it have continued to this day. The film is of course Bernardo Bertolucci’s ‘Last Tango in Paris’!

The contemplation of life.

Before we indulge ourselves in this modern classic, I would like to offer a bit of a warning. This film is extremely sexually explicit, and while my discussion will be more about psychology – because I feel it was Bertolucci’s focus after all – there are certain points that we may encounter sexual content, and I hope that will not be offensive to certain readers. The first part will be about background and style, the second part will be about content.

Bernardo Bertolucci

‘The Last Tango in Paris’ can be considered a milestone in the world cinema of the 1970s. It starred the one-and-only Marlon Brando and Maria Schneider, and was directed by a young Bernardo Bertolucci, just after he made another modern classic, ‘The Conformist’. Bertolucci has always been a filmmaker I admire and have an intense fascination in. Ever since I watched his epic ‘Last Emperor of China’ (1987) in my teenage years, I have already found his films visually stunning, mainly due to the contribution from his director of photography, Vittorio Storaro. Bertolucci has always been a very daring and ambitious filmmaker, and his films have often courted controversy, mainly due to the sexual content. While Bertolucci’s films are often politically-driven, there is also a psychological edge in many of them. To be frank, I am more into the psychological aspect, and I guess that’s the reason why ‘Last Tango’ is my favourite Bertolucci film. I have to admit I have a continuing fascination with this film. Though I have watched it more than 20 times, I cannot stop going back to it again and again. The Technicolor feel, the painterly composition, the naked emotion, and Brando’s brilliant performance – all can turn into an obsession. So be warned – ‘Last Tango’ can be the sort of film you fall in love with!  

Bertolucci directing Brando and Schneider.

Marlon Brando was one of the actors I admire the most in the history of cinema, and therefore it shouldn’t be surprising that his performance here is among one of my favourite, alongside with ‘Godfather’. One cannot stop falling in love with Brando’s talent, if you really love cinema, because his style was just so unique. Brando could be considered as one of the key actors who involved in method acting. The way he mumbled through his lines, and his monologues, especially in his films from the 1970s, offered a hypnotic effect. I can say I have fallen in love with Brando’s monologues – I just want to hear him talking on and on and on.

Bertolucci and Storaro's painterly composition.



While ‘Last Tango in Paris’ has won a lot of awards, it was an extremely controversial film even in its era, which was a time when filmmakers were willing to explore all sorts of ideas and style. The NC-17 film is sexually explicit, and it has unfortunately courted courtesy last year because of the infamous butter scene that implied an anal rape. As there are so many contradictory versions of the story, and also two of the protagonists – Brando and Schneider – have already passed away, there is thus no way to have a fair assessment of what was really going on. What can be established is that there has been some horrible misunderstanding between the filmmaker and the actors, and Schneider did not quite see what was coming for her character. Thus, what the audience watched on the screen was her genuine distress, and I think it would make the audience feel unsettled if they were aware of that fact. Maybe Bertolucci wanted to push for a more authentic performance here, but he probably would be better off if he explained clearly to the actors given the controversial nature of the sequence. So, it is fair to say everyone had some responsibility here, because they should all ask for clarifications if things might go wrong, and this should serve as a cautionary tale for later filmmakers.   

Light, shadow, body, psyche.



Is ‘Last Tango in Paris’ pornographic, as some detractors may suggest? I disagree. It is fair to say the film has a strong sexual element, yet the intention is not to make the audience feel ‘dirty’ about sex. If Bertolucci’s intention was to make ‘Last Tango’ a pornographic film, then he would have failed miserably, because it was clearly not his intention (and he would also not need all the efforts to write all those beautiful dialogues and figure out the painterly compositions). The audience will not feel horny or sensationalized by sex from this NC-17 film, rather, they will likely feel emotional and garner sympathy to the two major characters. To me, ‘Last Tango in Paris’ is not merely about sex. It is about relationships. It is about feelings. It is about how things can go horribly wrong if you do not understand others, or have a wrong expectation from others due to the lack of a proper and sincere communication. The tragic consequence of the film is due to character flaws and the failure to express feelings that can strengthen relationships. Sex, after all, is merely a vehicle to tell the story and express the theme.


Paul and Jeanne's brief encounter in the streets of Paris.

After watching 2 paintings by the 20th century artist Francis Bacon, Bertolucci invited us to the story of Paul (Marlon Brando) and Jeanne (Maria Schneider). Paul was a middle-age American who was mourning over her wife’s recent suicide. Wandering aimlessly around the streets of Paris, he first encountered Jeanne, a young French girl. Fate had it (or Bertolucci playing God?!) that the two met again when they both wanted to let an apartment. Out of impulse they first made love there. Since then, they established a relationship based on sex and love-making, yet there was a rule not to be broken – it had to be anonymous, and they could not tell each other their names and their outside lives. In fact, Jeanne had a boyfriend in her normal life, meaning that she was sort of living a diurnal existence here. While Paul was struggling to make sense of his life and regrets, Jeanne had second thoughts and confusions about her relationship with Paul. Is the relationship worth sustaining, and what would eventually come out of that in the end?

The inevitable union of 2 tortured souls?


 

Now you owe me Bacon

 

While ‘Last Tango in Paris’ was a psychologically- and emotionally-rich film, it also had an unique style, which was brilliantly devised by Bertolucci and the director of photography, Vittorio Storaro. While I feel that the Bertolucci-Storaro style is more obvious in another film, ‘The Conformist’, which I will talk about soon, there are still some aspects in ‘Last Tango’ that is worth looking at.  
Bertolucci has cited the influence of Francis Bacon to the style in ‘Last Tango in Paris’, as far as asking Brando and Storaro and others to observe Bacon’s paintings and tried to imitate the style from them. Bacon had a unique style to his painting, and one could feel that his painitings on human characters were often very abstract, rather than relying on the foundation of realism. In the opening titles of the film, Bertolucci showed 2 paintings from Bacon, one male and one female. Not only the grotesque effect was evident, the paintings also showed ambivalence. While the characters in the painting appeared to be in relaxing position, their facial expressions were distorted and ambiguous, far from suggesting they were enjoying themselves. It thus appeared if they were ‘placed’ into such a position deliberately rather than following their natural composure and feeling comfortable. Indeed, Bertolucci advised Brando to imitate the gesture and composure from these Bacon paintings (you can say it as a sort of method acting), and Brando has committed to this approach and has all sort of different composures in the interior scenes. In the final moment of the opening credits, Bertolucci deliberately placed the 2 paintings aside once more, as if to symbolize the inevitable cross of path of the male (Paul) and female (Jeanne). Call it fate or whatever, that was when the two tortured and confused souls finally encountered each other amidst the streets of Paris.



Brando, a phone, and a lamp - then we have a performance.

When one watches a film by Bertolucci, the significant contributions from Vittorio Storaro, who is Bertolucci’s long-term collaborator on cinematography. Though I will talk in detail about Storaro’s general style in the article for ‘The Conformist’, I will pick up a few points which are relevant to ‘Last Tango’ here. Drawing inspirations from Bacon, many scenes in the film had a painterly feel, and to be sure, if one pauses the film every now and then, the shot may appear as if they are paintings from an artist. The beautiful compositions, the brown hues, with the balanced and often stylized use of light and shadow, Bertolucci and Storaro created images as if they were painting on celluloid. It was quite clear that there was a contrasting atmosphere when one compared the scenes outside the apartment (i.e. Jeanne’s normal life), and those inside the apartment (i.e. Jeanne and Paul). While the outdoor scenes were naturalistic, the indoor scenes were painterly and stylized in terms of lighting and composition. In many of those scenes you can almost always see light mingling around with shadow! I am not sure if an analogy to Freud’s ideas are totally relevant here, yet I feel that the intimate scenes inside the apartment are very similar to the unconscious side of our minds, and the place is where the more carnal desires lurk around. While the indoor scenes can be seen as limited, often only involving Paul and Jeanne, they are among the most atmospheric and emotional moments of this film, and Bertolucci’s mastery for the story should be recognized. I remember reading a negative review of Bertolucci’s flawed classic ‘1900’ from Roger Ebert, and in there Ebert pointed out that Bertolucci’s greatest moment was when he was directing 2 characters in a room. I think at least Ebert could appreciate the strength of Bertolucci’s work (also think about the ‘Plato’ scene in ‘The Conformist’). To sustain the fascination and attention from the audience in such a minimalist mise-en-scene requires a lot of talent and creativity from the filmmaker. Bertolucci should be proud of that!

(1/2)

Film Analysis




Friday, 20 April 2018

The Trial





I have always been fascinated by the writer Franz Kafka. Through the absurd situations his characters found themselves in, Kafka explored the human conditions and the possible search for the meaning of life. Orson Welles, who has adapted a number of literary sources to his films, have adapted Kafka’s ‘The Trial’, which is the topic of this article. The film starred Anthony Perkins, who has famously portrayed Norman Bates in Hitchcock’s ‘Psycho’, as Josef K. 


Welles has been faithful to the original story, and has not added much in terms of plot in his film. What he has instilled, though, was an original visual style that not only enhanced the narrative impact of the story, and that also made his film a unique spectacle of its own.  


Most of the Wellesian mise-en-scenes were evident in ‘The Trial’. The Wellesian deep focus emphasized the power struggle of all the players in the existentialist fable. Welles deliberately staged the composition in depth, so that a repetitive and regimented pattern could be observed by the audience, signifying the bureaucratic nature of the society Josef K. found himself in. Since the 1950s, Welles’s visual style has become more complex, and the high contrast black and white also enhanced the dream-like and disorienting impression which could be easily felt by the viewers. The complex spatial aspects in his films, as in ‘Touch of Evil’, ‘The Trial’, and ‘Chimes At Midnight’, appeared like a cinematic labyrinth, and the protagonists were often stranded in the maze-like structure. Their entrapments were not merely physical, but also metaphorical – they were confused and misled by the deceptions, conspiracies, and paranoia that originated from self-interested individuals or institutions, and the story testified their humanistic struggles against these forces, even if the chance of escaping unscathed was slim.


A nice example was the sequence when Josef K. attempted to escape from a maze-like structure. Through a fantastic use of the tracking shot, where similar approach was also found in ‘Touch of Evil’, Welles captured the panic and anxiety when Josef K. was exploring the absurd labyrinth he fell into. The dynamic long take showed his weariness regarding the situation, and the audience could be easily identified with Josef K.’s futile attempt to run away from this bureaucratic environment. While the outlook might appear bleak to many, Welles at least celebrate our underdog hero, by showing his courage to shoot back on a system that was unsympathetic to any human freedom and potential.


Orson Welles’s ‘The Trial’ is a relatively unknown work from the great filmmaker, yet it is a brilliant one. It should be of interest to anyone who likes visually driven films.

Film Analysis



Friday, 13 April 2018

Day of Wrath





After talking about Bergman’s ‘The Silence’ last week, I am talking about a film with a similar theme regarding spirituality this time – Carl Theodor Dreyer’s ‘Day of Wrath’, which was made during the Second World War.


The story took place in the 17th century, at a time when witches existed and witch hunting was an important act for normalizing the beliefs of people. The story was divided into 2 parts, and they paralleled each other as similarities could be observed. The protagonist was a young woman called Anne, who married Absalom due to obligation. Absalom was a pastor who served as a judge for the prosecution of witches. An old woman, Marthe, was insinuated as a witch, and she was hiding from the church officials. What connected the two women was that Absalom was actually one of the judges responsible for Marthe’s condemnation. Before Marthe was captured and eventually burnt at stake, she chanced upon Anne and told her a startling truth - Anne’s long dead mother was actually a witch. This revelation fascinated Anne, and yet jeopardized her because she would be seen as a descendent of a witch, and would likely face condemnation when the appropriate reason came to her. On the other hand, Anne could not find happiness with her marriage to Absalom, and she found out that she loved Martin, Absalom’s son instead. When Anne was increasingly consumed by paranoia and suspicions, what would eventually come out of these characters?


Day of Wrath was a film very representative of Dreyer’s style because it illustrated a tug-of-war between his two predominant styles – the spiritual and the psychological. Dreyer has always expressed the transcendental aspect of the human condition in his films, most notably in ‘Ordet’ and ‘The Passion of Joan of Arc’. Yet, he was just as inspired by Expressionism, and the resulting psychological edginess could be in particular detected from ‘Vampyr’ and this film.


For the first half of the story, when Marthe was condemned as a witch, the plot paralleled ‘The Passion of Joan of Arc’. It has been pointed out that Dreyer did not make any moral judgment on Marthe, unlike the characters in the film whom definitely saw witchcraft as something evil. I think this amoral stance is important for the film because Dreyer was questioning either there was a clear boundary between the spiritual / psychological or the morality debates.


The tones between the two parts were different. In the first half, the viewer could easily conclude that witches did exist. Yet, the second part’s concern was naturalistic. Anne’s paranoia had no supernatural elements, and the origins were totally psychological – jealousy, insecurity, and mental pressure. In a sense Anne had to hide from her true feelings – because the person who she really cared and loved was Absalom’s son , Martin, hence those intimate excursions in the green fields. Of course, the time of intimacy was tragically brief. The pressure also arose from her duty of marrying Absalom and the appreciation that she might be connected to witchcraft, given that she was living in such a non-secular era – meaning that there would not be a runaway explanation for involvement in witchcraft and the activities would not be tolerated.   


Whether Anne could be considered as a genuine witch was meant to be ambiguous. Marthe did inform Anne that her own mother was a witch, and that seemed to be the only connection between Anne and witchcraft. What was ironic was that Anne’s nasty wish for Absalom’s demise did eventually materialize, and that might suggest she did possess the gift of some black magic. Critics did point out that the apparent miracle (albeit a nasty one) was more an expression of Anne’s delusion, and that made sense because the philosophy behind Expressionism was often to externalize the psychotic feelings in one’s mind into the mise-en-scene, hence the edgy composition and setting. Indeed, Dreyer made Anne appear witch-like by using very high contrast lighting, and staged her as catatonic in certain scenes. When she creepily looked out of a window to witness Marthe’s death, it sounded as if a foreshadowing was taking place - soon it would be her turn to be condemned as a witch.


The final condemnation of Anne could also be interpreted in a social context, though Dreyer had no intention of making a political statement or making allegories on Nazism and the Second World War The story took place at an age which was ruled by totalitarian power, and the need for scapegoating was an aspect that defined such a political system, which relied on a black-and-white logic to govern the people. When Absalom died, someone had to be held responsible for that. Therefore a witch hunt has taken place, and irrational judgments have been passed onto Anne to deem her guilty. The scenario has bore similarities to the totalitarian powers and racial hatred around the time of Second World War. While the story was medieval, it was ironic that a modern blend of witch hunting appeared only a decade after ‘Day of Wrath’ was first shown – the House Un-American Activities Committee and McCarthyism in the 1950s. Critics since then appreciated the relevance of the film to the modern world – when paranoia and prejudice joined forces, only the innocent ones would be victimized.


Film Analysis





Friday, 6 April 2018

The Silence



This time, I will talk about Ingmar Bergman’s film ‘The Silence’. This 1963 film is often grouped as a trilogy with 2 other films from Bergman, ‘Through a Glass Darkly’ and ‘Winter Light’. I have written an article about ‘Through a Glass Darkly’ before.

Bergman has stated that the three films of his shared a common theme on spirituality, and he felt that the ‘silence’ in the title represented ‘God’s silence’, which, of course, is a belief many people share in a secular world. While Bergman has often been critical of the orthodox and ritualistic aspect of religion, he did maintain that a spiritual quest for inner truth and faith was important for humanity.

The surface plot concerned a pair of sisters, Ester and Anna, and accompanied by Johan, Anna’s son. It was evident that the pair did not get along, and of stark contrast in terms of character – Anna was the more sensual and active on, while Ester was the more intellectual and distant one. Things got worse because Ester was also suffering from illness, and the trio found themselves in an alien place – a fictional central European country (Bergman went as far to invent the country’s language to make it sound alienating), when it served as a mid point for their train journey to home. It was also clear that the country was going to have war pretty soon. Internal turmoil coupled with external threat, that represented the ‘perfect storm’ situation for a film. What would be the outcome for the trio in such an untimely scenario? Of course, as in any Bergman’s film, like ‘Persona’, what I have just described was only the apparent storyline. If one looks at the story differently, he/she may find a completely different meaning. 

Bergman has been heavily influenced by the chamber plays of August Strindberg and he has contributed by extending this idea into his films, most notably in the spiritual trilogy and ‘Persona’. Bergman followed music laws, rather than dramatic ones, in these films, and as a result he established a cinematic rhythm, very unique and different from the norm – the prevalence of narrative films around the world.

Chamber plays give an intimate sense of feelings for the audience. There are a number of characteristics for this type of style, which is also common in theater. Chamber plays tend to show a sparseness of characters and settings. The number of characters is minimal, and so is the setting. That is done so that the actors can focus on their intimate aspects rather than, say, the detailed set. The actors give naturalistic acting, most notably, they can turn their back on audience, to give a ‘realistic’ rather than a mannerist acting style, and that prevents the audience impression that the play is being ‘staged’.

Many critics and filmmakers do believe that the meaning of ‘The Silence’ is not as obvious as the plot may appear, and certainly such an interpretation has also been made to ‘Persona’ and some of Bergman’s other films. A common interpretation about the film is that Ester and Anna actually represented 2 conflicting dimensions of humanity, as illustrated by their respective character. Thus, the film portrayed an eternal struggle between spiritual realm (Ester) and physical realm (Anna), for which this struggle is something we are all aware of throughout our lives.

I would like to divert your focus onto the child. Johan was portrayed positively in the film. He represented a hope for humanity – with his inquisitiveness, sense of wonder around his world – even if it was devoid of objective meanings and haunted by the fact that ‘God is silent’. He was the embodiment of potential, both in an aesthetic and developmental manner.   

The great thing about Bergman’s approach was that, while he showed the positive attributes of Johan when he interacted with his world, Bergman did not insulate him from the hidden darkness inherent in humanity. When Johan interacted with the kind-hearted waiter in a non-verbal manner – because they did not show each other’s language - the waiter did not forget to demonstrate him the ‘sausage’ show. When he interacted with the apparently funny all-male dwarf troop, one of them went as far to put Johan in a dress and kissed him. Johan might not be intellectually ready to understand the implications behind these scenarios, yet no one could make him immune to the nasty things of the adult world, just because he was a child. Johan had to experience the tanks, the aircrafts, the embodiments of war in Bergman’s bleak landscape, no matter how mysterious that might first seem to his nascent mind.

Nevertheless, a very powerful act by Johan was that when Ester believed that she was beyond all points of revival, she covered herself with a sheet on the bed to serve as a gesture of her ‘death’. Johan, walking by, proceeded to lift up her sheet and exposed her again. Though it was just a simple gesture, it took a very spiritual dimension, as if Bergman was offering a sort of hope in a rather hopeless situation portrayed in the film. The child might show innocence, yet he did possess an inherent sense of compassion when facing the demons of degradation.

I can also think of a further meaning of the film’s title. Because Bergman has portrayed a world that had a lot of ambiguities and uncertainties, and the silence of God meant that there were no ways to strive an impartial viewpoint in all of these. A silence of the inaccessible truth. After all, contradictions have to co-exist in our world – that is the aspect that makes us human.

Film Analysis