The Ingmar Bergman Collection
(MGM Region 1 Boxed Set)
review by Head Cheeze

Back in college, I actually got credits for sitting around and watching movies. We'd watch "important" films from various eras, countries, and directors, jot down our thoughts, and get a passing grade, regardless of what we did or said. The only way you could fail that class was by not showing up for it. Sadly, Math and Spanish weren't as forgiving.

That film class did a lot more than inflate my grade point average; it introduced me to a wide variety of filmmakers whose works I may have never experienced otherwise. Amongst the more obvious choices, such as the Kubricks, Coppolas, and Hitchcocks, we were shown films by Akira Kurosawa, Wim Wenders, Pedro Almodovar, and, of course, Ingmar Bergman.

Up to that point, my knowledge of Bergman was limited to the parody of his "Death" from The Seventh Seal playing chess with Bill and Ted in their "Bogus Journey", so one can imagine that I stifled a few chuckles upon viewing the real thing! Of course, the glee was short-lived, as Bergman's films are anything if not deadly serious. Years later, I recieved a press release for the Ingmar Bergman Collection boxed set from MGM, and jumped at the chance to review it. One of my favourite films (not only of Bergman's, but of all time), Hour of the Wolf (Vargtimmen), was finally being released on DVD, alongside the brilliant Persona, and three Bergman films I'd not yet seen! This was a set that excited me to no end, and when it arrived, I immediately plunged myself into a weekend's worth of deep and disturbing human exploration!!

I began with Hour of the Wolf, of course, simply because I remember that film knocking my socks off years ago, and hadn't seen it since! I wasn't dissapointed, as the film is an emotional powerhouse, featuring a truly stellar performance by Max Von Sydow as Johan, an artist on the mend from an emotional breakdown. He and his young wife Alma(Ullman, who was a fixture in Bergman's later works, as well as his longtime companion) retreat to a desolate island so that Johan can recover both his sanity and his inner muse. However, he is soon visited by an eccentric group of denizens from the island that may or may not be manifestations of his madness. When Alma begins to share in her husband's psychosis, she realises that her role as Johan's anchor to this world is in jeopardy, and must fight to maintain her own sanity, even if she risks losing Johan forever.

Hour of the Wolf is a deeply disturbing drama, and, in my opinion, Bergman's finest film. It's a quiet and compelling meditation on the strains of mental illness on those around the victim, and, perhaps, one of the most accurate depictions of madness ever put to film.

I followed Hour of the Wolf with the inferior The Serpent's Egg (Das Schlangenei) which focuses on the life of an American circus performer (David Carradine) living in Berlin post World War I. While it's intended to be a study of the human condition as tested by the harsh socioeconomic climate of a post-war world, it's instead a dull, plodding, and heavy handed film. There are some fine performances, strong visual moments, and the opening sequence hints at great things to come, but, sadly, they never really do.

Persona is widely recognised as one of Bergman's finest films, and I have to agree. The story of a mute actress (Ullman) in the care of a young nurse (Anderson) is a sexually charged tale of dependence, love, and isolation. Ullman's Elisabeth Vogler and Anderson's Alma share a quiet bond that grows to an unhealthy level of dependence, and, as the viewer, we are given glimpses into their relationship that heighten our own sense of isolation. Bergman's skill of audience manipulation is strongly realised here, and that's why fans of his work often recommend this film as a good starting point for those who want to explore his work.

Isolation is a common theme in Bergman's work, and is once again revisited in The Passion of Anna (En Passion). Here, however, individual isolation serves as the impetus for a relationship between two people desperately trying to escape themselves. Von Sydow and Ullman once again star as Andreas and Anna, a man dealing with a failed marriage, and a woman grieving the loss of her husband and son. The two meet through mutual friends, and are drawn to each other by their mutual despair. Anna is as dark as any Bergman film, but is also strangely hopeful.

Shame (Skammen) is one of Bergman's bleakest films. It deals with a couple (once again, Von Sydow and Ullman. You see a pattern here??) who suddenly find themselves in the midst of a civil war on their tiny island home. Their house is occupied by a soldier who, at first, questions their loyaties (as do we). We are shown how this war (which is completely non-descript, making it something of a "timeless" tale) exposes weaknesses in the couple's relationships and character, but, strangely, especially for a Bergman film, the characters take a backseat to the war itself. I'd be lying if I said that Shame was an easy film to watch, simply because it's really quite painful to see what these people go through, but it is fascinating nonetheless.

As if four great films (and one mediocre one) weren't enough, each disc features commentary tracks, featurettes, and more. There is also a sixth disc which includes interviews with the elusive Bergman, a nice documentary about cinematographer/collaborator Sven Nyvist, a look at Faro Island (Bergman's home, and home to all of his later films) and more. It's a fantastic boxed set that's more than worth the price for fans of cinema.