The Seventh Seal (1957)

“Perhaps there isn’t anyone?”

“Then life is a meaningless horror!”

I must admit I’ve been taking refuge in more light-hearted films, usually Hammer or Universal horror, or sci-fi, etc, up to now. I’ve been a little afraid to tackle the many films in my DVD collection which tend to be more gushed over by critics; would my reviews pass muster? Would I fail to mention something which is generally considered to belong to the category of the bleeding obvious? Well, I’ve finally bitten the bullet with this film and, if anything, it’s actually easier to write about as the themes are handed to you on a plate.

This is essentially a fairly straightforward and transparent meditation on existentialism, pretty much wearing its themes on its metaphorical sleeves and covering much the same ground as loads of stuff by people like Sartre and Camus. God is dead, life is therefore meaningless, it’s up to us to assign meaning, we are therefore terrifyingly free to make all sorts of stupid decisions, yadda yadda yadda. This sort of thing was everywhere in the ‘50s.

It’s the squire, Jöns, who is the voice for this philosophy, and he spends much of the film trying to push it on to the other characters. I’m not sure we’re quite supposed to approve of him, however; he’s quite pointedly amoral. There’s a particularly unpleasant moment where he casually declines to rape the mute girl, having just forcibly kissed her, because it’s “dry in the long run.” This is a rather nasty pun, and hints that he has done otherwise in the past. His misogyny pops up everywhere, too.

The knight, Antonius Block, is a thoroughly decent chap, played superbly by Max Von Sydow, but paralysed by existential angst in its purest form. He spends the entire film with the certain knowledge of imminent death and wrestling with his lack of faith versus his desire to believe in a God. He soliloquises a lot. But he finds a brief moment of happiness in a simple picnic with Jof, Mia and their baby son. They are simple, poor, but happy people who love each other without complications and, of course, they end up being the only survivors. The ending would have been a bit of a downer otherwise. But then, they are the only characters who truly represent Life, as we shall discuss.

Block and Jöns have wasted the last ten years in a pointless crusade and are now returning home, like Odysseus, although I’m not sure that comparisons to the Odyssey would really hold up. But death, in the form of plague, stalks the land. And the Black Death, in Scandinavia and the British Isles in particular, was truly genocidal, killing perhaps 50% of the population, although perhaps we should be wary of taking the historical setting too literally. Existentialist thought was not widespread in the 1350s.

The film contrasts death with life throughout. Death predominates; the early scene in the tavern makes it clear that people do not expect to live and that many believe they are living in the End Times, hence the prominence of quotes from the Book of Revelation. This morbidity reaches a disgusting peak with the arrival of the flagellants, with their gloatingly sadistic leader, who are met with reverence by the kneeling townsfolk. This contrasts sharply with the sneering attitude towards the actors, and their lovely, witty, bawdy song. The contrast makes it clear that Jof and Mia, fertile and happy in spite of life’s travails, represent Life, which for some reason I am writing in capitals They’re lovely, aren’t they? But it’s because of Block, if indirectly, that they are saved. He does in fact achieve something with the extra time he’s given.

The most upsetting part of the film is the treatment of the “witch”, so very young, who is burned to death, and what seems even worse is the fact that her final hours are spent in the stocks, surrounded by people who hate her. Block is able to ease her suffering at the end, which has definite echoes of Christ being offered a drink at the Crucifixion.

Oh yes, and I suppose I’d better mention the chess game between Block and Death, one of the most iconic things in the history of ever. Obviously, it’s pretty much compulsory to mention Wayne’s World 2 here, but I’m sure I’ve seen some stuff from popular culture which references Death chopping down that tree. Anybody know where it might have been from? And the ending, with Death interrupting breakfast just minutes after Block has been reunited with his lovely wife, has got to be an inspiration for Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life.

That was fairly painless. I’ll be a bit less afraid to tackle such critically adored films in future.