"The hopeless dream of being. Not seeming, but being...."
This is a glorious mind**** of a film, shockingly only the second example of the oevre of the esteemed Mr Bergman that I've blogged. We begin- and punctuate the film- with random, surreal imagery, freminisscent in spirit of Un Chien Andalou, something which must surely be intentional. At one point a nail is hammered into the fleshy part of a palm. Lovely. Not only is this as icky as it gets, but it's a blatant allusion to Christ, which is brave territory: comparing characters to Christ is the definkition of uber-pretentious.
This is, lof course, nothing of the sort: the surreal imagery is surreal imagery. The beautifuly arty direction is beautifully artbdirection- and this film really is superbly shot.
Yet the film is, sort of, a straight drama.Elisabet Vogler is an actress, successful enough to play Electra. Yet she suddenly deases to speak or act, ending up in a mental insyitution. Alma looks after her. That really is it.
SPOILERS
Yet the script, the character, the acting, the everything is sublime, terrifyingly so. The two women are intimate, at once close and antagonistic. Complex gamesof friendship, power, love and betrayal play out. Yet, beneath it all lies a socially unacceptable hatred of motherhood, a fear of childbearing and childred upon which a person with a y chromosome should probably not comment. All I can say is that this film is awesome.
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