An elderly Swedish professor travels across the country with his
daughter-in-law to receive an honorary doctorate for his years of service to
Bacteriology. On the way, encounters with people and places trigger memories of
his past which both inform and interact with the present.
Despite the threat of boredom this scenario offers to the casual viewer,
Wild Strawberries is a deeply affecting film which touches on any human
soul. It begins with the fear of death and ends with an affirmation of life. It
is a uniquely exhilarating journey not only through the labyrinths of the mind,
but through the cinema as a medium of its exploration.
Centred on a superlative performance from then 78 year old Victor Sjöström,
the film is peopled with resonant characters and situations, which though
particular to the moment nonetheless speak to anyone who has ever thought about
their lives and the experiences which have made them what they are.
Bergman combines nostalgic and tragic scenes from the past with scenes from
the present, often using the same actors to play different parts in the
different time periods. Sometimes the present characters enter the scenes from
the past and discuss them in a theatrical exploration of the subjectivity of
experience. The result is a particularly effective meditation on the nature and
purpose of human memory.
Wild Strawberries was Bergman's third major critical hit in two years,
following the massive success of Smiles of a Summer Night (1955) and The Seventh Seal (1957). Both
films won international plaudits, and the release of Wild Strawberries
was greeted with sycophantic enthusiasm by the world cinema community. But one
unfortunate result was the elitist elevation of the director's work to the
realms of a cinematic pantheon in which he would remain entombed, enshrined and
unreachable forever.
This premature deadening of a great cineaste's ability to touch his
audience gave rise to an unfortunate obsession with emulating the pace and
perceived obscurity of Bergman's mise en sc¨¨ne among other European
directors.
But taken within its own frames of reference, Wild Strawberries
represents Bergman at his best. Its great power is in its simplicity. It has a
very clear and stated purpose, established from the opening scene, to examine
and challenge an old man's assumptions about himself and his life. All that
follows fits perfectly within that framework, and while it engages most of
Bergman's characteristic themes and concerns, it is firmly anchored by
Sjöström's completely understandable performance.
Sjöström himself was one of Swedish cinema's great masters. His work as a
director included The Phantom Carriage (1921) and The Wind (1928);
the latter an American film with Lilian Gish. His collaboration with Bergman on
this project had more resonance for both men than a simple actor/director
relationship. Bergman was entirely conscious of Sjöström's influence upon his
own career, and his exploration of the life and world of an older man clearly
reflected his hopes and fears for his own later life. Sjöström, for his part,
plays the role with the quiet reflection of a man living his character, and his
performance ranks as one of the cinema's great portraits of old age.
No less effective are the supporting cast of familiar Bergman regulars.
Ingrid Thulin would later feature prominently in Bergman's 'faith' trilogy of
the 1960s, Bibi Andersson had moved from stage to screen with Smiles of a
Summer Night, Gunnar Björnstrand and Max Von Sydow were both fresh from
The Seventh Seal (the
latter actor appearing here in a tiny role albeit).
But though clearly a product of a particular time and place and a particular
combination of talents, fittingly, given its pointed concern with memory and
aging, Wild Strawberries has that elusive quality of timelessness which
identifies a great work of cinema.
From indigo.ie
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