SMILES OF A SUMMER NIGHT (Sommarnattens
leende)
A
Sweden (108 mi) 1955 d: Ingmar Bergman
After a series of financial failures, where Sawdust
and Tinsel (Gycklarnas afton) (1953) was a box-office catastrophe, Bergman
created one of the finest romantic comedies ever filmed, erotic and lyrical,
uncommonly wise and beautiful, all the more remarkable as it was written during
one of Bergman’s darkest depressions, not only undergoing financial
difficulties, but he lost weight (reduced to 125 pounds), suffered stomach
pains, while his romance with actress Harriet Andersson was coming to an end
(taking up instead with his new love, actress Bibi Andersson). Without
his knowledge, the film was entered into the Cannes Film Festival where it
received rave reviews and a Jury prize as Best Poetic Humor in 1956, becoming
the first Bergman film (his 15th overall) to win international acclaim.
The director discovered this purely by chance while reading the newspaper, but
the film changed his fortunes forever, making Svensk Filmindustri lots of money,
as the production company gave him free reign to do whatever he pleased for the
rest of his career, even stimulating an interest in distributing Bergman films
in the U.S. specifically an exclusive deal with Janus films (which would
eventually become Criterion films) which also distributed Fellini and Kurosawa
films as well. In October 1959, as many as 5 Bergman films were playing
simultaneously in various New York City arthouses, while in early 1960 Bergman
made the cover of Time magazine, the
first foreign filmmaker to do so since Leni Riefenstahl in 1936. A
sophisticated European comedy of manners, a masquerade of convention with
mismatched lovers, a sex farce, battle of the sexes, and brilliant character
study, Bergman delves into the lives of an economically successful upper crust
social class, only to discover cracks in the fault lines, where presumed
happiness is only a façade, yet this merry crew are surprisingly upbeat as they
undergo a series of personal challenges, veering headfirst into the arena of sexual
politics, speaking more candidly and perceptively about relationships than his
other films laced with brooding melancholy and an acrid bitterness, becoming an
elaborate partner-swapping bedroom farce as a summer of love and good fortune
brings new erotic opportunities, given a delicious Shakespearean Midsummer Night’s Dream twist, as if all
have been subject to drinking a love potion. Filled with sharp satire and
flirtatious innuendo, this delightful film is one for the ages, legendary for
its razor sharp wit and comic timing, mostly taking place at a Renoir-style
weekend in the country, an exaggerated romp exposing pretensions and
insecurities along the way (Who knew humiliation could be this much fun?),
filled with a classical style of unrestrained beauty and poetic
eloquence. The fact that this mirrors Bergman’s own life makes it that
much more insightful, married five times, yet a serial adulterer, never one to
hide his scandalously public relationships with several of the actresses in his
films. The writing is exceptional, finding Bergman literally bursting
with ideas, inspiring tribute works, including Stephen Sondheim’s magnificent
musical, A Little Night Music, winning
the Tony Award for best musical, best book, and best score, and Woody Allen’s
hilarious love fantasy A
Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy (1982).
Set in turn-of-the-century Sweden with legendary actress
Desirée Armfeldt (Eva Dahlbeck), anxious about her advancing years, inviting
her former lover Fredrik Egerman (Gunnar Bjornstrand) and his 30-years younger
virginal wife Anne (Ulla Jacobsson), a still unconsummated marriage after
several years, along with his son (of the same age) Henrik (Björn Bjelfvenstam)
studying for the priesthood, remaining virtuous yet inflamed by his growing
desires, torn between carnal lust and his devotion to God, literally a walking
contradiction, also inviting her current lover, Count Carl-Magnus Malcolm (Jarl
Kulle), basically a married man looking gallant in a uniform, and his present
wife, Countess Charlotte (Margit Carlquist), looking to avenge her husband’s
indiscretions, to her mother’s picture perfect country estate for some fun in
the sun, bringing along the hired servants, including the sultry maid Petra,
Harriet Andersson, in one of her sexiest performances on film. As it
happens, the film is Bergman’s farewell to Eva Dahlbeck and Harriet Andersson,
and though Andersson would reappear in later films, it would be in a distinctly
different role, no longer the sexy young beauty from Summer
with Monika (Sommaren med Monika) (1953), taking on mature roles,
demonstrating more of a dramatic reach. Moving away from his exploration
of women, Bergman would make a series of films dominated by anguished men
tormented by religious doubt and spiritual uncertainty, never really developing
Bibi Andersson’s potential until much later. Shot by Gunnar Fischer, with
luminous images of a quaint country estate, placid rivers with swans, and
flowering gardens, coupled with elegant costumes and décor, this film
accentuates the seductive splendor surrounding the Swedish midsummer, where it
could possibly affect destinies in strange and mysterious ways, becoming a
morality play pitting together scheming wives and mistresses who resort to
devious methods to reclaim the men in their lives who have gone astray.
Fredrik, in particular, is seen at the outset as living an idyllic life with a
beautiful young bride, yet love remains an illusion, as she’s more of a
youthful showpiece than an actual wife, having little say in their marriage,
where he makes all the decisions, and while declaring his unending love, it’s
an empty and meaningless gesture. No one knows that more than Henrik, his
exasperated son, who is brilliant as a student, thoughtful and well-read, but
completely innocent to the ways of the world, regularly flirting with Petra,
who seems to be schooling him, but keeps him at arm’s length, resorting to a
quick slap in the face from time to time, but also enticing him with her
sensual charms. None of this escapes Fredrik, who finds it all amusing,
suggesting Petra is well-deserving of a raise. This only inflames the ire
of Henrik, as his father doesn’t take him seriously, constantly reminded of his
youthful innocence, despite expressing complex philosophical ideas. His
mind, however, is stuck in the testosterone-raging body of an adolescent child,
feeling imprisoned by his naïveté.
When Fredrik obtains theater tickets for the traveling
theater troupe, it reignites desirous thoughts of Desirée, who broke up with
him years ago, but she was once the love of his life. This quickly
becomes apparent to Anne, who finds the salacious stage material too close to
home, feigning illness, requiring a quick exit from the theater. After
putting her to bed, Fredrik sneaks back out to the theater, greeting Desirée at
her final curtain call, where she eagerly grabs him and invites him
backstage. Both the same age, their easy rapport with one another is
apparent, as she openly mocks him, bosses him around, yet also smothers him
with affection, amusingly taking a bath in front of him, reminding him what
he’s missing, before taking an evening stroll together with a glass of
wine. But their evening soirée is hilariously interrupted by her handsome
young lover, Carl-Magnus, an army officer who pretentiously views everything in
purely militaristic terms, with one party dominating another, winners or
losers, overdramatizing his bitter jealousy felt towards any man who dares
interfere in his sexual affairs, though the cigar-smoking Desirée (who shows
uncanny awareness) is overly amused at this highly charged spectacle, believing
something good can come from it. Losing all interest in the Count, she
quickly changes her focus, asking her elderly mother to host a formal weekend
gathering at her luxurious estate (given to her to stay quiet and never reveal
her precious secrets in a tell-all memoir), bringing together the offended
parties, hoping for spectacular fireworks. Furious at her husband’s open
display of infidelity, the proud Countess (whose contempt for men is priceless)
pays a visit to young Anne, hoping to embarrass her about her husband’s late
night prowl, but she takes it all in stride, pretending she knows all about it,
though it infuriates her as well, as social manner is always about saving
face. This is exactly the kind of behavior that upsets Henrik at the
weekend dinner table with all the invited guests, refusing to hear any more of
this cynical conversation, where meaning is shrouded by polite manner meant to
disguise the barbs and arrows of sarcastic assertions. While he runs away
in a dejected state, actually contemplating suicide, the fates are with him,
along with a special potion of wine served at dinner, as miraculously, the push
of a specially-engineered knob causes a wall to raise allowing a bed from the
room next door to enter his bedroom chambers (to the accompaniment of music-box
chimes), and lying upon it is Anne fast asleep, which intoxicates his soul,
awakening her with a kiss, immediately declaring his love, with the two
lovebirds running off, together at last, in a state of ecstasy, setting the
stage for more to follow. To preserve his honor, the Count challenges
Egerman to a game of Russian roulette over a bottle of aged brandy, though
pulls a prank instead, thoroughly humiliating his rival in love, and Egerman is
such a stuffed shirt that audiences love to see him take the fall, with the
comforting Desirée at his side to “soften the landing.” The Count goes
back to his Countess, where he will invariably stray once again, believing it’s
a rite of conquest (unable to fathom the emptiness this behavior brings), and
even Petra takes solace in the arms of Frid (Åke Fridell), her male counterpart
coachman, as both spend a night romping in the haystacks, magically
transformed, suffering the same fate as “the clowns, the fools, and the
unredeemable,” where by morning she compels him, in her own assertive way, to
take the marital vows, all in good fun, with the sun rising over the summer
night, where this is one of cinema’s great erotic comedies, one of Bergman’s
most perfect films, and easily the sunniest work he ever
created.
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