Ingrid Bergman Tribute: Only One Night (En enda natt)

 

Director Gustaf Molander

Ingrid Bergman as a child with her father

1937 wedding day with Petter Lindström 

Ingrid Bergman in costume

Bergman in 1939

Ingrid Berman Tribute: ONLY ONE NIGHT (En enda natt)                       C+                 Sweden  (90 mi)  1939  d: Gustaf Molander

A rarely seen film, among the earliest appearances of Ingrid Bergman, but she was already a star in Sweden, voted by a poll of 30,000 Swedish moviegoers as the most admired movie star in 1937, even above Greta Garbo, appreciated for her beauty and grace, as well as her natural acting style.  Obtaining a scholarship for the Royal Dramatic Theatre School in Stockholm at the age of 17, she was discovered by Swedish director Gustav Molander, who taught acting at the school and was the brother of the Theatre School director Olof Molander, with Greta Garbo among his students, immediately realizing Bergman possessed a unique quality, leaving school after only one year, as she was hired by Sweden’s largest movie studio, Svensk Filmindustri, and began making films full-time in the mid-1930’s.  The Swedish film industry in which Ingrid Bergman received her early training was one of the most advanced, technically and artistically, outside of Hollywood, and while he did not end up directing her debut film, it was Molander who supported Bergman and gave her self-confidence, teaching her “how to underplay, to be absolutely sincere and natural, and never try to be cute.  Always be yourself, and always learn your lines.”  Known as an actresses' director, Molander was crucial to the development of the Swedish film industry itself, starting out as a writer before directing films, one of few Swedish directors who easily made the transition from silent films to sound successfully, making over 70 films in just over half a century in a wide variety of genres, where the 1930’s were arguably his most prolific, with several considered the Swedish Golden Age’s central work.  Working with actresses Eva Dahlbeck, Harriet Andersson, and Ingrid Thulin, all more commonly associated with the films of Swedish director Ingmar Bergman, while also making six films with the young Ingrid Bergman in the 1930’s, which paved the way for her international career, where she went on to win three Academy Awards, two for best actress, GASLIGHT (1944) and ANASTASIA (1956), and one for best supporting actress, MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS (1974).  A master of serious comedy, all of Molander’s most successful films can rightly be described as melodramas, where the appeal was heard all the way across the ocean to America, as several of his stories were purchased by American companies and remade for American audiences, including INTERMEZZO (1936) and A WOMAN’S FACE (1938), both of which starred Ingrid Bergman, with INTERMEZZO (1939) becoming Bergman’s American Hollywood debut, while A WOMAN’S FACE (1941) was remade with Joan Crawford.  It’s fun to see Bergman in her native Sweden at such an early stage of her career, knowing what an acclaimed, international star she would eventually become, fluent in Swedish, English, German, Italian, and French, acting in all of them, while speaking Italian to her own children and English professionally.  Never before had she been so beautifully portrayed, exuding elegance and photographic radiance in some memorable costumes, where she remains among the most contemporary of the classic Hollywood stars, listed at #4 on the American Film Institute’s list of 100 greatest female stars, AFI's 100 YEARS…100 STARS.       

Bergman didn’t really become a star until the 1940’s, when her supporting role in the 1942 classic Ingrid Bergman Tribute: Casablanca effectively changed the course of her entire career.  Appearing in eleven films in her native Sweden before the age of twenty-five, Bergman’s characters were always plagued with uncertainty, fear, and anxiety.  Though she was far from enthusiastic about the script, describing it as “a piece of junk,” she agreed to make this film, which is the one the studio wanted to make, but only if they would allow her the starring role in A WOMAN’S FACE, a distinctly unglamorous role where she is bitter and horribly disfigured from a fire, a completely unsympathetic character, allowing her to stretch her range and versatility, wanting to be more than just a pretty face.  While this film was shot before A WOMAN’S FACE, it was released a year afterwards, where Bergman’s co-star is Edvin Adolphson, a notorious flirt in his early 40’s, known for his matinee idol good looks, appearing in more than 500 films going back to the silent era, and played a significant role in helping Bergman get her first screen appearance, directing her in a light comedy during her summer vacation from drama school, where they became lovers, despite their age difference and the fact that he had a wife and child at home, yet they remained friends for life.  Bearing some resemblance to Ingmar Bergman’s Sawdust and Tinsel (Gycklarnas afton) (1953), this is another film that takes place in a traveling carnival show, featuring rough-edged and hardened characters on the fringe of society who lead tempestuous lives, never staying in any one place for long, never really calling anyplace home, so the traveling road show is really their familiar place.  Adapted by Gösta Stevens, the screenwriter of most of Molander's best films, from a novel by Danish author Harald Tandrup, Valdemar Moreaux (Edvin Adolphson) is one of the carnival barkers at the merry-go-round, yet his distinction is that he lives with Helga Mårtensson (Aino Taube), the owner of a carnival, affectionately calling her by her last name, which, coincidentally enough, is also the name of the traveling show.  There’s an honest simplicity to their lives, as they seem to have a loving, yet carefree and easy going relationship, filled with off-handed humor and sarcastic remarks, with nothing really holding either one of them down, having moved around a lot in their lives, describing themselves as rootless free spirits, so a certain insecurity prevails even in the best of times.  While establishing an easy rhythm accentuating many of the featured carnival shows, the wealthy landowner Count Magnus von Brede (Olof Sandborg), a former army colonel, whose property the carnival occupies, is seen off in the distance with his beautiful yet independent-minded young ward Eva (Ingrid Bergman), a Renaissance woman visiting for the summer who is studying for her doctorate in philosophy, yet we also see her toting a rifle in her hand for shooting ducks, while later we see her performing a charming song at the piano.  Von Brede thinks there’s something familiar about Valdemar, reminding him of someone, but he can’t seem to place his finger on who it is. 

When Valdemar receives an invitation to the Count’s mansion, he assumes it’s the business of not asking permission to set the carnival on his land, but the Count isn’t bothered by that at all, and is more interested in Valdemar’s personal history, which strikes a chord, seeing qualities in him that he likes.  This well-choreographed scene reveals the young man’s special charm, quickly realizing he’s actually his lost son, the result of a one night stand, so he sends word offering him a job working in his stables.  After some discussion with Mårtensson, he thinks this might offer him possibilities, yet when he arrives and is shown his luxurious quarters, he quickly realizes these aren’t the accommodations for a stable boy.  Trying to make up for lost time, providing access to a kind of aristocratic breeding he was denied growing up, the Count wants him to be the son he never had, the successor on his massive estate, where his presence mirrors that of Eva, both young, enterprising young people with bright futures ahead of them.  While the Count attempts to bring them both together romantically, they are both stubborn and headstrong, with Eva not afraid to speak her mind, where the pridefulness she expresses in her character is something rare onscreen, even today, as this film shows what a unique talent Ingrid Bergman was.  There’s a playfulness about their exchanges as Valdemar attempts to integrate himself into this new lifestyle, with Eva remaining emotionally aloof, but even she is affected by his personal charm, but as soon as he gets amorous, she gets cold feet, willing to accept warmth and companionship, and even love, but refuses to engage in sexual relations, finding that off limits, where her dream relationship is two separate bedrooms, always wanting to exert her independence.  It’s a strange and confusing reaction, to be sure, which may puzzle viewers even today, and initially Valdemar is willing to go along, where the luxurious comfort has its rewards, not lacking for anything, but as soon as he presses the physicality in love, Eva is immediately hurt and disgusted, losing all trust in the man.  Realizing that there is such a vast difference between the free-wheeling life he was used to and the more constrained life he is now expected to lead, this is essentially an exposé of class differences, given a melodramatic sweep at the center, reflecting the oppressive straitjacket of the aristocracy, where the two young lovers are extremely appealing, as you can sense the emotion simmering just under the surface.  It recalls the sunny sophistication of Ingmar Bergman’s Smiles of a Summer Night (Sommarnattens leende) (1955), with dark undertones that keep audiences off balance, yet it’s a provocatively realistic drama where two worlds meet on a collision course with destiny, but reality kicks in with unexpected results.

A Sense of History

 

Director Mike Leigh

Jim Broadbent caricature

writer and actor Jim Broadbent

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A SENSE OF HISTORY – made for TV                  A                                                                   Great Britain  (26 mi)  1992  d: Mike Leigh

If anything should happen to me I DO want this film to be shown.                                           —23^rd Earl of Leete (Jim Broadbent)

Made after Life Is Sweet (1990), still very early in Mike Leigh’s career, shot the same year he made NAKED (1993), yet this rare, hilariously inventive film short feels more like an outlier, like nothing else he has ever done.  Going back to 1970, something traumatic happened when he was directing an amateur production of Brecht’s The Life of Galileo at the Bermuda Arts Festival, which Leigh described as an “atrocious experience,” vowing to never direct anything other than his own material ever again.  This project, however, conceived by longtime friend and collaborator Jim Broadbent, changed his mind, drawn from the arduously strict Leigh style of inventing and developing a character, initially shown as a Channel 4 TV comedy drama, this turns into a one-man show that unfolds as a virtual monologue.  While Broadbent is known primarily for his acting on stage and screen, he also wrote several television projects going back to the early 80’s culminating with this scathing satire on the British aristocracy, conceived at the end of the conservative Thatcher government rule when the rich got richer and the poor got poorer (Margaret Thatcher Ruined Britain), with this film delving into the psychopathic mindset of the aristocracy, where preservation of self, maintaining one’s social position, takes precedence over and above all other things, avoiding legal consequences while abiding by a set of rules that exist only for themselves.  In a completely unexpected aside, Broadbent spent a good part of his career doing hand-carved, wooden sculptural work (Jim Broadbent: Gallery) that reflects his ceaseless interest in creating characters, which are largely extensions of himself, much like the Michelle Williams character in Kelly Reichardt’s Showing Up (2022), where the artwork she creates are little pieces of herself.  Directed by Mike Leigh but written by and starring Broadbent, still in his early 40’s but playing an elderly man looking back on his life (accurately resembling his appearance 30-years later), where he looks like one of his sculptures, ragged and frail, teetering on the edge, with fuzzy, facial hair growing out of his cheek, not noticed at first, but a symbol of the grotesque, offering a window into his wretched soul.  This film was included as a bonus feature on Criterion’s TOPSY TURVY (1999) release, but can also be seen on YouTube.

Shot by longtime Leigh cinematographer Dick Pope on location at Highclere Castle in the middle of a freezing January 1992, this has a witty air of spontaneity to it, with surprising camera angles and a drop dead, brilliant script that takes a turn into the extreme, where this is simply not what anyone expects, much darker and funnier than anything else Leigh ever did, feeling more alive and refreshing, where this vile, dastardly underhanded character has such a pompous air of smug, self-satisfaction, yet the heinous acts he describes feel as ordinary to him as a cool breeze on a summer’s day.  Inventing a completely fictitious scenario, Broadbent introduces himself as the 23^rd Earl of Leete, a distinguished member of the British upper class, seen standing before his family’s immense estate, which he acknowledges he has a duty to maintain, at all costs, and to expand.  In order to tell his story for future generations, he decides to hire a professional film crew to shoot him in the style of classical BBC documentaries, recounting his personal story as he takes the viewer on an outdoor tour of his estate, never venturing inside, and tells of the progress of over 900 years of family history extending back to the 11^th century, speaking directly to the camera while striding around the grounds with a walking stick (which he amusingly uses to sit down at one point), faithfully followed by a black dog, yet it’s his tweed suit and balding head that stand out.  Though the format is easily recognizable, the content is shockingly confessional, acknowledging being beaten repeatedly by his appalling father, a brute of a man who nearly drove the family into financial ruin, yet what’s so savagely comic is the matter-of-fact tone he uses as he very precisely provides the ghoulish details of how he murdered his wife, children, and “homosexual” brother, sparing no details, claiming it was a necessity to preserve his standing in the upper class.  British filmmaker Nicholas Ahlmark has long championed this movie as “the best short film ever made.”  While that is disputable, it is nonetheless a highly original and provocative piece of Shakespearean fiction that traces the growth and enduring appeal of a class of people whose values might seem archaic, but constitute an essential part of the fabric of British society.

For all practical purposes, the Earl is an affable man who speaks in an erudite manner that reflects his position, where the words literally flow out of his mouth in perfect elocution, yet he’s a sneering, bigoted man of privilege who reeks of arrogance.  Horrifying and sad, growing progressively more audacious as it goes along, this takes us back to the Magna Carta, the first written constitution in European history, which was conceived to protect the various property rights of barons and other powerful aristocrats against royal encroachment, suggesting the king and his government were not above the law, having little to do with peasants and the working class.  The protagonist of this film speaks as if that is the only rule of law that matters, as inherited land passed down through the generations is the property right of his family, and anyone who undermines that net worth or hinders the ability to expand is viewed as suspect, where all bets are off, as the only thing that matters is maintaining his position of wealth at any cost, even if that means resorting to extreme methods to protect the family interest, sounding very much like THE GODFATHER (1972).  When we realize the extent of his homicidal behavior, it is both darkly chilling and absurdly hilarious, especially considering the casual manner in which he speaks, offering no regrets or remorse, instead what’s emphasized is that he considers himself first and foremost a member of his class, realizing at the age of seven that he is the only rightful family caretaker, as if chosen by God, and he simply did what he had to do.  While there are macabre elements of a mockumentary, Broadbent’s persona is so well crafted that he actually comes across as sympathetic, even though it’s clear he has no regard for anyone except himself, but it’s a beautifully realized work without an ounce of sentimentality that feels unmistakingly naturalistic.  To quote one of the characters at the end of Leigh’s Secrets and Lies (1996), a significant line about family relationships, “We’re all in pain!  Why can’t we share our pain?”  Firmly rooted in the intelligence and humanism of Jean Renoir, Leigh is a brilliant observer of the human condition, paying close attention to the mundane details, hoping to better understand the world around us through carefully crafted characters, where ordinary and everyday life is examined with an acute eye.  Most especially in Leigh’s films, England is presented in miniature.   

A Sense of History (1992) BluRay by Jim Broadbent & Mike ...  Mike Leigh film with Jim Broadbent on YouTube (26:26)