In a reprint of his 1958 review of Ingmar Bergman‘s Summer with Monika, Jean-Luc Godard wrote of the scene captured above (and previewed to the right) saying, “One must see Summer with Monika, if only for the extraordinary minutes when Harriet Andersson, about to sleep with a guy she has left once before, stares fixedly into the camera, her laughing eyes clouded with distress, and calls on the viewer to witness her self-loathing at involuntarily choosing hell over heaven. It is the saddest shot in the history of cinema.”
The full review is included in the 28-page booklet accompanying Criterion’s new Blu-ray release of the film along with an essay by Laura Hubner (read it in full right here) whose interpretation of the shot reads as follows:
The static shot of Monika’s face is scandalously close up, and she looks steadfastly at us, breaking the cinematic illusion, as the screen darkens around her. Such a shot has rarely been seen in cinema, and it was practically unheard-of at the time. Film critic Robin Wood described this moment as almost the only departure from the film’s strict naturalism. Monika’s returning our gaze distances us from the fiction. It also says, “Look at me and judge me if you dare.”
While I haven’t given you a description of the film, I hope these two interpretations of a scene that holds a strong place in cinema’s history and one that, until now, I was completely unaware of its existence, have piqued your interest, urging you to learn more.
As far as Summer with Monika is concerned, it is one of two new Bergman films recently released by the Criterion Collection on Blu-ray and DVD alongside his 1951 feature Summer Interlude starring Maj-Britt Nilsson and Birger Malmsten. This is the first time either has been available on DVD and/or Blu-ray in the U.S.
Both films carry frequent Bergman themes, largely his exploration of life and death, loneliness and isolation, something that can be found in virtually every Bergman film in great quantities. Missing is his always fascinating take on religion, but not everything can have it all.
Both dark in their tone, they explore young love and the frustrations that come with growing up. In Summer Interlude a ballet dancer (Nilsson) receives a diary reminding her of a tragic ten-year-old relationship as the memories come swirling back to her. In Summer with Monika the story begins and progresses as so many stories of rebellious youths we’ve seen throughout cinema’s history with a young couple (Andersson and Lars Ekborg) quitting their jobs and running away from their families and responsibilities to spend an isolated summer on the beach. Their fairy tale is soon met with a reality check, which is when deeper themes open themselves up for exploration. Both stories are fascinating in their presentation of youthful impulses and how they can betray you, but how they are imperative to our growing older.
As a relatively new Bergman fan and being one since seeing The Seventh Seal (Blu-ray review here) for the first time about four-and-a-half years ago, these two films allowed me to begin putting the pieces together when it comes to items I’ve read about his technique and heard on previous audio commentaries.
These are the earliest Bergman works I’ve seen to date, before this Smiles of a Summer Night held that honor, which I reviewed last June when Criterion released that title on Blu-ray. However, while I enjoyed that film, largely, as I said, because “I’m a big Ingmar Bergman fan”, it didn’t resonate with me as much as these two did. Summer Night is a comedy and what I’m largely attracted to is Bergman’s darker side and both of these films have that in spades.
I watched both in chronological order, beginning with Summer Interlude and immediately taking note of the shot angles and decisions made by Bergman and cinematographer Gunnar Fischer who also shot Summer with Monika along with Summer Night, The Seventh Seal and several others until Bergman would hand the camera over to Sven Nykvist, whose work may be known in larger circles, but Fischer’s eye is extraordinary from his wide angle shots along the water and the continued gazing into the sky as the sun peeks from behind the clouds. Both Interlude and Monika often look skyward, reminding me instantly of the opening shots in The Seventh Seal, but both also feature several shots along the water and of meals served on blankets, reminding me plenty of Bergman’s Wild Strawberries, most notably the final moments.
While I found Interlude to be largely straight-forward, the tie created with Monika is undeniable as the two seem to lock together like two perfectly opposing puzzle pieces. One deals with the loss of a man, the other with the loss of a woman. This, however, is to boil things down all too simply and that being said, the straight-forward narrative of Interlude could certainly become more complex if you were to examine Nilsson’s Marie alongside Andersson’s Monika, comparing their wants, desires, home life and ultimate decisions. Bergman may leave Summer with Monika open to interpretation, but as Godard also points out in his review, Interlude‘s autumnal setting means it could be looked at as a continuation of Monika in a thematic sense more than anything else, but the two certainly share a connection.
When it comes to Criterion’s Blu-ray presentation of the two films, both look immaculate to the point you’d never guess they were products of the early ’50s. The features all reside on the disc for Summer with Monika as Summer Interlude only includes a 14-page booklet with an essay by Bergman specialist Peter Cowie which you can read online right here.
Summer with Monika, however, has more. On top of the previously mentioned 28-page booklet, which also includes a brief interview in which Bergman questioned himself, first is a new interview with Andersson, conducted by Peter Cowie, in which the two discuss her long career with Bergman for whom she would star in several films as well as have an affair with the then married director.
Next is an interview with film scholar Eric Schaefer who discusses the source of the trailer I’ve included here as exploitation producer Kroger Babb purchased the distribution rights for Monika in America, retitled it Monika, the Story of a Bad Girl!, cut about 30 minutes from the running time, dubbed it in English and released it as an exploitation film.
And finally, there’s a 30-minute documentary titled “Images from the Playground” in which old behind-the-scenes footage shot by Bergman has been restored and presented under the watchful eye of Martin Scorsese who introduces the feature which is broken up into pieces and largely focuses on Bergman’s time working with Harriet Andersson and Bibi Andersson (no relation) and includes archival audio interviews to help shape a narrative.
In terms of whether these are titles you should purchase, I would say the fact you are reading this sentence right now suggests you might want to buy them both. If there was one to buy over the other, Monika is definitely the first choice as it presents far more topics to explore and is a much deeper film thematically. It is, however, hard to imagine not wanting to own Interlude as well, giving you the opportunity to return to them both at the same time and watch them back-to-back as I did for purposes of this article.
Bergman is always offering food for thought and with Monika it marks a turning point in his career and with these two films under your belt a whole new world will begin to open up for you once you delve into his early work and begin returning to the later classics we’ve all come to know and cherish. I say all of this as someone who is relatively new to Bergman and still have plenty to experience and experience again and again, and I’m happy I will now have these two films to reference once I do.
With that I will leave you with the following screen shot from Summer with Monika and if you’d like to see more check out several excellent captures over at DVD Beaver.
Also, if you found this article interesting you may enjoy watching Woody Allen‘s interview with Mark Kermode talking about Bergman and how Summer with Monika was the first Bergman film he saw. Watch Part One of that interview right here. That said, if you’re a Woody Allen fan I don’t see how you can’t be a Bergman fan.
