Through A Glass Darkly (1961)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Through A Glass Darkly (1961) – I. Bergman

At first glance, this appears to be a simple (sad) story, simply told, from Ingmar Bergman and his team:  A young woman (Harriet Andersson) slips back into psychosis after returning home from the mental hospital.  Andersson is truly impressive as her character Karin begins to lose her grip on reality and, in a lucid moment, declares that she must choose which world to live in -- but the only choice seems to be the world of voices where God (or a horrifying spider?) might open a door to grace us at any moment.  But the film is richer than just a straightforward detailing of a descent into madness – we also see the ramifications for her immediately family (husband Max von Sydow, father Gunnar Björnstrand, and brother Lars Passgård).  Her father is the Bergman surrogate, a writer who has been utilising his daughter’s trauma for his own work, feeling guilty about it, avoidant of the situation (but perhaps drained by having to confront similar issues with his late wife).  Bergman hints at his typical theme of the artist’s role in society (and their burdens) – but he may be ashamed of his own mining of his close relationships for film and theatre scripts.  The husband is portrayed as fatalistic and helpless, supportive but unable to cope – he offers one angry outburst at the father’s neglect and selfishness but otherwise accepts affairs as they are.  The brother is the most vulnerable, unable to escape his sister’s orbit, already full of self-loathing and shyness, and possibly harmed psychologically by his sister’s actions and his father’s absence and avoidance.  Sven Nykvist’s cinematography uses lots of natural light -- the outdoor scenes on Fårö can be beautiful, the indoor scenes occasionally surreal and haunting. The end result is horror, played out as a chamber piece, where the question hanging in the air is “why?” Why does God let this happen? Why do we continue with life in the face of such horror? The father’s suggestion that the existence of love is the reason for us to persist does not feel entirely convincing (or at least Bergman does not seem entirely convinced).  But perhaps it is genuinely true that we are sustained in this life by our friends, family, and loved ones, and thus we fight on.  But the darkness can be pretty dark.