Sweden comedy
1960
bw 108 min.
Director: Ingmar Bergman
CLV: $49.95 - available
           1 disc, catalog # CC1251L
VHS: available from Home Vision Cinema
Late in 1955
Ingmar Bergman made a nearly perfect work -- the exquisite carnal
comedy Smiles of a Summer Night. It was the distillation of
elements he had worked with for several years in the 1952 Secrets
of Women (originally called The Waiting Women), the 1953
A Lesson in Love, and the early 1955 Dreams; these
episodic comedies of infidelity are like early attempts or
drafts. They were all set in the present, and the themes were plainly
exposed; the dialogue, full of arch epigrams, was often clumsy, and
the ideas, like the settings, were frequently depressingly middle
class and novelettish. Structurally, they were sketchy and full of
flashbacks. There were scattered lovely moments, as if Bergman's eye
were looking ahead to the visual elegance of Smiles of a Summer
Night, but the plot threads were still wooly. Smiles of a
Summer Night was made after Bergman directed a stage production of
The Merry Widow, and he gave the film a turn-of-the-century
setting. Perhaps it was this distance that made it possible for him to
create a work of art out of what had previously been mere clever
ideas. He not only tied up the themes in the intricate plot structure
of a love roundelay, but in using the lush period setting, he created
an atmosphere that saturated the themes. The film is bathed in beauty,
removed from the banalities of short skirts and modern-day streets and
shops, and, removed in time, it draws us closer.
Bergman found a
high style within a set of boudoir farce conventions: in Smiles of
a Summer Night boudoir farce becomes lyric poetry. The sexual
chases and the round dance are romantic, nostalgic; the coy bits of
feminine plotting are gossamer threads of intrigue. The film becomes
an elegy to transient love: a gust of wind and the whole vision may
drift away.
There are four of the most talented and beautiful women
ever to appear in one film: as the actress, the great Eva Dahlbeck,
appearing on stage, giving a house party and, in one inspired
suspended moment, singing "Freut Euch des Lebens"; the impudent
love-loving maid, Harriet Andersson -- as a blonde, but as opulent and
sensuous as in her other great roles; Margit Carlquist as the proud,
unhappy countess; Ulla Jacobsson as the eager virgin.
Even Bergman's
epigrams are much improved when set in the quotation marks of a
stylized period piece. (Though I must admit I can't find justification
for such bright exchanges as the man's question, "What can a woman
ever see in a man?" and her response, "Women are seldom interested in
aesthetics. Besides, we can always turn out the light." I would have
thought you couldn't get a laugh on that one unless you tried it in an
old folks' home, but Bergman is a man of the theater -- audiences
break up on it.) Bergman's sensual scenes are much more charming, more
unexpected in the period setting: when they are deliberately unreal
they have grace and wit. How different it is to watch the same actor
and actress making love in the stuck elevator of Secrets of
Women and in the golden pavilion of Smiles of a Summer
Night. Everything is subtly improved in the soft light and
delicate, perfumed atmosphere.
In Bergman's modern comedies,
marriages are contracts that bind the sexes in banal boredom
forever. The female strength lies in convincing the man that he's big
enough to act like a man in the world, although secretly he must
acknowledge his dependence on her. (J. M. Barrie used to say the same
thing in the cozy, complacent Victorian terms of plays like What
Every Woman Knows; it's the same concept that Virginia Woolf raged
against -- rightly, I think -- in The Three Guineas.) The
straying male is just a bad child -- but it is the essence of maleness
to stray. Bergman's typical comedy heroine, Eva Dahlbeck, is the woman
as earthmother who finds fulfillment in accepting the infantilism of
the male. In the modern comedies she is a strapping goddess with teeth
big enough to eat you and a jaw and neck to swallow you down; Bergman
himself is said to refer to her as "The Woman Battleship."
But in
Smiles of a Summer Night, though the roles of the sexes are
basically the same, the perspective is different. In this vanished
setting, nothing lasts, there are no winners in the game of love; all
victories are ultimately defeats -- only the game goes on. When Eva
Dahlbeck, as the actress, wins back her old lover (Gunnar
Bjšrnstrand), her plot has worked -- but she really hasn't won
much. She caught him because he gave up; they both know he's
defeated. Smiles is a tragicomedy; the man who thought he "was
great in guilt and in glory" falls -- he's "only a bumpkin" This is a
defeat we can all share -- for have we not all been forced to face
ourselves as less than we hoped to be? There is no lesson, no moral --
the women's faces do not tighten with virtuous endurance (the setting
is too unreal for endurance to be plausible). The glorious old
Mrs. Armfeldt (Naima Wifstrand) tells us that she can teach her
daughter nothing -- or, as she puts it, "We can never save a single
person from a single suffering -- and that's what makes us
despair."
Smiles of a Summer Night was the culmination of
Bergman's "rose" style and he has not returned to it. (The Seventh
Seal, perhaps his greatest "black" film, was also set in a remote
period.) The Swedish critic Rune Waldekranz has written that Smiles
of a Summer Night "wears the costume of the fin de sicle
period for visual emphasis of the erotic comedy's fundamental premise
-- that the step between the sublime and the ridiculous in love is a
short one, but nevertheless one that a lot of people stub their toe
on. Although suffering from several ingenuous slapstick situations,
Smiles of a Summer Night is a comedy in the most important
meaning of the word. It is an arabesque on an essentially tragic
theme, that of man's insufficiency, at the same time as it wittily
illustrates the belief expressed fifty years ago by Hjalmar
Sšderberg that the only absolutes in life are 'the desire of the
flesh and the incurable loneliness of the soul.' "
-- PAULINE
KAEL
Credits
Director and Screenplay: Ingmar
Bergman
Cinematography: Gunnar Fischer
Music: Erik
Nordgren
Sets: D. H. Lundgren
Costumes: Mago
Sound:
P.O. Pettersson
Editor: Oscar Rosander
Supervisor: Gustav
Roger
Makeup: Carl M. Lundh
Transfer
This edition of
Smiles of a Summer Night was transferred from a 35mm master
print.