Summer Interlude (1951)

Not trated, but a main character faces a pretty gnarley death with black-and-white blood all over his face.  Also, there's a weirdly unaddressed age and consent issue with someone who is considered a family member (if only by marriage.) Bergman once again seems to normalize the concept of domestic abuse, implying that men sometimes absolutely just need to put a woman in her place.  But still, not rated.

DIRECTOR:  Ingmar Bergman

I'm going to forget that I watched this movie.  It won't even take that long.  Maybe --just maybe! --I'll remember that I've seen it but couldn't tell you a darned thing about it.  Part of it comes from the fact that the title is reminiscent of an Ozu title.  But Summer Interlude, while not being a bad movie in itself, feels potentially the most underbaked of the Bergman movies that I watched so far.

It's a real bummer because, despite the fact that it is once again incredibly bleak, this might be the most traditionally romantic movie that I've seen come from Bergman.  There's the heavy implication that Henrik doesn't come out of the movie intact.  We know that from moment one.  After all, Marie seems upset with her life.  Her relationship with David, while somewhat charming at first, seems vapid and empty.  (I'm going to maintain that these two don't actually have a working relationship, despite the fact that the movie ends with them together and in a healthier place.) This is the story of a summer romance.  I enjoy the fact that it has the name "Interlude" in there, tying back to the notion that Bergman is once again analyzing the role of the artist with the art.  I can see why Criterion bunches these movies together.  While not potentially thematically tied, there are motifs that drift between films.  (I'm actually going to break my own rule with the next Bergman I'm going to watch and jump on ahead to the television version of Fanny and Alexander, simply because I want to create a little bit of a distance between watching the television version and the theatrical version.) But Bergman almost uses the dancer as a means to somehow relate to the female character. 

I realize I'm being incredibly unfair, but I'm starting to pull Bergman down from his pedestal.  It's not Bergman that I have issues with.  The issue that I'm coming to grips with is that Bergman is not just one person.  In my mind, Bergman was always The Seventh Seal Bergman or Persona Bergman.  Bergman never really gets dumb, but he also is a dude who might not always have layers and layers to his planning with his characters.  With To Joy, he had his male protagonist be the artist.  It's not unreasonable to make the leap that Bergman is using that violinist as an avatar for himself.  He's the artist who has the frustrations between what it is like to be the grounded person and the person aspiring for greatness.  The next year, he comes out with Summer Interlude and again puts an artist in the role of the protagonist.  I applaud the fact that he stretches his wings, challenging himself with the notion of a woman artist instead of a male artist as the protagonist.  But I also see the shorthand.  While it isn't art that drives Henrik away (directly) in the film, there are moments where it causes strain on the relationship.  The very character of the artist is almost a conflict to the plot itself and it makes sense.  But Bergman's argument between this and To Joy is that artists are completely capable of having healthy relationships.  It just involves putting the self aside.

But that's not the point of this story, is it?  As much as a good 70% of this movie is devoted to the summer of Marie's 15-year-old self (something I absolutely need to address later), the movie isn't strictly a traditional romance between Henrik and Marie.  Bergman weaves in conflicts to keep the middle part interesting.  It's probably why Uncle Erland is so darned gross.  If Bergman is going to tell a story, he's going to lace it with conflict just so that there can be something to watch.  Ultimately, from Marie's perspective, her relationship with Henrik is untouchable.  It was the happiest summer of her life, but that's really boring to film and probably even more boring to watch.  That artist stuff?  It's a distraction from what is actually the theme of the story. Really, we're supposed to be paying attention to the other 30% of the story: Marie doesn't know how to grieve.  I said that this movie might be Bergman's most romantic tale and I still stand by that. But the meat and potatoes of this film are about how it is important to properly feel sadness and to confront the past.  Really, the movie is just Inside Out.  Erland isn't the healthiest human being. In fact, I think he's one of the more screwed up characters out there.  There are times when he ranges from all out gross to just being a sad old man.  But he's one of those gross characters who means well (and you should absolutely not forgive him for hitting on his 15-year-old niece).  But he's trying to protect her.  He knows that she's going to go through unfathomable pain, having lost the first love of her life, and he wants to protect her.  Unfortunately, it's one of those things where there is no right answer.  Again, as romantic as this movie is, it's really about dealing with trauma.  

But I do need to talk about some weird choices.  I don't know if this is reflective of Bergman, his Swedish background, or a hodgepodge of both, but why does he intentionally make things so messy?  I've talked about it with the rest of the movies that I've watched in the box set so far (I have so many left!).  People treat each other terribly in this movie.  The first real issue that I have and that I've alluded to is the fact that the movie makes Marie 15.  From a certain perspective, I see why setting it 13 years before the adult Marie is in the film.  Part of that comes from the notion that this has to be a first love.  Secondly, Marie has become so overwhelmed with adulthood that her love for dance has somehow devolved into a burden.  But when the movie makes her fifteen, there's the real issue of what Uncle Erland's attraction to her is. Part of it is the fact that he was attracted to her mother and that he can't divorce the two images from themselves.  Okay, but that's not what the movie is about.  But the other part is that, as much as we like Henrik, he's not appropriate for her.  The movie implies Henrik takes her virginity and that's just a concept that is in the movie.  This is also coupled with the idea that Marie is emotionally more mature than Henrik.

I know.  I know.  I'm retreading ground with Bergman's need to create conflict.  But Marie and Henrik are terrible for one another.  Marie is absolutely awful to Henrik, like many other of Bergman's romance stories.  She flirts with her uncle.  She calls him a baby for being emotionally invested in many things, including the awkward family life that he deals with when it comes to his lodging.  But the crazy part is that Henrik is also kind of the worst?  He's handsome, sure.  He made the first move, sure.  But the rest of the characterization of Henrik is a man-child.  He's this guy who actually tells Marie that he's borderline unlikable.  He has no friends.  No one cares about him except for his dog.  But he's also one to go cry in the bushes the second anything bad happens to him.  For all of the goofy moments between the two of them, Henrik exacerbates things the second that things don't go his way.  Yet, Marie keeps oddly repenting for her behavior despite the fact that Henrik can't deal with conflict in a mature way.

The movie is good.  I don't dislike the movie at all.  It's just that I will not remember this movie.  It happens.  I was scrolling past the Film Index section of this blog and there are a lot of movies that I feel like I've never heard of, despite writing long-winded essays about all of them.  Still, it's  worth a watch.