How Do You Say, "Bummer" in Swedish?

Strictly speaking, there is someone who is in worse shape than I am. Ingmar Bergman has died.

Honestly, I wasn't a huge fan of his work. Oh, sure, I appreciated it intellectually and wanted to embrace his films because all the cool kids were doing it and he influenced film-makers I do care about, like Woody Allen. But mostly I thought his films were sorta boring. I actually fell asleep watching "Wild Strawberries". In the theatre.

You know who else puts me to sleep? Stanley Kubrik. No kidding. With a very few exceptions, Kubrik bores the snot out of me.

But I digress. Ingmar Bergman was a gifted film-maker who knew his way around, uh, a camera and um, austere windswept Swedish landscapes. And he sure knew how to light his actresses. Snaps. (I'm sorry, I keep having this picture in my head of him playing chess with Death before he, you know, died. Is that wrong?)

Rest in peace, Ingmar.

Here's a little film The Spouse made some years ago; his homage to Bergman.




Hannah Und Heir Papa

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