Winter's Light (1963)

Bergman's

melancholic character 

study,

may be too cold 

and flat for me.

This film is my second experience with seminal Swedish filmmaker Ingmar Bergman. I watched this film mere days after watching Through a Glass Darkly, a film which I consider to be a masterpiece. I did not review that film as I believe only a Masterpiece Corner review would do it any justice. The two film's have more connecting them than simply belonging within the same filmography, as they are part of a thematic trilogy (Darkly being the first and Winter's Light being the second). Despite my love for this film's predecessor however, I did not form a particularly strong connection to this film and found it very monotonous and dull. I do not believe this film to be poor by any means, however it did not impress me as much as I had hoped.

The most important aspect of the film to discuss is it's primary actor, Gunnar Björnstrand (also a prominent actor within Darkly). He is utterly brilliant in portraying a conflicted priest and conveys the bitterness and weariness of the character beautifully. Similar praise goes to Ingrid Thulin, who manages to balance civilised restraint with raw emotion very well. She also offers the film's greatest scene, a long declaration of love and confusion done within a single unbroken take. My issues with this film do not lie with it's acting, and every performance is either solid or fantastic.

My issues begin with the film's pacing. Like many of Bergman's films Winter's Light is fairly short, hovering around the ninety minute mark. Despite this, the film feels far longer and made for a surprisingly difficult watch. I found myself unable to finish the film within a single sitting, something which I cannot recall happening to me before with a film of this length. The cause of this difficulty lies with the film's deeply melancholic and languid tone. I am not averse to bleak or melancholic films (Darkly is an example of this in it's own right), however Winter's Light offers no respite of levity at any point throughout it's duration. This makes the film an exhausting and almost boring viewing experience, which is not a term I use lightly. When the Wind Blows is also a film which is heavily melancholic in it's tone, however it gives moments of respite and offers variation in the ways it portrays it's horrors. Winter's Light is comprised of a string of melodramatic conversations, with little variation or respite. The term I would best use to describe this film is, flat. Nothing moves or flows, it's emotions and pacing disappointingly stagnant and unchanging. The priest's depression does not build or even change, it remains mostly the same throughout. Despite my reluctance to use this term, I found this film very dull.

On a more positive note, this film's cinematography is stunning and I would happily hang any frame from it on my wall. In particular the voyeuristic shots lingering on the nails within the hands of a wooden Christ. I also loved the film's ending, which reaches a level of despondency which almost reaches a darkly comedic level in my eyes. Finally, although I find it vastly inferior, it makes an interesting film to compare to Darkly, as they cover similar themes whilst showing different perspectives.

Overall, I was disappointed by this film. It has not effected my views on Bergman and look forward to watching more of his film's in the future. Winter's Light is considered a masterpiece by many, and I do not dispute it's claim to such praise. However the film failed to engage me, and I will not pretend that it did.

By Jack D. Phillips

A Zoom Film Review