Throughout a career that has spanned six decades, Ingmar Bergman has not been known as a director of light comedies of manners. When certain landmark titles come to mind (THE SEVENTH SEAL, PERSONA), I get images of deeply meditative poetry which, through their iconic imagery, often delve much deeper into the layers of his characters' hidden and exposed feelings and bring forth subtle yet multiple meanings to his unique stories. So when coming across one of his earlier works -- SMILES OF A SUMMER NIGHT -- with only the knowledge of it being the movie that brought him into international acclaim on the cusp of THE SEVENTH SEAL and little else, I was prepared to view yet another of his ultra-serious tapestries of reflection that would leave me thinking and thinking and thinking.
However, I was most surprised when, from the get-go, SMILES OF A SUMMER NIGHT opened in on a high note. A farce in the tradition of the most refined English or French comedies, sharply influenced by Shakespeare, it opens in on three couples about to realize who they are in relation to one another, and to the person they are meant to be with. Frederik Egerman is married to Anne, a woman about the age of his son Henrik. He has not been able to consummate his marriage to her because he prefers she remain a virgin. However, he has a lover in Desiree, a stage actress who reveals to him her son is also named Frederik (for reasons that are clear to us, even though she never verbalizes it). She is also carrying on an affair with Count Malcolm who is married to Charlotte, though the last two probably look like they would rather be divorced as they seem to hate each other. At the same time, Petra, the maid, is brazenly offering herself to Henrik -- the woman literally oozes sex in every scene she's in.
These characters converge at a dinner at Desiree's estate that she's planned because she wants to take matters into her own hand in regards to these people, also because she has an invested interest at hand. Her mother has prepared a love potion and has served it to her guests, who drink from it, bringing forth unusual consequences to them all.
Deliciously wicked from start to finish, SMILES OF A SUMMER NIGHT crackles with kinetic energy, a razor-sharp script, and strong characters. The men are all clueless of what is around them which makes for a splendid farce. The women, on the other hand, all fare much better in Bergman's movie since all are variations of female assertiveness which places them in a position ages ahead of the time-line of the story, and therefore, the ultimate controllers of destiny. Magic is a feminine science, so it's appropriate when Desiree's mother -- a woman who has a morbid sense of humor -- dictates to her hapless guests the ingredients of her potion. Even Anne, who at first shows signs of being much too sensitive for her own good, toughens up quite a bit when Charlotte comes to visit and lets her in on her husband's affair by throwing it right back and effectively silencing her into dullness.
A beautiful and quite touching comedy, SMILES OF A SUMMER NIGHT is a movie that makes for a perfect introduction into Ingmar Bergman's work even when it's the only flat-out slapstick he's directed and all of his movies following this one are much graver in nature. It features his trademark closeups of actors facing the camera, all conveying more than their faces would register initially, which has become the benchmark of Bergman's cinema.
However, I was most surprised when, from the get-go, SMILES OF A SUMMER NIGHT opened in on a high note. A farce in the tradition of the most refined English or French comedies, sharply influenced by Shakespeare, it opens in on three couples about to realize who they are in relation to one another, and to the person they are meant to be with. Frederik Egerman is married to Anne, a woman about the age of his son Henrik. He has not been able to consummate his marriage to her because he prefers she remain a virgin. However, he has a lover in Desiree, a stage actress who reveals to him her son is also named Frederik (for reasons that are clear to us, even though she never verbalizes it). She is also carrying on an affair with Count Malcolm who is married to Charlotte, though the last two probably look like they would rather be divorced as they seem to hate each other. At the same time, Petra, the maid, is brazenly offering herself to Henrik -- the woman literally oozes sex in every scene she's in.
These characters converge at a dinner at Desiree's estate that she's planned because she wants to take matters into her own hand in regards to these people, also because she has an invested interest at hand. Her mother has prepared a love potion and has served it to her guests, who drink from it, bringing forth unusual consequences to them all.
Deliciously wicked from start to finish, SMILES OF A SUMMER NIGHT crackles with kinetic energy, a razor-sharp script, and strong characters. The men are all clueless of what is around them which makes for a splendid farce. The women, on the other hand, all fare much better in Bergman's movie since all are variations of female assertiveness which places them in a position ages ahead of the time-line of the story, and therefore, the ultimate controllers of destiny. Magic is a feminine science, so it's appropriate when Desiree's mother -- a woman who has a morbid sense of humor -- dictates to her hapless guests the ingredients of her potion. Even Anne, who at first shows signs of being much too sensitive for her own good, toughens up quite a bit when Charlotte comes to visit and lets her in on her husband's affair by throwing it right back and effectively silencing her into dullness.
A beautiful and quite touching comedy, SMILES OF A SUMMER NIGHT is a movie that makes for a perfect introduction into Ingmar Bergman's work even when it's the only flat-out slapstick he's directed and all of his movies following this one are much graver in nature. It features his trademark closeups of actors facing the camera, all conveying more than their faces would register initially, which has become the benchmark of Bergman's cinema.