Viskningar och rop; art-film / drama, Sweden, 1972; D: Ingmar Bergman, S: Ingrid Thulin, Liv Ullmann, Harriet Andersson, Kari Sylwan
A rural house at the turn of the 19th and 20th century. Agnes is dying from a terminal stomach illness and is nurtured by maid Anna. Agnes' two sisters, Karin and Maria, are also there to keep he company. Agnes dies, causing Karin and Maria to reflect on their lives. Maria had an affair with the doctor, even though she is married to Joakim. Karin, on the other hand, is cold and distant. Anna is still devoutly religious despite the death of Agnes, and reads her diary.
Included in Roger Ebert's list of Great Movies, Ingmar Bergman's art-film is still mysterious, challenging and demanding psychological drama tackling some of the most taboo topics—the last days of a person dying on their deathbed; and the effect this leaves on the living who stay behind. Bergman is very elegant, smooth and minimalist in crafting this thin story—the opening act consists only out of aesthetic images of sunrays behind a tree; close-ups of clocks which signal that time is running out; and the terminally ill character of Agnes who wakes up in her bed and starts writing in her journal. By the time the first dialogue appears, already 9 minutes of the film have passed. There is no spectacle here, it is all very intimate and quiet. Agnes dies already halfway into the film, in a very painstaking and painful sequence, and the rest of the film revolves around her sisters Karin (Ingrid Thulin) and Maria (excellent Liv Ullmann), showing how each of them is an island for herself, how all of them are isolated and different despite being related.
Karin is cold, distant and is afraid of human touch: in the most gruesome moment, she takes a piece of broken glass and slashes herself between her legs, under the dress, even placing blood on her lips, just to keep her husband away from herself. Maria, on the other hand, longs for warmth and human touch, and even has an affair with the doctor treating Agnes. Towards the end, when Agnes confronts Maria for touching her, almost incestously, they have this exchange: "You touched me. Dont you remember that?" - "I don't remember every stupid thing I've done, and I won't be made to account for them". Bergman has problems with articulating the content, since he is not quite sure what he wants to say (one unusual surreal sequence near the finale stands out stylistically from the rest of the story), but he crafts a very cozy mood thanks to huge close-ups of faces and Sven Nykvist's fine cinematography. As the movie contemplates, the theme is comfort in life, and the lack of it. When Maria and Karin reach their final days, who or what will comfort them? Agnes found comfort in religion and human compassion, even despite her pain and dying. Conversely, Maria and Karin are healthy, but have not found comfort neither in religion nor in human relationships. The ultimate point is that solace needs to be found even in small moments of happiness, as the final dialogue displays.
Grade:+++