Review of Cries and Whispers (1972) by Nathan F — 05 Jan 2009

Ingmar Bergman may be the greatest director of all time--not to say that he makes the best films; or that he's the reigning master of cinema; but, in terms of his direction and possession of image, players and movement, Bergman stands unmatched.

Looking past his occasionally ponderous life-and-death musing; the images he conjures up are so carefully drawn and measured, that to watch them unfold is awing. In Cries and Whispers (in color), each scene is clinically choreographed; beauty is carefully, pedantically, constructed.

If we believe pictures are worth more than words, than Bergman is wise in his decision to pare dialogue to its bone--interactions are, as per usual, brief, dark, sharp, and heavily-laden. There is a mystical and wondrous precision to his craft; but an unusual emptiness to his programmatic idea of art--when his three actresses walk across a room their steps follow a geometric ideal--his over-perfection becomes a distancing fault; an airless, algorithmic attempt to emote.

Not to say that the film is empty; or even bad; it is a brilliant piece of film, and always intriguing. One wishes, however, that Bergman took some of his own words of perfection to heart--if everything in life is imperfect, Cries in Whispers is imperfect in its perfection.