Review of Winter Light (1963) by Christopher C — 19 Nov 2008

NATTVARDSGAESTERNA ("The Communicants", given the odd title "Winter Light" in English) was released in 1962 and is the second of Ingmar Bergman's "chamber films", a trilogy of separate efforts all marked by streamlined plots and a small cast exploring religious faith. Note that this film is available in a Criterion Collection box set along with the other two films of the trilogy.

NATTVARDSGAESTERNA is perhaps the smallest Bergman film in scale, taking place only over a single Sunday afternoon. As the film opens, the priest Thomas (Gunnar Bjoernstrand) presides over Sunday services with a meagre congregation. In a bold extended scene, Bergman captures the entire Lutheran liturgy from the "Lamb of God" to the dismissal. While the parishioners are mainly bored or distracted, Thomas seems iron-cast in his faith. But subsequent events reveal his tormenting uncertainty on the existence of God and the meaning of life. He proves unable to comfort a parishioner (Max von Sydow) consumed by fear of nuclear war, nor is he able to sustain his long but rocky relationship with the village schoolmarm Marta (Ingrid Thulin).

While the characters experience great pain due to their inability to see God and relate with their fellow human beings, this is not an entirely bleak film. I have always seen an element of reconciliation in the closing shots, the one time in Bergman's oeuvre where hope is still clearly alive. This was, however, the last time he dealt with religious faith in any overt way. In TYSNADEN ("The Silence"), the last film of the chamber trilogy, any discussion of God is notable by its complete absence. Then, following the chamber trilogy, Bergman shifted his focus dramatically from religious faith to human relationships.

Bergman broke new ground in cinematic storytelling here, and not only in the opening scene. When Thomas reads a letter from Marta, the text is delivered by her in soliloquy, speaking directly to the camera in two long shots. Indoor scenes are driven by dialogue, while in outdoor scenes, reflecting the grim Swedish winter, there is little talking at all.

I consider this Bergman's greatest film not only in its flawless screenplay, but also in the achievements of his collaborators. The acting is superb, with Bjoernstrand giving the most convincing performance of his career. Sven Nykvist's camera work successfully conveys the emotions of the characters and the bleakness of their winter surroundings. The real power of the film to me is evident in that, though I've known this film for several years now, the questions it raises still provoke much thought.