The Influence Of
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Gulino-Waller 1 Cover credit: I’d say I didn’t design that cover except I’d be lying. The Influence of By Sarahfina Rose Gulino-Waller 2 The Influence of Ingmar Bergman ‘’If you were alive in the ’50s and the ’60s and of a certain age, a teenager on your way to becoming an adult, and you wanted to make movies, I don’t see how you couldn’t be influenced by Bergman’’—Martin Scorsese (Mercury). Ingmar Bergman and the shark from JAWS, Hollywood 1975. The list of filmmakers inspired by Swedish director Ingmar Bergman is seemingly endless. His fanclub includes, but is not limited to, influential contemporary artists such as Tomas Alfredson, Woody Allen, Lukas Moodyson, Milos Forman, Stanley Kubrick, Michael Winterbottom, Mike Hodges, Thomas Vinterberg, Alexander Payne, Terence Davies, Sally Potter, Olivier Assayas, David Lynch, Wes Craven, and many others. That’s just the short list. Bergman, in turn, has drawn inspiration from filmmakers he’s admired, such as Akira Kurosawa, Andrei Tarkovsky, and the filmmakers of silent cinema, just to name a few. Let us examine some films by directors who have been influenced by Bergman time and again. Gulino-Waller 3 Bergman and Spain: Amantes (English: Lovers: A True Story; 1991) has been compared to Bergman’s take on sexuality and religion, and director Vicente Aranda has been influenced by him (‘’Names of the Spanish culture reminiscent of Swedish filmmaker Ingmar Bergman’’). I’ve seen ongoing discussions about it and even thought whilst watching the film, ‘’This feels kinda Bergman- esque,’’ particularly Persona (1966) and The Silence (1963), both of which caused controversy in Sweden and were heavily censored as a result. Also, icy blonde Bergman women for the win. Maribel Verdú and Jorge Sanz in AMANTES (1991). I discovered awhile back that Bergman and Spanish filmmaker, Luis Buñuel, have actually been influenced by each other (well, more so the latter), which explains a lot. So I’m not crazy seeing the similarities between Viridiana (1961) and The Virgin Spring (1960), both films released a year apart (see Reactions to THE VIRGIN SPRING discussion on Piazza). The Silence has been classified, too, in the same ranks of Buñuel’s Belle de Jour (1967) (Michaels 21-67). Gulino-Waller 4 The famous openning montage of Persona (some frames intentionally repeat in the middle of the film) is very reminiscent of an early Buñuel experimental film, particularly Un Chien Andalou’s (1929) shocking surrealism: Gulino-Waller 5 Sally Potter’s 2012 film GINGER & ROSA harbours obvious parallels to PERSONA (1966) (Thorsteinsson). It would be the time, I believe, when Bergman’s films were released internationally and Buñuels films, too, were having more exposure outside Mexico, Spain and France. Bergman, anyway, has been cited to have said of Buñuel’s work in particular, ‘’Buñuel nearly always made Buñuel films,’’ (Wilson), rehashing what another critic said about his own work: ‘’Bergman does Bergman,’’ or something along those lines (Marshall). At the same time, he says he doesn’t necessarily appreciate Buñuel, but he respects him. He also observes that Buñuel moved ‘’in the same field as Tarkovsky’’ (Bailey) which I think is a good thing since he regarded Tarkovsky very highly. Bergman had always interested himself in other directors’ works (even though he’s been unfairly harsh towards the greatest ones like Michelangelo Antonioni—one of my personal faves—, like, ‘’God Bergman, you’re great, but get your head out of your ass’’). Bergman only regarded La Notte (1961) and Blow-Up (1966) (which, in turn, inspired Francis Ford Coppola’s The Conversation; 1974 —both films went on to inspire the less than impressive Brian De Palma film Blow Out; 1981) as Antonioni’s masterpieces. He says of Antonioni that ‘’he never learned the trade’’ and that he ‘’never understood him’’. It wasn’t until Bergman met Antonioni face-to- face that he began to admire him ‘’because I have suddenly understood what he is doing,’’ he says (Wilson). Regardless of Bergman lashing out at some of his fellow artists (what I don’t understand is that despite how much he adored the work of Kurosawa, he flat-out denounced him as an auteur: ‘’Yet Kurosawa,’’ he is quoted, ‘’has never made a Kurosawa film’’), he seemed to Gulino-Waller 6 interest himself in other filmmakers such as Spielberg in Jaws-era, Kurosawa during Virgin Spring, and even Coppola post-Godfather. In his own words: Among today’s directors I’m of course impressed by Steven Spielberg and Scorsese [Martin Scorsese], and Coppola [Francis Ford Coppola], even if he seems to have ceased making films, and Steven Soderbergh—they all have something to say, they’re passionate, they have an idealistic attitude to the filmmaking process (Wilson). Gene Hackman in THE CONVERSATION (1974). Coppola and Kubrick: Ironically, both Coppola and Kubrick, who wrote a letter to Bergman in 1960 (Marshall), are (were) both majorly influenced by Antonioni whom Bergman felt ‘’expired’’ on his way to greatness, ‘’suffocated by his own tediousness’’ (Wilson). Hm. Whatever, Bergman. I don’t know how thrilled Coppola was to hear that from his idol, as Bergman is Coppola’s ‘’all-time favourite because he embodies passion, emotion and has warmth’’. Like most of us, Coppola became enraptured with Bergman after viewing the iconic The Seventh Seal (1957) (‘’Top 10 Things You Didn’t Know About Francis Ford Coppola’’). I kind of do see the influence of Bergman on his films, more so the later ones, but even in the late ’60s-early’70s decade, I’d throw The Rain People (1969) on the table and The Conversation—mainly the atmospheric, seasonal climate shots, crumbling relationships between people, and isolation. I gather if Alfred Gulino-Waller 7 Hitchcock and Bergman somehow collaborated on a film, it would look something like The Conversation. Also mirrors. Yes, in Conversation, there are literal mirrors, labelled for all to see: Since mirrors are a huge part of Bergman’s oeuvre. Gulino-Waller 8 Now, The Rain People proceeded Scenes from a Marriage (1973) but the similarities are uncanny: And mirrors: Shirley Knight and James Caan in THE RAIN PEOPLE (1969). Not to mention the intentional out-of-focus technique exploited by Bergman’s style of student filmmaking. Gulino-Waller 9 PERSONA vs. THE CONVERSATION: [Top]: Liv Ullmann; [Bottom]: Cindy Williams. Gulino-Waller 10 Now, doesn’t this look like a shot from a Bergman film? Shirley Knight and Robert Duvall in THE RAIN PEOPLE (1969). Also, performance and memory of the conflicted characters in these two films, running themes for Bergman. Which brings me to my next topic: Mirrors, Facades and Duality: “When I look in the mirror in the morning there is no one there.” -Richard Nixon “Man must break the charm of his reflected image by accepting the reality of its unreality. If he is to make progress toward truth, he must pass beyond the ‘mirror without radiance which offers him a surface where nothing is reflected.’ “(Lacan Sincerity and Authenticity 1972) -Malcolm Bowie “Lacan” Fontana Press 1991 Bergman was no stranger to literal mirror shots as well as parallel storylines within his work. Coppola seems to have taken a few cues from the Master of Mirrors. Take The Gulino-Waller 11 Conversation, for instance. There are not only literal mirrors and shots of isolated apartments to reflect Harry Caul’s (Gene Hackman) emotional state, but there are also several characters who mirror one another: Harry’s girlfriend, Amy (a Coppola favourite, Teri Garr from Close Encounters of the Third Kind; 1977), reflects Harry’s assistant, Stanley (John Cazale), and Harry’s east coast rival, Bernie Moran (Allen Garfield) reflects Harry himself. Such as Frost the Clown (Anders Ek) and his wife, Alma (Gudrun Brost) predict the future of Anne (Harriet Andersson) and Albert (Åke Grönberg) of Sawdust and Tinsel (1953), or even how the couples of Sawdust reflect the relationship of Jof (Nils Poppe) and Mia (Bibi Andersson) of Seventh Seal. Alternatively, even the two couples of Scenes from a Marriage reflect one another. Let’s examine the relationship between Harry and Stanley, as it is one of the key moments of Conversation, and Harry’s most important relationship in the film. I was glad to know Coppola shared my vision—I arrived at the theory of the parallels between Stan and Amy—way before I listened to the DVD commentary. Once I listened to it, I was relieved to know my theories were not complete bullshit. There is, indeed, a purpose for Stan’s existence and a direct line to him and Amy. In the first scene where Harry is analysing the audio track with Stan, we randomly intercut with a flashback of Harry’s slice of life. It’s an odd placement—first time watching the film, I assumed this flashback scene to be happening in the present, something that Harry does immediately after work every day. Much like Cría Cuervos (1976), there is no obvious indication that it is a flashback, and one might assume it’s happening in the same time frame. It’s not. The film’s ‘’dietetic structure is very different from classic narrative cinema,’’ in that ‘’the sequences sent in the ‘present tense’ are apparently presented chronologically...These events are Gulino-Waller 12 episodic,’’ as the film also flashes back and forward constantly, reflecting ‘’discrete episodes’’ in paranoid Harry’s world. In this way, there is an intentional abnormality in the continuity editing, with no clear linear time or closure at the end of the film. ‘’Closer examination reveals how’’ Coppola and supervising editor Walter Murch ‘’actively worked against transparency’’ (something that becomes a part of Harry’s character), ‘’drawing attention to the complex narrative structure of the film’’ (Allinson and Jordan 61).