Cries and Whispers

A long time ago, during my first year of university, I attempted to give out the impression that I actually knew something. The class was English 101, not really a heavy-duty course; everybody had to take it, as it was essentially concerning the basics of grammar and on how to write essays. Stuff that I still haven’t perfected, as any half-wit could probably discern from reading any of my reviews. In any case, my attempt at intellectual snobbery came to a head when I decided, just for the hell of it, that I would write a paper on Ingmar Bergman and his movies, specifically Cries and Whispers and Persona. Not being as much a critical thinker as I am now (although it’s hard to say how much I’ve advanced), I read a lot of the essays about Bergman, and took them at their word, sort of. So here I was trying to explain all this baloney about these films being misogynist and the like, without really understanding whether or not this was really true. I also saw these films, of course, and I wasn’t able to enjoy Persona (proving that I really wasn’t an artsy intellect, at least not at the time), but I was able to get something out of Cries and Whispers, although I didn't understand that one either. Amazingly, I got a fairly good mark for the paper, probably because the professor was amazed that I knew Bergman. If only I had the paper in front of me; there’d probably be some priceless quotes in there that I could share.
I know now that I don’t know anything, but at least I can say with certainty that I got a lot more out of Cries and Whispers a few days ago, then I did seven years ago. It is a truly bizarre, strange movie, but it is one of Bergman’s best, without a doubt.

The story involves three sisters, Agnes, Maria, and Karin, as well as their maid, Anna; all of whom live in a large, fancy manor (this story seems to take place in the late 1800’s, at least from the cues we get; there’s nothing modern in this setting). Agnes is dying from what I guess would be tuberculosis. The other sisters deal with this situation in their own way, but what is obvious to anyone is that Anna, the servant, seems to be more devoted to Agnes than any of the sisters.
The film devotes itself to many flashbacks, which don’t really serve a plot, but merely give us glimpses as what these people are about. Agnes, as a child, felt jealous of her mother, because she felt that she was devoting too much of her attention and love to Maria. Maria is basically a big flirt, fooling around with the doctor, even as her own husband pathetically attempts suicide. And Karin is tightly wound and repressed, emotionally, and, as it turns out, sexually, which she demonstrates to her husband in a bizarre and gruesomely unforgettable moment.

What this movie really is, is a cruel and cynical portrait, especially when it comes to Maria and Karin. Maria and Karin are shown to have grave difficulties of the psyche. Maria is a shallow flirt, in more ways than one. She only is able to open up to people sexually and/or physically, but not emotionally. She plays the game of being open and caring, but when mortality (or any sort of raw despair) stares her in the face, she backs off. The shot of the weak attempt at suicide by the husband is important; she just looks at him, as he cries for help (it seems clear that he’s hurting far more in the psyche than in the body), before murmuring in denial and running off. She is seen as a fake.

Karin is closed off in general, and is repressed when it comes to anything physical. Just as she is ashamed of her sexuality to the point where she maims it, she is ashamed of the physicality of death. Yet she does respond to what seems to be like a genuine show of feeling -- only to be betrayed the next day (and no, it’s not what you think.)

The fear of mortality, and of the physical in general, come to a head in a truly bizarre moment which I shouldn’t reveal, except to say that by this time, Agnes is already dead (this probably isn’t much of a revelation, since it happens not even halfway through the film), and also that it is difficult to say whether this is meant to be “real”, a dream, or just a surreal fancy embarked upon by the director.

As in most Bergman films, religion also plays a part, and there is a very good scene when the minister performs the private service. He quotes his typical funeral speech, before going into a genuinely personal speech, in which he says, basically, that Agnes was lucky to go to heaven, and that she can vouch for the rest of us who have to stay on this miserable planet. He says this in a way which makes it clear that he really means this.

Anna, the servant, is also a clearly spiritual being, although she seems like a stereotype of the meek and quiet woman, in servitude not just to these women but also to God. This, in spite of the fact that Bergman mixes in the sensual with the spiritual, apparently, in the scenes in which she cares for Agnes. One shot: when Agnes is in pain, Anna comforts her, by loosening up her blouse and allowing her to rest on her naked bosom.

Some people will find this film boring, that’s for sure. It’s confusing to a first time viewer, I think (well, I was confused when I was a first time viewer); the story is all in the characters personalities, and Bergman exposes these characters through scenes that tamer directors would not touch. Such scenes could be seen as surreal, or bizarre, or confusing, or perhaps even stupid, if you do not go for these foreign films. I do not find this film stupid, by any means, although it’s definitely surreal, bizarre, and somewhat confusing, although if I were to watch it again, I will probably come closer to understanding it.
The film is, also, pretty slow, and filled with stately images. It’s the definition of an art film. But anyone who has seen a lot of movies will be able to tell the difference between a filmmaker who is wasting film in an attempt to be artsy and a filmmaker who puts these shots in for a reason. Bergman, luckily, is in the latter category. There really isn’t anything here that feels out of place, even though the film is far from fast-paced.

It’s difficult to really say that “Yes, I liked Cries and Whispers!”. Rather difficult, wouldn’t you say? After watching all this physical, sexual, and emotional torment, could you say to the guy next to you, wow, I really liked that movie, as you might say, wow, I really liked Bring it On? Didn’t think so. And when you compare this film to even other Bergman films, like Wild Strawberries, or even Shame, you will realize that those earlier films are probably a little more easier to get into. Yet this movie is still his best, because Bergman just goes all out, telling a story his own way, without sticking to the rules. Cries and Whispers isn’t any fun, but it represents an artist at his peak.

Rating: ***1/2

Back to movies

Back home