Escenas de un matrimonio

Very talky, almost all in close ups. Like being on stage. The couple is clearly depicted early on - he's full of himself and she's subservient.

The film will try to show how their lives unraveled over the years, but strictly from dialogue in rooms, as we never meet the mistress, children, parents, or anyone else. Basically, an essay not a film, on male/female values. Bergman has made much better films.

One of Ingmar Bergman's most well known films, but also looked to be one of his most challenging (on paper at least). Part of that's because of the length. I watched the theatrical cut, which is already about 168 minutes, and there's an extended miniseries cut (which looks like the original version) that's about two hours longer.

I liked this enough to probably give the miniseries a watch at some point, probably somewhere off in the reasonably far future though. The "short" version still felt like a full experience, and went by pretty quick considering its length.

Part of what also made this film look challenging was its subject matter and minimalist style. Being about the breakdown of a marriage and shot in a very simple way, I was worried it would get dull or boring to watch, but it kept me engaged throughout.

It's the acting and writing that really make this as good as it is, and the low-key, simple visuals really help ensure the focus is on the performances and the dialogue. I even found myself liking how stark and static the feel of the film was, as it worked well with the subject matter (a few of those quick zooms didn't look great though, but maybe the effect looked less jarring at the time).

Occasionally there was a line of dialogue that felt a little forced, but that could be as a result of the subtitles filling in gaps, due to the shorter runtime of the theatrical version. But overall, the writing is pretty strong, and I like how it focused on personal issues, thoughts, and feelings, specific to the characters, as I've found in the past that some of the broader, more overtly philosophical Bergman dialogue about "life" and "society" in general doesn't always do it for me.

But in the end, this is one of the best Bergman films I've watched so far, and between this and Smiles of a Summer Night last week, I've been really enjoying diving back into his films. I've only ever seen the theatrical version of Fanny and Alexander, but it remains my favourite film of his, so I may watch the extended miniseries version of that next, to continue this successful run of Bergman films.

Originally a miniseries, it was edited down to 169 minutes. It concerns itself with Liv Ullman, a divorce lawyer, and academician Erland Josephson. Over the course of ten years their marriage breaks down. Written by director Ingmar Bergman in a reported three months, it was shot quickly; cinematographer Sven Nykvist later stated that, given its later theatrical release, he would have liked more moving shots. Given the short schedule and tiny budget, that seems impossible in retrospect. As it is, the transfer from videotape to film gives it an inconsistent look, even within individual scenes; that seems to contribute to its intimacy and subjectiveness.

I think the lack of rehearsal, and the central roles being played by two Bergman regulars give the performances a freshness and lack of polish that contribute to the truth of the movie. These are two people who change, hesitantly and unwillingly, in the throes of overwhelming emotions. The lack of polish, the enormous emotional shifts with scenes give it a documentary feel, even as the characters talk almost endlessly.

Unlike Bergman's earlier works, which are often theological musings on why G*d doesn't give us more directions, this shows two people trying to make their way in a world where G*d, if he exists, is irrelevant. It's a search for meaning without any hope of objective guide, of people trying to snatch some happiness desperately, in a existential world. It offers no grand messages, no singular route to happiness for all of humanity, just for two individuals.

... or at least until one of us has had enough, although that will more than likely be reciprocated. There's a good chance you'll recognise a lot of the characteristics, dialogue and awkwardness on show here although everybody's story is different, but it's the craft of the actors moulding the directors words and wisdom that creates a near perfect marriage made in heaven - as so many of Ingmar Bergman's films do, and as such, you'll struggle to divorce your eyes and ears from the conversation, your mind and memory from reflection.

Scent of a Woman is a 1992 American drama directed by Martin Brest, starring Al Pacino and Chris O'Donnell. The story follows Charlie Simms, a preparatory school student who takes a temporary job over Thanksgiving weekend to care for retired Army Lieutenant Colonel Frank Slade, a blind and irritable man.

Charlie, struggling with a moral dilemma at school, accompanies Colonel Slade on an unexpected trip to New York City. Throughout their journey, Slade indulges in fine dining, luxury hotels, and confronts deep emotional wounds, revealing plans to end his life. Charlie's honesty, patience, and kindness gradually draw Slade out of his bitterness. In turn, Slade helps Charlie find the courage to stand up for his principles during a critical school disciplinary hearing.

The film explores themes of honor, redemption, and personal integrity, and it features Al Pacino's iconic, Oscar-winning performance, particularly noted for the famous "Hoo-ah!" catchphrase and the unforgettable tango scene.