the audience applauded

I really don't get the hype.

Excellent, a Must See

It is interesting even when nothing much happens, which is for most of its 3-hour running time. Read full review

This "chamber film" by Ingmar Bergman (whose name is a quote in the Christian bible) has just four characters: a writer (Gunnar Bjornstrand), his schizophrenic daughter Karin (Harriet Andersson), Karin's husband, Martin (Max von Sydow) and Karin's teenage brother, Minus (Lars Passgard). With the exception of Passgard, all the other three are Bergman regulars, having appeared in many of his films.The movie happens in a single day period in an isolated island, and it's basically about how Karin goes from being relatively normal at the beginning to absolutely crazy 24 hours later, and the reaction of the three people around her. The Bjornstrand character, for instance, feels guilty about his daughter madness, though we now know that upbringing has little influence on mental illness. Also, her descent into madness is so rapid during the movie (though we are told that she has been in a mental institution before) that perhaps is not very believable. Also hard to accept are the solemn lines the characters spout about the "silence of God". Of course, many people have thoughts about existential issues like this, they just don't talk about them in such solemn manner. Of all the major directors Bergman was the one whose background in the theater was more obvious. In some of his movies, like this one, this stage background makes a little more of "noise".So this is a worthwhile film, but not in my opinion among Bergman's best: At about the same time he did with Bjornstrand Winter Light which is somewhat lesser known, perhaps, but far better.

As usual with Ingmar Bergman's movies, the power of imagery, its meticulous attention on shadows and lightning have such an effect on eyes, a second viewing becomes an absolute necessity for the distracted mind, and the second effect is so mind-blowing, any use of words becomes pointless.Words and images, light and darkness, harmony lies in pair in Bergman's films and "Through a Glass Darkly" is no exception. The pairing pattern works for faces as the film rarely shows one person in the screen, always two. Four major protagonists are always interacting in pairs. We draw our personal circle, says David (Gunnar Björnstrand) to his young daughter Karyn (Harriett Anderson) in order to protect ourselves from the others' secret games, and when life breaks the circle, as a defensive mechanism, we build another one. Life is made of round-trips between illusion and reality.In an earlier scene, David is confronted to Martin, Karen's husband, played by Max Von Sydow. He told him that Karyn checked into his diary and found out his secret thoughts about her disease. Although never revealed, it's clearly implied that she suffers from schizophrenia, and they're all resting in Faro Island after she spent some time in a mental hospital. Karyn is normal on the surface, but her child-like behavior while she teases her younger brother Minus (Lars Passgård) arises our suspicions. She then explains that her hearing got more accurate, she's awaken up by noises of birds and animal, and is even capable to hear some voices speaking to her from a wallpaper and announcing the arrival of God. Karyn's life, so far, feels like a one-way ticket to a world of illusions.And according to Martin, Karyn's disease is 'relatively incurable'. What is 'relatively'? Is it a light of hope, a euphemism or God having pity of one of HIS firmest believers? Anyway, David only reacts as a writer; he sees an opportunity to fill his mental block, which Martin explicitly condemns. David can barely hide is guilt and his reactions sound like admittance. It's simply amazing how a simple conversation put answers to all the interrogation left in the set-up. Why is David so estranged to his family? Why, after a long trip to Switzerland, he plans another world-traveling period? It might be part of his situation as a successful author, but it doesn't fool anyone, these travels are his escape from reality. According to his personal vision, David drew his personal circle from his reluctance to face the reality of his daughter's sickness, of his boy's unease with the adult world. On the other hand, Martin, is the most compassionate and disinterested protagonist, although Karyn can't bring him sex and happiness, he loves her, and tries desperately to reach her, while witnessing the disintegration of her mental state. David, however, asks him whether he can control his inner feelings, to which Martin retorts that he's too simple and human for that. Is he? Wouldn't he secretly wish for her wife to die in peace, and put an end to a pointless anguish, and wish what would be more of an act of mercy from God?Bergman's started his 'chamber' trilogy with a film whose themes echo his eternal torments, not existential on a personal but on a binary level, how can two people understand each other's condition, how can one break the other's circle? But this is not a philosophizing film, for the simple reason that it is a film and film is an art of imagery and emotions. Bergman, a natural-born playwright, uses a family island, some rooms and an attic as the setting of people's torments. Examine some crucial scenes, two faces are on the screen, looking in different directions, both lit by lights from different sources, as if the source of one's truth was a secret impossible to reach.This device, from the cinematographer and genius Sven Nykvist would culminate with the iconic shots of Bibi Anderson and Liv Ullman half-faces forming one in "Persona". But if "Persona" showed that the line between two souls could be opened, it's this impenetrability that shows in "Through a Glass Darkly". And the narrative is mostly pessimistic on Karyn's case, she's not trapped in a circle, but has a foot in reality, and one in the 'other' one, from which some voices whisper and announce her the imminent intervention of God. This is perhaps one of the greatest enigmas that tormented Bergman, the filmmaker, the existence of God, and the alienating effect of the intellectual and emotional efforts to reach him. Maybe the secret is to find God within the world you exist in, rather than the outside world. Again, as painful and troubling as life is, it's still life. The movie ends with a heart-to-heart discussion between David and his son, both trying to find out the roots of salvation, how to get accommodated with reality. Maybe the essence of life is love, and this is where God must be found out. Love in the broadest meanings, from a brother, a father, a lover or a husband …it's all about approaching our vision of love. There are many interrogations left, notably a controversial moment between Karyn and Minus with many incestuous undertones. Maybe this was another misguided attempt to find love, in the most awkward way, something so unexplainable that even the Master explored it carefully, leaving up to us to see "through the glass", the magic class of his camera.One night, my wife wanted to play to a game of impossible choices. She asked me: what if I had the choice between fulfilling all my dreams, becoming an acclaimed and distinguished filmmaker but losing her love. Like in a Bergman film, my silence said so many words that no answer mattered anymore. I knew how David during that crucial boat ride… and this is how genuinely expert on human's deepest complexities, Ingmar Bergman is, on a universal level.

The first film in director Ingmar Bergman's "faith trilogy" - to be completed several years later with "Winter Light" (1962) and "Silence" (1963) - "Through A Glass Darkly" (1961) stars Harriet Andersson as Karin, a young woman who suffers from a mental illness. This illness resembles schizophrenia, but Bergman cruelly calls it "the disease of faith", a symptom of Karin's theism.Karin habitually sees visions of God, but her visions are warped to the point of parody. Her God takes the form of a salacious spider, and later a helicopter which ferries her sputtering body to a mental hospital. Supporting the increasingly deranged Karin are three men: Karin's brother, husband and father. These men embody three very different approaches to "spirituality" or "love", each of which is contrasted with Karin's more Christian outlook. The father, for example, is a cynic, depressive and writer, and is increasingly detached from a family he loves only insofar as they provide material for his increasingly morbid novels. The husband, in contrast, is a man of science, but his rationality proves unable to cure his wife. Meanwhile, Karin's brother is a naive, budding play-write, who develops an incestuous, sexual attraction toward her. As with Bergman's other "faith" films, Karin's beliefs are mocked for being hollow and borne of delusions, but shown to be far less horrific than those of the apathetic, post faith characters who surround her.The film ends with a macabre parody of romantic, spiritual and familial love. Here, Karin's embrace by God is ushered in by incestuous sex with her brother. An angelic helicopter then lifts her, not up into heaven, but toward a psychiatric ward. Afterwards, Karin's father tells his son that the family's love for one another is proof enough of the existence of God. His words are a self defence mechanism, designed to assuage the pain of watching his family disintegrate. The son, so starved of affection and attention, then accepts the father's drivel. By the film's end, Bergman has shown not only how a love of God is often the displacement of the love we should show for one another, but how even the staunchest unbelievers summon "Gods" to bolster their fragility.Like "Through A Glass Darkly, "Winter Light", the second film in Bergman's trilogy, takes place in a cold, remote part of Sweden. Bergman's tone is austere and chilling throughout, all skies, oceans, rivers, buildings and vistas seemingly bleached and robbed of all depth. Attuned to this suffocating "nothingness" is Tomas Ericsson, a village pastor (named after Bergman's own father, a priest called Erik) who has lost his faith but continues to tend to his dwindling congregation. If Bergman's "faith trilogy" traces a movement away from shaky belief to profound existential abandonment, then "Winter Light" represents the mid-point of this journey: shaky disbelief, God's light wintry, wispy and uncertain.And so Bergman paints Tomas as a man of, not only uncertainty, but contradictions. Tomas uses his position of "divine authority" to absolve himself of blame when one member of his congregation commits suicide, whilst using his certainty that God doesn't exist, and therefore also absolute morality, as an excuse for his treatment of several woman. But the problem, the film goes on to show, isn't that God does or does not exist, but that he has always been summoned and shunted aside whenever it best suits man."Winter Light" ended with two atheists in a church, waiting for God to speak. The silence that greets them becomes the basis of Bergman's "The Silence", arguably the greatest film in his trilogy (and the precursor to his traumatising "Cries and Whispers"). Making heavy use of sound effects and little use of dialogue, the film centres on Anna, Ester and Johan, a young boy. Whether these characters are related (Lovers? Family? Friends?) is never clarified.It isn't long before Bergman is alluding to off-screen wars (expressionistic shots of tanks and war machines) and the on-screen mortality of his characters (Ester coughs blood; she's dying from Tuberculosis), all forms of human suffering which for centuries have cast doubt on the existence of God. The rest of the film then largely takes place in a hotel, which Johan explores whilst Ester remains ill and bed bound. During his explorations he will stumble across various mundane yet disturbing sights and sounds. Think the fan which is placed at Ester's bedside, ostensibly for her comfort, but with each blade spin being a reminder of helplessness. Meanwhile, the click of Johan's toy pistol echoes shadowy military vehicles, whilst typewriters and clocks sing songs of death, each tick-tock bring one closer to oblivion. There's a certain, sickening "finality" to "The Silence's" "noise".Most horrific, though, is the disguised contempt these characters have for one another, despite their seemingly unwavering love. Ester despises Anna for her good health, for the carnal pleasures she indulges in, whilst Anna apathetically views Ester as a constant inconvenience. It's a love-hate tug of war which little Johan is being indoctrinated in.And so more horrific than God's silence is our own silence, our inability to both truly connect with another human being, and to know completely what the other is thinking. Despite Ester and Anna's rituals of human connection, they remain forever apart and forever alone. Ester herself represents the "Mind", a figure of intellect and rationality (linked to Bach, is multilingual etc), while Anna represents the "Body", Bergman stressing her bodily routines (bathes, eats, sex, is facile etc). What the film shows is that Pure Reason eventually withers the body, whilst carnality, unennboled by reason, ultimately leads to similar self destruction. Bergman's cure is the film's final word: "spirit". He closes on a powerful shot of Johan, the boy's future, and dilemma, ours.8/10 – Worth one viewing. The trilogy's cinematography, by Sven Nykvist, suffocates.

No doubt Bergman finest work from my point of view till date. "We draw a magic circle and shut out everything that doesn't agree with our secret games. Each time life breaks the circle, the games turn gray and ridiculous. Then we draw a new circle and build a new defense. "how his creativity come from.ONLY GOD KNOWS IF EXIST Or HE IS . Fredrik: Father, I'm scared. When I was hugging Karin in the boat, reality was revealed. Do you know what I mean? David: I do. Fredrik: Reality was revealed, and I collapsed. It's like a dream. Anything can happen. Anything. David: I know. Fredrik: I can't live in this new world. David: Yes, you can. But you must have a support. Fredrik: What kind of support? You mean a God? Give me a proof of his existence. You can't. David: I can. But you gotta pay attention to what I say. Fredrik: Yes. I need to listen. David: I can only tell you a thought of my own hopes. It is to know that love exists for real in the human world. Fredrik: A sort of special love, I suppose? David: All kinds of it. The bigger and the smaller, the most absurd one and the most sublime one. All kinds of love. Fredrik: What about the desire for love? David: Desire and denying. Trust and distrust. Fredrik: Then love is the proof? David: I don't know if love is the proof of God's existence or if it's God itself. Fredrik: To you, love and God are the same thing. David: That thought makes me feel less empty; Makes my desperation less worse. Fredrik: Go on, dad. David: All of a sudden, emptiness turns into abundance, and desperation turns into life. It's like a temporary death's sentence strike. Fredrik: Dad... if it's like how you say it is, then God is all over Karin. We love her so much. David: Yes. Fredrik: Can't that help her? David: I think so.