Category: Romance

La belle saison (Summertime, France-Belgium 2015)

An early meeting of the MLF in Paris in 1971

This film was recommended to me and I’m very glad I managed to watch it on BBC iPlayer. Unfortunately it will have left when you read this, but it may be streaming elsewhere. It offers a narrative about being part of the early feminist movement in France in 1971, but presents it in the form of a lesbian romance. It’s very much a product of women’s filmmaking in France, written by Catherine Corsini and Laurette Polmanss, directed by Corsini, produced by Elisabeth Perez and photographed by Jeanne Lapoirie. The narrative is straightforward. Delphine is a young woman who has grown up on a farm in the Limousin Region of South-West Central France. It’s the least populated region in France. Delphine is clear about her lesbian identity but also aware of her parents’ wish that she would marry her childhood friend Antoine. She decides to avoid confrontation by making a move to Paris, taking a job at the retail distribution company Félix Potin and by accident meets a group of women making a street protest about women’s rights. Through this chance meeting she becomes involved with Carole, a teacher of Spanish and one of a group of feminists. There is an obvious attraction between the two and Carole will eventually leave her (male) partner for Delphine. When Delphine’s father has a stroke and she must return home, Carole decides to visit her ‘on the farm’. But can they continue their affair? What’s possible in Paris might not be accepted in rural France.

Carole and Delphine together in rural France for the first time

I enjoyed this film a great deal. One attraction was to see Cécile de France in the role of Carole. It’s a difficult role in some ways as the character’s behaviour moves between being open and supportive and sometimes being more reckless and allowing her political aims to affect her personal relationships. I think I first saw Ms de France in L’auberge espagnole (2002) in which she plays an Erasmus student. She does not seem to age and I was surprised when I realised that she was approaching 40 when she made this film. The storytelling in La belle saison doesn’t offer some of the conventional information we might expect from a story like this, so we know little of Carole’s background. How old is she meant to be? And what kind of teaching does she actually do? Is she really a free agent, able to drop everything to join Delphine? The narrative moves so swiftly and so confidently that neither of these questions occurred to me at the time. Cécile de France may be the star but the central character is Delphine played by Izïa Higelin. Ms Higelin is both an actor and a singer and in 2015 she had relatively little feature film experience – this was just her third film (her second was Samba 2014). As with Carole, it isn’t quite clear how old Delphine is meant to be. Izïa Higelin was in her early twenties when she played the role. (The film’s Press Notes suggest that Carole is 35 and Delphine is 23, but if that is stated, I missed it.)

Delphine (Izïa Higelin) is in the character most challenged by changes in the early 1970s

Why am I so obsessed with the age of the characters? I think it’s because the discourse of ‘womens rights’ in 1971 is so concerned with what women are ‘allowed’ to do. Delphine is a confident, assertive young woman in Paris, discovering that she can take part in the activities of the group which includes Carole. But back in Limousin she is aware that it is simply not done for women to act in certain ways and that if she does so she will offend her parents or alienate the other farmers (in what seems like a co-op operation), especially Antoine. Carole can be reckless, but Delphine needs to be careful – although she has the capacity to act if she thinks it through. My memories of 1971 in London seem to be more about the emergence of the Gay Liberation Front (which met for the first time at the LSE a few months after I graduated). The Women’s Movement in the UK seemed to have been around for a while and women I knew were already becoming politically active in different ways. It’s important to note that two important changes in the law in the UK were the 1967 Abortion Law Reform Act (and access to the Pill for all women via the NHS) and the 1970 Equal Pay Act meant that women in the UK were ahead of French women in these two cases.

Carole (Cécile de France) with Monique (Noémie Lvovsky). (Great cheesecloth shirt)

In France in 1970 many prominent women signed the ‘Manifeste des 343 salopes’, claiming to have had an illegal abortion themselves, while also demanding the legalisation of abortion. The Bobigny affair (and trial) in 1972 saw many people including the new feminist movement (MLF), come to the support of five women (and their lawyer, Gisèle Halimi) who were tried for helping a teenage girl to have an abortion. During the May ’68 events, scholars have suggested that women engaged in the uprisings saw the positive opportunities for challenging the established sexual order, but also the negatives in terms of male activists not prepared to change their attitudes and behaviour towards female comrades. As a result, the development of MLF (Mouvement de Libération des Femmes) arose from the coming together of women’s groups established in the late 1960s. This issue is there in the views expressed by some of the women in the MLF meeting represented in La belle saison.

In 2018 I taught an evening class alongside Dr. Isabelle Vanderschelden, French Section Lead at Manchester Metropolitan University, and the historical details outlined above came from our notes. Isabelle used a clip from La belle saison and told us that:

The film’s characters are named after two emblematic feminists of the 1970s: the actress and filmmaker Delphine Seyrig and the experimental filmmaker Carole Roussopoulos, who founded together in 1982 the ‘Centre audiovisuel Simone de Beauvoir’, whose main objective was to collect, produce and broadcast films and audiovisual documents on the rights, struggles and artistic creation work of women.

Isabelle also added that:

Corsini also wants to place the film in the context of social events in 2010s France – including the ‘mariage pour tous’ debates and the legislation of 2013 in France which enabled same sex marriage.

This ties in with some of the comments made by Catherine Corsini (b. 1956) in the Press Notes when asked why she chose to set Summertime in the 1970s:

I really wanted to pay tribute to feminist women, who have often been vilified, called sex-starved neurotics . . . For years I haven’t really been a true feminist myself, I almost agreed with that vision of them. But I quickly came to realise that I owed many of the benefits I live by today to these women who fought and campaigned for them. Many of them were homosexual. Thanks to this movement, they were finally able to make themselves heard. Actually, the homosexuals have really been instrumental in the emancipation of women in general. I was appealed to by the vitality, the audacity of the feminist movement. I don’t see anything quite similar today. I realised that feminism puts the human element first, and it has been the main principle in the writing of the film.

This was the first film that Catherine Corsini made with her partner Elizabeth Perez on board as producer. The film certainly celebrates the lesbian romance. The cinematography captures the beauty and joy of working in the rural landscape in ‘la belle saison’ and especially when the couple’s lovemaking is depicted outdoors as well as in the bedroom. There may be too much flesh on display for some viewers (based on some user comments I’ve seen online) but I didn’t find it gratuitous. More interesting is Carole’s relationship with Delphine’s mother Monique (Noémie Lvovsky). Carole is motivated by both simple goodwill in enjoying working with Monique, but also by her wish to promote the idea that women can run farms and be leaders in the community. This illustrates the basis for tension in the household as Delphine recognises that she can’t push too hard. The men in the film who are ‘personalised’ (as distinct from those who are physically attacked by the MLF group) are not criticised as such. They are seen as having to deal with what is happening. But the narrative isn’t really interested in them as actors in this particular story.

Antoine (centre, Kévin Azaïs) has to come to terms with Delphine’s decisions

The narrative resolution of La belle saison is ‘open’ with an optimistic sense of looking forward but it isn’t a conventional ‘happy ending’. The film is nostalgic for those of us who lived through the period and I certainly responded to the long hair and those cheesecloth shirts that took me back to the early 1970s. (Also the Janis Joplin tracks – see the trailer below.) I can understand some of the criticisms of the film but I think that Catherine Corsini succeeded in doing what she set out to do. If you agree and you enjoy this film I would also recommend Corsini’s earlier and later films Partir (Leaving 2009) and Un amour impossible (An Impossible Love 2018), both reviewed on this blog.

Portrait of a Lady on Fire (Portrait de la jeune fille en feu, France 2019)

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Utopian space

I was relieved to get to see this the day before the cinemas closed. The buzz has been about for months and the film exceeded my expectation. It has been a brilliant year in the cinema so far (well, that may be the end of it) with Little WomenWeathering With You, So Long, My Son, ParasiteBacurau and Lillian all fabulous cinematic experiences; Portrait of a Lady on Fire tops them all.

Unusually, the Anglophone distributors’ title is better than the original because ‘lady’, rather than ‘girl/woman’, suggests the film is about social class as well as gender. It also references Henry James’ novel, adapted by Jane Campion (UK-US, 1996) as her follow up to her feminist classic The Piano (New Zealand-Australia-France, 1993). We’re straight into Piano territory at the start of writer-director Céline Sciamma’s new film; she won ‘best screenplay at Cannes’. Marianne (Noémie Merlant) arrives at an island on the Breton coast and is dropped off on her own on the beach. Unlike Ada in The Piano, Marianne’s art is her painting, which she has to jump into the sea to save. She’s been hired by La Comtesse (Valeria Golino) to paint her daughter in order to guarantee a marriage to a wealthy Milanese ‘gentleman’. The daughter Héloïse (Adèle Haenel, also in Water Lilies) – surely named for the 12th century proto-feminist nun – refuses to be painted; she’s been hauled out of a nunnery after her sister’s suicide. Presumably her sister killed herself to avoid the fate awaiting Héloïse. Marianne has to pretend to be Héloïse’s companion and paint her at night.

What follows is a patient development of their relationship and, to an extent, with the maid Sophie (Luàna Bajrami – seen in School’s Out). There’s too much going on in the film to delve deeply into it after just one viewing. Sciamma (whose Water Lilies (Naissance des pieuvres, France, 2007) and Girlhood I quite liked; the latter received ‘rave’ reviews) allows her camera to be still, allowing the superb actors to take the weight of the narrative; the production design, by Thomas Grézaud, and Clare Mathon’s (of Atlantics) cinematography are fabulous. This stillness evokes portraiture which, of course, is one of the themes of the film: the representation of a person and, more specifically, a woman. The ‘female gaze’, men are virtually absent, is paramount in the film and Sciamma’s ‘queer eye’ offers a different way of eroticising the female body (though in a Guardian interview she says they didn’t get it in France). The key to understanding representation is knowing ‘who is speaking’ and here the voice, Sciamma’s obviously but also the characters’, is indisputably female. In contrast Blue is the Warmest Colour reveals itself as male fantasy. The film also manages to deal with the erasure of women artists from art history: it is a very rich text indeed!

Some of the specifically female things we don’t usually get to see in cinema are shown: period pains and abortion. Sophie has the latter and Héloïse demands Marianne look; in effect chiding the spectator at the same time because ‘not looking’ is an attractive option. Unusually for melodrama Sciamma ‘dials down’ the emotion in much of the film, the characters are virtually taciturn, but in this scene a baby plays with Sophie’s face during the operation to emotionally devastating affect. The repressed emotions serve to heighten the moments when the ‘dam breaks’, including one of the most emotionally draining final shots I’ve ever seen.

Sciamma’s use of music is fascinating as I didn’t notice any non-diegetic (on the soundtrack) music, though two composers are credited. Early in the film Marianne tries to play the storm sequence from Summer (Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons) on a clavichord (I think); the payoff for this is in the aforementioned last shot. The other music is an apparent folk song (actually created by Sciamma) of the local female peasantry at a bonfire. The modernity of the chants suddenly breaks the diegesis (narrative world) of the 18th century as timeless sexual attraction between the protagonists is at last acknowledged by them.

I’ve already praised Mathon’s cinematography: she makes some of the scenes look like paintings and one where the lady, Héloïse, is doing the food prep whilst the maid embroiders is a startling utopian image. The utopian possibility is explained by the isolated setting on an island and many scenes on the beach, which is a liminal space where change is possible.

Portrait of a Lady is a truly great film and is available online at Curzon Home Cinema.

GFF20 #7: James vs His Future Self (Canada 2019)

Anglophone Canadian films are quite difficult to find in the UK (as distinct from Québécois films) so finding them in a festival is always a bonus. This title promised to offer some light relief from the heavier diet of arthouse fare in the rest of the programme. It was described in the brochure as an SF-romcom and that’s indeed what it turned out to be. It isn’t heavy on the science but the scenario does provide a slightly different take on the romcom, though there are one or two elements shared with the Tamil blockbuster Endhiran (2010) and various US time travel narratives.

James (Jonas Chernick) has long been obsessed with his own ideas for time travel, so much so that he has never properly developed a relationship with his fellow researcher Courtney (Cleopatra Coleman) and he still needs his wild younger sister Meredith (Tommie-Amber Pirie) to keep his daily life on track. He and Courtney work as researchers at a facility headed by Dr. Rowley (Frances Conroy). James believes he is close to a breakthrough in creating time travel technology but several other deadlines/crisis points are looming and both Meredith and Courtney are likely to abandon him if he doesn’t take action. At this point he is abducted by an older man masquerading as a taxi driver. He is shocked to discover this is his future self ‘Jimmy’ (as played by Daniel Stern who has a lot of fun with this role).

James meets Jimmy

When James meets ‘Jimmy’, the science behind the idea of time travel gradually gets lost. Though there is some resemblance between the characters, Jimmy is taller and his facial features slightly ‘pulled out’ – apparently as a result of time travel. More significantly, Jimmy is a livelier, more mischievous and more cynical character than James. What does he want? He certainly wants to stay around for a while and he meets and charms Courtney. He also has the answers to the questions James has been struggling over, but he isn’t going to provide them just yet. In fact he may be trying to stop James making the discovery at all. His message for James seems to be ‘learn to live a little’. Everything finally depends on a new deadline. Dr. Rowley announces a funded scholarship which will send Courtney to Switzerland (cue race to the airport in best romcom style?) Meanwhile, James discovers that Dr. Rowley has a vital piece of kit she has been keeping secret. But will Jimmy try to stop him accessing it?

James with Courtney

The problem for Anglo Canadian filmmakers is that they inhabit a world dominated by Hollywood film and TV programmes. Hollywood makes many films and TV series in Canada and Canadians watch a lot of US TV programming – it’s a coloniser-colonised situation. It’s a world I don’t really know and therefore it is interesting to read some of the North American reviews of this film. Cleopatra Coleman is Australian and Daniel Stern is American but still there is something about the film that makes it feel ‘Canadian’. It appears to have been shot in Sudbury, Ontario and there is that calm openness with just the hint of possible weirdness that means it isn’t likely to be American. I enjoyed the film. At times it is quite funny and I liked the characters. The narrative has some warmth and the script by Chernick and director Jeremy LaLonde avoids some of the pitfalls of the genre. Daniel Stern gives the film its energy and Cleopatra Coleman is a joy. I doubt it will ever appear in UK cinemas but perhaps on Amazon or Netflix? (See comments below)

GFF20 #1: Merrily We Go to Hell (US 1932)

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My Glasgow Film Festival stint this year started with a sparkling DCP of a pre-code classic directed by Dorothy Arzner. This screening launched the festival’s mini-strand of ‘Women Make Film’, designed to complement the 5 part Mark Cousins documentary with that title which is screened this weekend.

Fredric March plays Jerry, a gifted newspaper columnist in Chicago with a drinking problem who meets the heiress Joan Prentice played by a young and beautiful Sylvia Sidney. She doesn’t drink and has an over-protective father who isn’t keen on the relationship. But Joan and Jerry are determined and with the help of Jerry’s drinking buddies they manage to get married and Jerry settles down to write plays. When one is accepted by a producer everything seems to be going too well and, sure enough, problems arise when the leading lady of his play turns out to be an old flame or rather the old flame Claire, played by Adrianne Allen. This character intrigued me as Ms Allen was born in Manchester and may have travelled to the US for this role. She spent most of her later career on the English stage and was at one time married to Raymond Massey and mother to both Daniel and Anna.

Fredric March and Sylvia Sidney with Cary Grant

Adrianne Allen is not the only British interloper since Cary Grant has an early Hollywood role as the leading man in the play. Claire’s return to Jerry’s life causes him to start drinking again and to alienate Joan. But Joan decides that the only way to respond to Jerry’s drinking and his renewed interest in Claire is to start drinking and partying herself in a ‘modern, open’ marriage. It can’t end well and in fact the ending of the narrative is quite down and realistic even if it still manages some Hollywood conventions.

In his introduction, Alan Hunter filled in some of Dorothy Arzner’s career details. Arzner’s work is not as easily available to view as it should be and GFF has done a good job in making this film available on the big screen. As well as Arzner’s handling of the actors and the choreography of the action, I was impressed by David Abel’s camerawork with its lively feel and use of bold images that reminded me of both German and Soviet cinema of the 1920s. These pre-code films are often much more dynamic than might be expected for still relatively early sound cinema — the technology was developing quickly.

The over-protective father (George Irving)

The shock of the film in terms of the coming Production Code is in the realistic representation of drinking culture and the view of a marriage in which the partners openly display their infidelity during social gatherings. Films like this still feel ‘modern’. The code had a damaging effect on adult stories in Hollywood, though it did bring out the ingenuity of filmmakers.

Queen & Slim (US 2019)

This photo, taken ‘diegetically’ in the narrative, has been used in promotions for the film

Queen & Slim is a début feature film for Melina Matsoukas working with the prolific writer Lena Waithe, the first African-American woman to win a ‘comedy writer’ Emmy for her work on the series Master of None (2015). Waithe was also a producer on Dear White People (US 2014). Matsoukas has had a long career as a music video director topped by her contribution to Beyoncé’s Lemonade. It’s not surprising then that two such talented women should enable Jodie Turner-Smith to create the character ‘Queen’. It’s a terrific performance and with Daniel Kaluuya as ‘Slim’ they make a memorable couple.

The film came to the UK with some glowing reviews after its US release in November 2019, but there was little UK promotion – at least from my perspective – and I didn’t really know what to expect. But there were two reasons I wanted to see it. First, I knew that it begins with an altercation between a white police officer and the black couple after he stops their car with the result that they are forced to go ‘on the run’ with every police force looking for them. This links directly to the earlier The Hate U Give (US 2018) which I have worked on as a possible study text. There is also a later incident the film that directly links the two films as well. Second, I read somewhere that the narrative in some way references the idea of the ‘Underground Railroad’ by which slaves were able to escape from plantations and eventually to get to Canada in the pre-Civil War period. This was recently the central part of the story of Harriet Tubman in Harriet (US 2019).

The first meeting in a fast-food restaurant

Queen & Slim begins in Cleveland, Ohio when two people meet on a Tinder date. It isn’t going terribly well (neither character has a name as yet) and they have only known each other for a short time when their car is pulled over. What follows is perhaps best presented as a mash-up of Bonnie and Clyde (1967) with It Happened One Night (1934). If that sounds unlikely note that both these classic films are road movies. In one a bunch of ‘outlaws’ rob banks during the Great Depression, become media celebrities and are often admired by people whose savings and land have been ‘grabbed’ by those same banks. In the other, a man and a woman meet on a bus travelling to New York and somehow fall in love despite their differences.

In Queen & Slim, the couple make their way South and have a series of adventures on their way to Florida from where they hope to get to Cuba. They become ‘Queen’ and ‘Slim’ when they attempt to change their appearance at Queen’s Uncle Earl’s house. It’s at this moment perhaps that the film’s approach becomes clear (or rather, is confirmed). This isn’t strictly a ‘Hollywood realism’ film. There are moments when the characters do unexpected or plain stupid things which place them in more danger. Just one example – when they change clothes, Queen chooses a micro-dress which is so short it reveals the bandage on her thigh. Slim selects an outfit I don’t know how to describe but which appears to deliberately ‘type’ him. A little later they agree to be photographed and the resultant image is used on the film’s poster. Nick Lacey commented to me that the image is both striking but also possibly plays on the typing of both African-American men and women.

Queen’s Uncle Earl (Bokeem Woodbine) and his ‘Goddess’ (Indya Moore)

The Bonnie and Clyde tag is applied to the couple by one of the characters and it soon becomes clear that wherever they go in the South, African-Americans (and some white people) know who they are but still help them avoid the police. The Underground Railway reference is also clear when the couple are hidden in a clever way during a police search. These attitudes towards the ‘fugitives’ are also linked to various discourses about how working-class Americans (again mostly but not solely African-Americans) have been treated by government policies and institutional racism.

This is a long film (132 mins) and many commentators have argued that it is too long for the material. I don’t agree, I was engaged throughout and I felt I grew to know the characters. The film was shot, on film, by the British DoP Tat Radcliffe who shares a background with the director in music videos, but who has also worked on action features such as ’71 (UK 2014). Almost the whole film was shot on location in and around Cleveland and New Orleans. The film looks good in a ‘Scope frame and Radcliffe tells us (in this Kodak piece) that in the first part of the film, the camera is often static or ‘locked’ but towards the end there is much more Steadicam work. Radcliffe praises the director’s eye for detail and I was impressed by the use of landscapes and the detail of neighbourhood scenes. Too often Hollywood films seem to show the same nondescript city environments but this felt different (because of the New Orleans location, I couldn’t help thinking about Easy Rider (1969), a film with several similar elements).

A production shot with director Melina Matsoukas

One of the most enjoyable scenes in the film for me is a quick visit to a roadside bar with a live blues band. The band are fantastic and at this stage we are still surprised that everyone knows who this couple are – and Queen and Slim are still learning about each other. The music throughout the film is interesting, but I’m not really competent to comment on much of it. IMDB seems to have failed to find the music credits but lists of the songs and the artistes are available. I still can’t find who plays the live music in the bar. Does anybody know?

I’ve seen a negative comment about the fact that once again the leads in an African-American film are Brits. Jodie Turner-Smith was born in Peterborough but has lived in the US for some time and appeared in US film and TV productions. Daniel Kaluuya must be getting fed-up with this. Cynthia Erivo was also caught up with this kind of comment about her role in Harriet. I’m not sure whether her Oscar nomination  improved matters. I don’t really understand this. Brits have always been part of Hollywood casting. Perhaps it is part of a commentary about roles for black actors in both the UK and US. There are far more opportunities in the US so it isn’t surprising Brits are often keen to go over.

Queen and Slim is an excellent début and definitely a film worth looking up.

The trailer below reveals quite a few aspects of the plot and a couple of the best gags.

A Lesson in Love (En lektion i kärlek, Sweden 1954)

Gunnar Björnstrand as David and Eva Dahlbeck as Marianne on the train together

MUBI promoted this film as a Bergman comedy. I might have managed the occasional wry smile, but no laughs I’m afraid. But that isn’t to say that the film is of no interest. It has many of the elements that became familiar for me in watching Bergman’s early work. The narrative features another train journey during which there are several flashbacks to earlier in the marriage of David (Gunnar Björnstrand) and Marianne (Eva Dahlbeck). Interior scenes are generally studio-bound but there are several location-shot sequences, mostly in Scania and Copenhagen. During the train journey, Bergman himself, wearing a beret, is seen reading a newspaper. So far, so good, but not so good from my point of view is a shift to the lives of the moneyed middle-classes. However, the two leads are strong and this film sees a third role for Harriet Andersson in a Bergman film. Bizarrely, this film comes after Summer With Monika (1953) in which Andersson plays slightly younger than her real age (she was born in 1932). In A Lesson in Love the 21 year-old Andersson played the 14 year-old daughter of the central couple. Somehow she is believable in the role.

Marianne shows her bruises in the flashback scenes covering her marriage to David

The set-up is simple. David and Marianne have been married for 15 years and have two children, Nix (the Andersson character) and her younger brother Pelle. They have long since passed the point of the ‘Seven Year Itch’ and David, a gynaecologist, has been having affairs with his patients. Marianne seems aware of this and is arranging to meet an old male friend in Copenhagen. David gets wind of what she is up to and secretly plans to get on the same train and play the game of meeting Marianne for the first time. The flashbacks then show us how the couple first got together and also how they recently compared their marriage to the 50 year marriage of David’s parents during a visit to his parental home on his father’s 73rd birthday. The final section of the narrative is played out in Copenhagen.

Presumably the ‘lesson’ is for both David and Marianne, requiring them to think about how their marriage has developed and whether its problems are universal or caused by the failings of both partners. Certainly the treatment of Pelle (ignored most of the time) and Nix (a tomboy who challenges the couple’s conformity – something they wouldn’t accept) is an issue they need to discuss. The general feeling among Bergman fans, most looking back to an early work by a proven auteur, is that this is a minor but entertaining work. It also bolsters the autobiographical aspects of Bergman as auteur. By this stage he was on his third marriage (out of five) and was having an affair with Harriet Andersson which today makes him seem a little creepy. But I guess it should make him aware of what certain kinds of marriage can be like.

Father and daughter in their own sequence. Gunnar Björnstrand is wearing a Bergman beret

As part of my attempt to understand Bergman, his body of work and his critical status, I’ve acquired a copy of Robin Wood’s Movie/Studio Vista book simply titled Ingmar Bergman and published in 1969. I wanted to get a feel of how a respected film scholar viewed Bergman in the 1960s. Wood places the film in the context of two later films, Smiles of a Summer Night (1955) and Wild Strawberries (1957)which feature some of the same lead actors. He pointed out in 1969 that A Lesson in Love was under-rated and deemed lightweight by many critics. Wood makes several interesting points. First, following what was then a standard approach, he suggests that the narrative lacks coherence and ‘stylistic unity’ and that the various flashbacks are hung on what he perceives as a ‘trivial’ central narrative line, the rail journey. Later he also points out that the film begins and ends with figures moving on a music box – a perhaps clumsy reference to the main characters and their ‘dances of love’? He argues that the chronology of the marriage is very hard to follow, even after several viewings. A further weakness he suggests is that the Ernemann family is never seen together in their own home and that apart from the parents’ relationship, the only other relationship shown in the family is that of father and daughter. Poor Pelle barely features and Marianne doesn’t come across (to Wood) as the mother of her daughter. Yet despite all this, Wood suggests:

Its air of relaxation, of not taking itself seriously, though it helps to account for the weaknesses, brings with it compensating strengths. It is notable among Bergman’s works for its freedom and spontaneity of invention, its emotional richness, warmth and generosity, its effortless flexibility of tone. (Wood 1969: 62-3)

These strengths, Wood suggests are a good corrective to the view that Bergman is best represented by films like Sawdust and Tinsel (1953) or The Seventh Seal 1956. This certainly seems valid to me. My problem with Bergman’s films from the 1960s onwards is that they seem cold and emotionless. I would add to Wood’s analysis that there is a sense here that Bergman is following or borrowing from the romantic comedies of both the UK and Hollywood. I suspect that Bergman’s auteurist followers have never given much credence to the importance of genre (unless it is via references to Woody Allen’s takes on Bergman) and especially the ‘rom-com’ which, in its various guises, including the screwball comedies of the late 1930s and 1940s, includes many of the devices that Bergman includes here. I think you can argue that this film is a narrative of ‘re-marriage’ in which the two leads have to discover why they married in the first place. Most of my enjoyment in the film comes from the two performances by Eva Dahlbeck and Gunnar Björnstrand. It occurs to me that they have something of the chemistry of a couple like Irene Dunn and Cary Grant in My Favourite Wife (1940). What A Lesson in Love doesn’t have is the ‘coherence’ of a Garson Kanin film with a script idea from Leo McCarey. The suggestion by Wood is that the workaholic Bergman produced a script during a rare period of relaxation with Andersson – a script in which various ideas were linked together without too much concern for narrative structure. That seems about right and confirms for me the idea that studio control and being asked to direct someone else’s script isn’t always a bad idea.