The Passion of AnnaRelationships are built on a foundation of trust, which in turn is built on truth. When communication disintegrates and doubts consume, the structure collapses like a house of cards. Ingmar Bergman's The Passion of Anna is a drama about a solitary man named Andreas Winkelman (Max von Sydow), who inevitably forms a relationship with a widow named Anna Fromm (Liv Ullmann), and the couple who she stays with, Elis Vergerus (Erland Josephson) and Eva Vergerus (Bibi Andersson). As his encounters with them grow, he finds himself revealing parts of himself to them, consciously or unconsciously, a process which proves painful, like ripping the shell from a turtle.
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The Passion of Anna--known simply as "The Passion" in Sweden--is often described as a "deconstructed drama". There is no musical score, and the stark story of isolation and loneliness of Andreas is shot with a natural look, not unlike a documentary. At intervals, the actors--playing themselves--are interviewed and describe how they view their characters in the film. These moments are superficially a kind of violation of the narrative maxim of "show, don't tell", but are also a commentary about the reality of these characters, and add an extra dimension to them otherwise unobtainable through conventional means. The Passion of Anna is a film about people--largely these four--and their own ways of adapting to concepts like truth and identity in a relationship. Max von Sydow's own observations of Andreas is that he sees him as a man seeking to eliminate his means of "expression", as though his isolation is both a kind of monastic vow of loneliness and a penance for his wife whose absence is never fully explained. In contrast, Liv Ullmann describes how, in her point of view, Anna is always adamantly pursuing a concept of truth and cannot rationalize when others defy her expectations of truth, the irony being that Anna is a proven liar. When the two first meet, Anna comes to use Andreas' telephone, and Andreas takes the opportunity to eavesdrop, and returns the purse she leaves behind, but not before reading a private note contained within. Anna's note is a cold rebuttal of her by her late husband, also named Andreas, who describes their relationship as fundamentally over, and this note--introduced early on--colors our perception of Anna from then on, as it does for Andreas, leaving all her testimonies and assertions about the ascendant qualities of truth suspect.
Andreas himself is not without deceit, or at least refuses to make himself vulnerable by truth. He is clearly lonely, and he invites Anna to return to use the phone again, as well as inviting a neighbor on the island, a man named Johan Andersson (Erik Hell), to stop by to visit and pick up some cough syrup. Andreas craves companionship on some level, but struggles with his own self-imposed imprisonment. When the Vergerus' invite him in for brandy when he returns Anna's purse, his excuse to evade them is flimsy, although he is later invited to join them for dinner. There is a mysterious individual who has also been committing acts of cruelty toward animals on the island, including a puppy which Andreas saves from a noose. After rescuing the hound, Andreas exclaims, "what have they done to you". His comment identifies that what he sees in the victimization of the dog, he also identifies within himself, viewing the world with a cynical perspective from hinted at past emotional trauma. Elis' hobby is photography, capturing the identities of others with his camera. He "interviews" Andreas--having him somewhat under his thumb following a loan--and observes that Andreas had done time in jail; after Elis asks him if he would bite--like a dog--Andreas' reply is ominous: "you'll find out". Neither men are sinister, but this moment reveals the parallel between Andreas and an animal like the dog, and that he is forced to repress his pain and self out of fear of vulnerability, an action anathema to managing his feelings, eating away at him from the inside.
In private, Elis reveals to Andreas that he knows that Eva had an affair with Anna's late husband; not long after, Eva comes to visit Andreas one lonely night, and her vulnerability and femininity ultimately seduces Andreas with some expediency, and the two have a brief affair. And after Anna recalls her marriage and its tragic end in a car crash to Andreas in the midst of their own blossoming relationship--one never formally established, until it is addressed by Eva to Andreas--it is clear that he is filling the role of Anna's dead husband. Andreas is virtually adopting his identity in absentia by repeating these events, his own identity falling apart in the wake of this kind of group identity. The ironic thing is that Andreas had warning that this would be inevitable via Anna's letter from the former Andreas. As Anna and Andreas' relationship continues, the subplot involving the increasingly violent acts of animal cruelty results in Johan--who himself is much like Andreas--to be persecuted as the most likely culprit based on his history of mental illness, which in turn leads to a tragic incident that shakes Andreas. It is evident that Johan was not the perpetrator, but he is assaulted and humiliated all the same by those who would also call him neighbor, whatever trust he might have had for others crumbled to ash. There is a scene where Andreas and Anna speak with black backgrounds behind them, Andreas expressing his deepest, honest feelings which he had hoped to suppress. Monologues filled with confessional exposition are not uncommon in The Passion of Anna--nor many Bergman films--but there is the sense that this scene might exist solely in the imagination of Andreas, that it is his own fantasy to come clean about his fears and anxiety, something which never seems to be purged from his soul. Compare this to the vivid dream sequence Anna shares about her own unconscious fears, leading back to the horrific car crash which claimed the lives of her husband and her son, and there is the sense that even though she is a liar, she also tells more of a kind of truth than Andreas can.
It is understood that Ingmar Bergman, a prolific filmmaker, would use his films not merely as a means of artistic expression, but as a kind of way to excise his own angst, his personal life bleeding through in his work. Made roughly in the same period as other experimental expressions of film like Persona, The Passion of Anna was a departure for Bergman, one which contained scenes--like the dinner party--with a good deal of actor-driven improvisation, giving a kind of liberating lack of rigidity to the scene and allowing the characters to be more fully explored beyond mere plot. This scene is largely for the benefit of Andreas, who observes the wine-fueled expressions of values and contemplations about life, truth, God, and so on, by his hosts and their resident guest, Anna, but also show how Andreas has stifled his own identity by remaining unusually quiet at this juncture, fear driving him. In a documentary about the making of The Passion of Anna--called Disintegration of Passion--Liv Ullmann recalls that she and Bergman were undergoing a breakup in their own relationship, a sense carried over into the film in the inevitable parallels. This film is a story about truth and love, but with the unshakable cynicism that comes with suffering the wounds of a broken heart. There is a chill which is ever present, like the cold of the northern winters, with only brief respite in the form of moments of fiery passion; but all fires burn out.
Recommended for: Fans of an experimental narrative about love and trust, and the perils and pitfalls which come with it. It is an artistic expression, a jazzy, improv riff, but far from reckless. A very personal film from an already very personal auteur.
Andreas himself is not without deceit, or at least refuses to make himself vulnerable by truth. He is clearly lonely, and he invites Anna to return to use the phone again, as well as inviting a neighbor on the island, a man named Johan Andersson (Erik Hell), to stop by to visit and pick up some cough syrup. Andreas craves companionship on some level, but struggles with his own self-imposed imprisonment. When the Vergerus' invite him in for brandy when he returns Anna's purse, his excuse to evade them is flimsy, although he is later invited to join them for dinner. There is a mysterious individual who has also been committing acts of cruelty toward animals on the island, including a puppy which Andreas saves from a noose. After rescuing the hound, Andreas exclaims, "what have they done to you". His comment identifies that what he sees in the victimization of the dog, he also identifies within himself, viewing the world with a cynical perspective from hinted at past emotional trauma. Elis' hobby is photography, capturing the identities of others with his camera. He "interviews" Andreas--having him somewhat under his thumb following a loan--and observes that Andreas had done time in jail; after Elis asks him if he would bite--like a dog--Andreas' reply is ominous: "you'll find out". Neither men are sinister, but this moment reveals the parallel between Andreas and an animal like the dog, and that he is forced to repress his pain and self out of fear of vulnerability, an action anathema to managing his feelings, eating away at him from the inside.
In private, Elis reveals to Andreas that he knows that Eva had an affair with Anna's late husband; not long after, Eva comes to visit Andreas one lonely night, and her vulnerability and femininity ultimately seduces Andreas with some expediency, and the two have a brief affair. And after Anna recalls her marriage and its tragic end in a car crash to Andreas in the midst of their own blossoming relationship--one never formally established, until it is addressed by Eva to Andreas--it is clear that he is filling the role of Anna's dead husband. Andreas is virtually adopting his identity in absentia by repeating these events, his own identity falling apart in the wake of this kind of group identity. The ironic thing is that Andreas had warning that this would be inevitable via Anna's letter from the former Andreas. As Anna and Andreas' relationship continues, the subplot involving the increasingly violent acts of animal cruelty results in Johan--who himself is much like Andreas--to be persecuted as the most likely culprit based on his history of mental illness, which in turn leads to a tragic incident that shakes Andreas. It is evident that Johan was not the perpetrator, but he is assaulted and humiliated all the same by those who would also call him neighbor, whatever trust he might have had for others crumbled to ash. There is a scene where Andreas and Anna speak with black backgrounds behind them, Andreas expressing his deepest, honest feelings which he had hoped to suppress. Monologues filled with confessional exposition are not uncommon in The Passion of Anna--nor many Bergman films--but there is the sense that this scene might exist solely in the imagination of Andreas, that it is his own fantasy to come clean about his fears and anxiety, something which never seems to be purged from his soul. Compare this to the vivid dream sequence Anna shares about her own unconscious fears, leading back to the horrific car crash which claimed the lives of her husband and her son, and there is the sense that even though she is a liar, she also tells more of a kind of truth than Andreas can.
It is understood that Ingmar Bergman, a prolific filmmaker, would use his films not merely as a means of artistic expression, but as a kind of way to excise his own angst, his personal life bleeding through in his work. Made roughly in the same period as other experimental expressions of film like Persona, The Passion of Anna was a departure for Bergman, one which contained scenes--like the dinner party--with a good deal of actor-driven improvisation, giving a kind of liberating lack of rigidity to the scene and allowing the characters to be more fully explored beyond mere plot. This scene is largely for the benefit of Andreas, who observes the wine-fueled expressions of values and contemplations about life, truth, God, and so on, by his hosts and their resident guest, Anna, but also show how Andreas has stifled his own identity by remaining unusually quiet at this juncture, fear driving him. In a documentary about the making of The Passion of Anna--called Disintegration of Passion--Liv Ullmann recalls that she and Bergman were undergoing a breakup in their own relationship, a sense carried over into the film in the inevitable parallels. This film is a story about truth and love, but with the unshakable cynicism that comes with suffering the wounds of a broken heart. There is a chill which is ever present, like the cold of the northern winters, with only brief respite in the form of moments of fiery passion; but all fires burn out.
Recommended for: Fans of an experimental narrative about love and trust, and the perils and pitfalls which come with it. It is an artistic expression, a jazzy, improv riff, but far from reckless. A very personal film from an already very personal auteur.