The Passion of Anna (1969)

 Ingmar Bergman's "The Passion of Anna"

1969's "The Passion of Anna" is perhaps the most tonally bizarre film I've seen from Ingmar Bergman yet. Its characters are listless carcasses of human beings that fail to provide any sort of humanity or comfort to the viewer and Bergman's film stews in its own emptiness and self-loathing. Interspersed in the drama are cutaway scenes of the actors commenting on their own characters. It's an interesting amalgamation of a film that doesn't quite have the emotional peaks as Bergman's other films, but it certainly is perhaps one of the more unique and hard-to-define works.

It almost feels futile to even describe the plot of the film. The protagonist, Andreas, is a recently divorced man who enters into a relationship with an emotionally devastated widow. Their relationship, as well as the continued interaction with their married neighbors, is ripe with emotional unavailability. There is domestic violence, psychological manipulation and lies, and a dry sense of despair that slowly suffocates them all.

Although 1964's "All These Women" was Bergman's first film in color, "The Passion of Anna" started Bergman's streak of color that wouldn't be broken for the rest of his career. I had not seen "All These Women," so this film was my first experience with a Bergman color picture. I had never realized how much I needed it until now, however, as Bergman already seems like a master at this new visual format. His images feel so real and alive - every pore and every expression can be seen as if it were right in front of you.

I had quite a frustrating experience with this film, strictly because its characters are so frustrating. My frustration did not detract from the enjoyment of the film, however, as this seemed to be its intended purpose. Because Bergman seems to be in a tonal era, the film is all about tone. The particular tone in this case is that of malaise, bitterness, and suffocating emptiness. It's a dry piece and one that will leave a hollow afterglow.