Lew Crippen
Senior HTF Member
- Joined
- May 19, 2002
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I wanted to re-watch Ordet before writing much about the film. Now I’ve done so, I’ll put down a few thoughts about the film and why it particularly appeals to me. I know already that it is not a film that will appeal to everyone—or probably even to many.
Early in the film comes the only moment of humor—when the new preacher asks the patriarch of the farm, Morten Borgen what drove his son Johannes mad (at university), Borgen replies, “Soren Kierkegaard”, which I think anyone who ever had to read Kierkagaard while doing their own studies would appreciate. The more so if you were Danish, as Kierkagaard was born in Jutland, the location of Ordet of a farm family presided over by a forceful, brilliant (though formally uneducated), fiercely religious father.
Kierkagaard (the prototype of the melancholy Dane) went on to study theology at university (all of this has a point—I think) and wrote a number of philosophical books, primarily concerned with religion and how one should live ones life. In particular, many of you will have read Either/Or, his first book. If you will recall, this book presents the reader with two choices and attempts to force one to make a choice between two ways of life: the aesthetic and the ethical. I’d go on but I am fast coming to the limits of what I remember—I could no longer pass this course.
In any case, consider that Dreyer has presented us with two ways of living a Christian life in Ordet: that followed by Borgen and his family, which we may think of as a parallel to Kierkagaard’s aesthetic, where religion largely celebrates life, and the one followed by Peter the tailor and his family representing the ethical. Dreyer brings this up in several guises, one where Morten, attempting to comfort his widowed son says, …”she is in heaven”. To which the son, Mikkel famously replies, “But I loved her body too”. As an aside, I conclude that Dreyer is not necessarily in agreement with Kierkagaard (who concluded that the life of the aesthetic was unfulfilling).
For me, there is also intertwined with this theme, one that is more fundamental to the Christian religion: whether man is saved by works or faith. Here Dreyer and the film have a firm answer (and one which should only be addressed in spoilers—so I’ll leave this for the time being).
Now aside from all of the discussion on the meaning of the film, there are many things of technical interest. For example, I find the cinematography and the set designs to be simply stunning. The farmhouse interior, where most of the film occurs is precise with every object clear and distinct and placed with purpose: from the large portrait of Morten prominently displayed on the wall to clock ticking away. The lighting is outstanding. Note for example the scene where Johannes is comforting the little girl. Even though he is holding her, she is radiant, bathed in light, while Johannes’s face (and body) are in the shadows.
In fact, Johannes is not lit until the final scene, lending even more weight to his transformation.
Or consider the long, fluid takes. Dreyer’s actors move and the camera moves at a slow, languid pace, nothing is hurried and everything is revealed at precisely the correct moment.
I could go on, but I will close (this post) by noting that I am unable to watch this film which has much to tell us about faith and love without being deeply affected. For all of its difficulties, this more a film of emotion than of the intellect. But both are required for full appreciation.
Early in the film comes the only moment of humor—when the new preacher asks the patriarch of the farm, Morten Borgen what drove his son Johannes mad (at university), Borgen replies, “Soren Kierkegaard”, which I think anyone who ever had to read Kierkagaard while doing their own studies would appreciate. The more so if you were Danish, as Kierkagaard was born in Jutland, the location of Ordet of a farm family presided over by a forceful, brilliant (though formally uneducated), fiercely religious father.
Kierkagaard (the prototype of the melancholy Dane) went on to study theology at university (all of this has a point—I think) and wrote a number of philosophical books, primarily concerned with religion and how one should live ones life. In particular, many of you will have read Either/Or, his first book. If you will recall, this book presents the reader with two choices and attempts to force one to make a choice between two ways of life: the aesthetic and the ethical. I’d go on but I am fast coming to the limits of what I remember—I could no longer pass this course.
In any case, consider that Dreyer has presented us with two ways of living a Christian life in Ordet: that followed by Borgen and his family, which we may think of as a parallel to Kierkagaard’s aesthetic, where religion largely celebrates life, and the one followed by Peter the tailor and his family representing the ethical. Dreyer brings this up in several guises, one where Morten, attempting to comfort his widowed son says, …”she is in heaven”. To which the son, Mikkel famously replies, “But I loved her body too”. As an aside, I conclude that Dreyer is not necessarily in agreement with Kierkagaard (who concluded that the life of the aesthetic was unfulfilling).
For me, there is also intertwined with this theme, one that is more fundamental to the Christian religion: whether man is saved by works or faith. Here Dreyer and the film have a firm answer (and one which should only be addressed in spoilers—so I’ll leave this for the time being).
Now aside from all of the discussion on the meaning of the film, there are many things of technical interest. For example, I find the cinematography and the set designs to be simply stunning. The farmhouse interior, where most of the film occurs is precise with every object clear and distinct and placed with purpose: from the large portrait of Morten prominently displayed on the wall to clock ticking away. The lighting is outstanding. Note for example the scene where Johannes is comforting the little girl. Even though he is holding her, she is radiant, bathed in light, while Johannes’s face (and body) are in the shadows.
In fact, Johannes is not lit until the final scene, lending even more weight to his transformation.
Or consider the long, fluid takes. Dreyer’s actors move and the camera moves at a slow, languid pace, nothing is hurried and everything is revealed at precisely the correct moment.
I could go on, but I will close (this post) by noting that I am unable to watch this film which has much to tell us about faith and love without being deeply affected. For all of its difficulties, this more a film of emotion than of the intellect. But both are required for full appreciation.
) if I can find anything I disagree with. The only difference being that I don't feel compelled to watch it again. But I think that's part of having an individual reaction to this film (or to any film for that matter). Without getting too much into it, my own religious views no doubt play some part. As to the whole faith vs. works issue, I find it a false continuum, as I find both to be important and neither sufficient. I'm more into the forgiveness of God regardless of your faith or works, but that's a whole other topic. I'm also a Catholic who hasn't been to mass in a long, long time, partly because I feel no need to, partly because I get nothing out of listening to the same recitations week after week (perhaps related to why I don't think I'd get much out of rewatching Ordet?) and partly because I was raised in a liberal California church where we had anti-death penalty sermons, and here in Texas it's hard to find such a Catholic church (at least close to where I live). 
