Sawdust and Tinsel
Directed by Ingmar Bergman
Studio: Criterion
Year: 1953
Aspect Ratio: 1.33:1
Running Time: 92 minutes
Rating: NR
Audio: Dolby Digital 1.0 Swedish
Subtitles: English
MSRP: $39.95
Release Date: November 20, 2007
Review Date: November 16, 2007
Directed by Ingmar Bergman
Studio: Criterion
Year: 1953
Aspect Ratio: 1.33:1
Running Time: 92 minutes
Rating: NR
Audio: Dolby Digital 1.0 Swedish
Subtitles: English
MSRP: $39.95
Release Date: November 20, 2007
Review Date: November 16, 2007
The Film
4/5
The first Ingmar Bergman movie I ever saw was in a film theory class, and it was his masterful Smiles of a Summer Night. Since then, I’ve managed to watch almost all of Bergman’s films made since Smiles, but my Bergman familiarity before 1955 is spotty at best, and Sawdust and Tinsel (made two years before Smiles) now fills a major gap in my Bergman education. Like Smiles, it deals with unhappy marriages and extramarital affairs. Unlike Smiles, though, the ends for the characters aren’t nearly as satisfying.
Albert Johansson (Ake Grönberg) owns and serves as ringmaster for a small circus touring southern Sweden at the turn of the 20th century. He’s desperately unhappy living from hand to mouth and feeling incredibly guilty having walked out on his wife and two boys some years before to operate this circus together with his mistress Anne (Harriet Andersson). Arriving at the town where his wife lives and operates a successful tobacconist’s shop, he wants to go and see her, perhaps attempting to rekindle their relationship. Anne, however, is outraged that their life together isn’t good enough for him and finds herself drawn to the town’s theater and leading actor Frans (Hasse Ekman).
This is Ingmar Bergman, so these sexual couplings more than likely won’t end to everyone‘s satisfaction. In fact, the film’s dual themes of sexual humiliation and the war of attrition between males and females that figure in so many of Bergman’s masterpieces got their geneses here, and it’s exciting to see such recurrent themes from later films also at play in this movie. The angst is palpable throughout from an early flashback with a moment of desperate embarrassment for the circus’ lead clown Frost (Anders Ek) to one of the most visceral beatings ever staged for a movie that doesn’t involve the sport of boxing which occurs near the end of the film.
This was the first Bergman film in which the legendary Sven Nykvist served as the cinematographer, and those deeply intensive close-ups of actors which became his and Bergman’s trademark are on full, astounding display here. How better to capture the thrilling performances of these leading players. Ake Grönberg’s dissatisfaction with his life and his aching need for change is so perceptible that it leaps from the screen. Harriet Andersson (who was having an intense affair with director Bergman at the time) radiates an unusual, insecure sexual prowess that helps us understand how she worked her way into the heart of the ringmaster. Hasse Ekman exudes a peacock’s swagger as the narcissistic actor while Anders Ek’s Frost seems dense and not quite likable. As Albert’s assured wife Agda, Annika Tretow’s steely determination makes her by far the most admirable character in the piece.
Bergman’s eye and writing talent for arresting sequences seem limitless here. In addition to that memorable opening flashback (which in some ways reminded me of scenes from a Fellini film like La Strada rather than a Bergman film) and the face-off between Albert and Frans, there is a juxtaposed pair of sequences between Albert and wife Agda while Frans is busy seducing Anne. Jumping back and forth between the civility of Albert and Agda on one hand and the carnality of Frans and Anne in the other is really breathtaking. Also gripping is the sequence following the beating with Albert tinkering with a loaded pistol. In his demeaned and drunken state, anything can happen, and what does is electrifying.
Sawdust and Tinsel may seem more soap opera-ish than some of Bergman’s later brilliant efforts and maybe the use of symbols (a circus bear, the glittering bauble) is rather too obvious, but its deeply emotional core and its somewhat bitter aura are every bit as true to Bergman’s vision as such later works of art as The Seventh Seal, The Virgin Spring, and Wild Strawberries.
Video Quality
4.5/5
The film’s original 1.33:1 aspect ratio is presented slightly windowboxed in this Criterion release. It’s for the most part a gorgeous transfer featuring a very sharp picture and very accurate grayscale. Though blacks tend to be a bit milky early on, later black levels are good and shadow detail is excellent. The early flashback features blown out whites and ramped up contrast for a deliberate effect and is not an encoding artifact. There were a couple of white scratches of short duration during the film, and a hair is evident briefly. There was also one man’s shirt whose line patterns caused some twitter in the image, but otherwise the presentation is beautiful. The white subtitles are very easy to read. The film has been divided into 21 chapters.
Audio Quality
4/5
The Dolby Digital 1.0 mono soundtrack is surprisingly bold for a film of this age, and apart from some light hiss and just a hint of distortion during some moments of screaming, this audio track is solid and free from age-related problems.
Special Features
2.5/5
For a Criterion full price release, I found the supplements somewhat on the skimpy side with this offering.
The best feature is an audio commentary by Bergman scholar Peter Cowie. Having done numerous commentaries and featurettes for previous Bergman releases, Cowie scores another solid outing with this one. His comments are learned, interesting, and well spoken, and the track is engaging throughout with only a couple of places where pauses are extended.
An introduction to the film by Ingmar Bergman (filmed in 2003) runs about 3 minutes and is in nonanamorphic widescreen.
The enclosed 21-page booklet features a review of the film by acerbic critic John Simon hailing the film a masterpiece, a celebration of the film by controversial film director Catherine Breillat, and some haunting stills.
In Conclusion
4/5 (not an average)
Criterion has produced a really dazzling transfer of a little known and little seen early film by Ingmar Bergman, and while the extras are a bit on the slim side, it nevertheless comes with a very strong recommendation.
Matt Hough
Charlotte, NC