by R. D. Finch
With the possible exception of Alfred Hitchcock, no film director made as many great movies as Ingmar Bergman. And no director in movie history has more of a reputation for seriousness than Ingmar Bergman. Marital strife, parent-child conflict, childhood trauma, identity confusion, spiritual crisis, madness, war, above all death—think of a somber, disturbing, or depressing subject and chances are Bergman made a movie about it. Yet among all those serious films he is so well known for, in 1955 he made one of the most delightful romantic comedies ever filmed, Smiles of a Summer Night.
In Sweden, the time around the summer solstice, when it stays light nearly all night long as it does in all such northern latitudes, is a special time of year. This is a time for the celebration of fertility and the time when magic is believed to have its greatest power over humans, just as in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. In the film, which takes place sometime early in the twentieth century, we are introduced to four men and four women who come together at a rustic weekend house party in midsummer, a traditional time for losing one’s inhibitions and indulging in emotionally risky behavior. Fredrik Egerman is a self-centered middle-aged lawyer who for two years has been married to Anne, a naive 19-year old. The marriage has never been consummated because of Anne’s fear of sex, and Fredrik, who has resolved to wait until she is ready for sexual relations, is growing restive. When he learns that his former mistress, the actress Desirée Armfeldt, is in town appearing in a play, he can’t resist going to see her. Accidentally learning of her husband’s renewed interest in Desirée, Anne understandable becomes deeply upset.
Their situation is complicated by several things. Fredrik’s grown son from his first marriage, Henrik, a rather priggish, sexually inexperienced theology student, is clearly in love with his stepmother Anne. The actress Desirée’s current lover is a possessive, compulsively competitive Count and officer in the Swedish Army who is determined to humiliate Fredrik and drive him away from Desirée. His wife the Countess, a woman nearly as haughty as her husband, has been embittered by the Count’s infidelity, dismissing love as “a loathsome thing.” Completing the ensemble are the Egermans’ mischievous, highly sexed maid Petra—she has already seduced young Henrik—and the philosophical coachman she encounters during the country weekend, Frid, a man whose lustiness matches her own.
Desirée comes up with a scheme to gather all these people together at her elderly mother’s country house for a midsummer weekend party. After she has brought her players together, she then proceeds to use her sense of the theatrical and her knowledge of the psychology of love and sex to orchestrate a romantic farce in which her cast acts out an elaborate sexual game of Change Partners. Her mother plays her part by providing for her guests at the midsummer dinner a special wine reputed to have an aphrodisiac effect on those who drink it. This is the magic that bewitches the guests and allows Desirée to guide events to a felicitous conclusion in which romantic difficulties are resolved and everyone ends up paired with the appropriate sexual partner.
In Smiles of a Summer Night, Bergman takes a decidedly light-hearted view of sex and love. He presents sex as a game not to be taken too seriously, a game of pursuit and conquest analogous in the use of strategy by its players to a military campaign. Treating sex as a toy, his characters are in love not so much with the object of their desire as with the idea of love itself. For a male film writer and director, Bergman always showed unusual sympathy for the women in his movies. In Smiles of a Summer Night it’s the women who maintain a sensible attitude toward sex and love while the men, more driven by their libidos than by good sense, generally behave like fools. Left to their own devices, the males in the picture make a mess of things. It’s Desirée, conspiring with her mother and the Countess, who sorts out the muddle created by the men and manipulates the situation to the outcome that is most satisfactory for everyone.
With its complex skein of relationships and the way its characters pair off then separate, shuffle, and re-form into new pairs, this is in every sense an ensemble movie. But if pressed, I would single out three members of the cast for special attention. As Desirée, Eva Dahlbeck is intelligent, poised, and shrewd. She comes across like a goddess in Greek mythology who descends from Olympus and proceeds to maneuver people not only for her own amusement, but to ends that are best for themselves. Gunnar Björnstrand, who made nineteen movies directed by Bergman, plays Fredrik Egerman as a stoical middle-aged man whose life experience has inured him to the frustration, humiliation, and even rivalry of his own son that he must endure to continue playing the game of love. Finally there is Harriet Andersson, who brings to Petra the maid the earthy eroticism and freedom from sexual inhibition that the better educated and better-off people in the movie crave but seem too self-conscious to attain.
For those acquainted with Bergman’s work, the most surprising thing about Smiles of a Summer Night is the lightness of his touch here. The picture has the delicacy of an early Lubitsch musical or one of Mozart’s more airy operas, The Marriage of Figaro or Così fan tutte. Subjects that in a different context Bergman would treat with the utmost gravity—the uncertainty of human relationships, sexual jealousy, the plight of overly cerebral people trying to find happiness in life—are treated here as something to poke fun at. Even the moment late in the film when farce seems about to slide into tragedy and you think Aha! At last here comes the Bergmanesque gloom turns out to be played for laughs, a cheeky joke on the viewer. It’s Bergman’s most amiable and playful movie. For once he treats the human condition as the object not of spiritual agonizing, but rather of gentle mockery.
How Smiles of a Summer Night made the Top 100:
With the possible exception of Alfred Hitchcock, no film director made as many great movies as Ingmar Bergman.”
As it is I can’t agree with you more. Neither can my site colleague Allan Fish, who sent me an e mail asserting that Bergman produced 13 masterpieces, while Hitchcock has 12, both ahead of any other. These are just numbers of course, and while I don’t agree exactly with every assertion one way or the other I do agree that because they are both so prolific, and because their greatest work isn’t restricted to any specific decade or time period, they managed to achieve greatness more often. Dreyer, Bresson, Murnau and Kubrick are unquestionable masters, but they worked slowly and produced far less, even if that fact has little bearing on the overall scheme. Renoir and Fellini fall in between, with only Chaplin (if we count the short) the possible equal of Berman and Hitchcock in the sense you are proposing here.
This is a magisterial essay on a vital film in Bergman’s output, a film that John Simon in his seminal study INGMAR BERGMAN DIRECTS regards as one of the director’s four supreme masterpieces with PERSONA, WINTER LIGHT and SAWDUST AND TINSEL. Simon’s study of course predates the advent of CRIES AND WHISPERS and FANNY AND ALEXANDER, so all assessments are relative. But still, methinks it’s a telling specification.
I absolutely love your comparison of SMILES to the ‘delicacy of an early Lubitsch musical’ or ‘one of Mozart’s more airy operas’ and the concluding coda that the film is a kind of ‘gentle mockery’ and I’d add there are the specters of the Bard, Strindberg and Chekhov hovering over these proceedings. SMILES is a theatrical film that recalls Carne’s CHILDREN OF PARADISE and Renoir’s RULES OF THE GAME in the manner it showcases electrifying ensemble acting and like Shaw’s PYGMALION, Chekov’s THE CHERRY ORCHARD and Beckett’s WAITING FOR GODOT it’s a comedy with a far more serious underpinning, one in which as Pauline Kael notes “theer are no winners in the game of love.” Your own assessment of the performances here is truly magnificent as is the entire scholarly treatment of one of the cinema’s most profound and sophisticated comedic pieces. Despite the film’s exceeding theatricality, one must acknowledge Bergman’s roving eye for cinematic devices, including the use of windows. SMILES is a probing psychological film that explores the entire range of human emotion, running from youthful adoration to neurosis, to capriciousness and final resignation. Gunner Fisher’s stunning black and white cinematography is exquisite and the ‘man being ruled by pride and the momen by their heart’ theme is the domain of Ophuls.
Sam, you touched on so many important things about the film that I couldn’t possibly comment on them all. But one thing you mentioned that I didn’t address in what I wrote really struck me, and that was the underlying melancholy of the film. It’s not oppressive, but if you look for it, it’s not hard to find. The only people in the film that I believe would ever find long-lasting contentment are Petra and Frid. It’s interesting that Bergman would inject such hopefulness and optimism in the two earthy peasant characters in the film, the only two who see pleasure as natural and seize it with spontaneity. Everyone else seems to be so wrapped up in their own intellects, behavioral inhibitions, and sense of propriety that they make it almost impossible for themselves to find happiness. (Bergman’s films seem to indicate this is something he had plenty of first-hand experience with!) They’re too busy agonizing and intellectualizing over pleasure to enjoy it, at least without assistance. Bergman almost seems to be taking the Rousseau line that civilization destroys, or at the very least seriously inhibits, what is natural and pleasurable in life.
Yep one of Bergman’s best films and it’s a supreme masterpiece and one of the best farces ever made and very Shakespearean. Very nice review R.D. You know Bergman well. He is my favorite director. I like that there are so many films where one can go to find Bergman at his best. Here he is light and funny and playful, but also darkly humorous as well and devilishly clever. Harriett Andersson is damn sexy too.
I voted for this one but can’t remember how high. Thinking it was around the 20′s. Once can also see the influence on Woody Allen….not just from the comedic aspect but from the ensemble work and the blending of the characters in the plot and from the tone. Of course we know Allen was big on Bergman.
Jon, most people have in their minds an idea of the “typical” Bergman film. I know I do. Yet watching this film made me realize that each of his films is unique. Yes, he went through phases, and he dwelt on certain subjects–especially the relation of art and artists to real life–in many of his films, yet there is really a great deal of variety in his work. This one certainly stands at one end of the continuum of his work. There’s nothing else quite like it there. I just wrote about a Luis Bunuel film, and I ran across a quotation from Bergman in which he said he didn’t care for Bunuel because he always made “Bunuel films” while he (Bergman) saw each of his own films as unique. Although that doesn’t make me like Bunuel any the less, I think Bergman might have been right.
You mention how sexy Harriet Andersson is here, and she sure is. Bergman did amazing work with his actresses (many of whom he also had romantic relationships with). Liv Ullmann seems to get the most attention in this respect, but also Bibi Andersson, Ingrid Thulin, and Harriet Andersson. They all did wonderful work with Bergman, probably the best of their careers. But the more I see of Harriet Andersson, the more I’m inclined to think she was the greatest of the great actresses he worked with. I’m going to rewatch “Sawdust and Tinsel” soon–I haven’t seen it since I was in college–and am really looking forward to it.
Oh you make lots of good points here R.D. Yes Bergman loved working with Actresses….I think it’s the purity of the emotion or something. Liv Ullmann is my favorite but you’re right there were many that he worked with that did AMAZING stuff.
Didn’t Allen pay homage to this with his ‘Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy’, a film I’ve assiduously avoided for many years? How ‘Smiles’ managed to escape my list is an embarrassment to me.
What a wonderful and SURPRISING review for one of my favorites and a film that I felt, absolutely, deserved to place on this list.
When I say “surprising”, I mean it in the most respectful way as I discussed with Sam that whomever had the task of writing about this film from the point of view that it’s a comedy might find it an exceeding daunting task. Bergman really wasn’t a comedy director and even here its a bite of a strain for the novice to come to this movie and pinpoint it as such. The obviousness of “traditional”
comedies is not part of the game with SMILES. The film itself deals more with the wit of manners than anything else and, like the earlier DISCREET CHARM, the laughs aren’t raucous as much as they are quietly telling. SMILES is a difficult comedy for those that come to it expecting hijinx and mahem like what we know from the works of Sturges and Lubitsch, or even the Marx Bros and Laurel and Hardy, yet there is a quiet, respectful, over-the-top attitude that pervades SMILES and causes the viewer to come back for more and more till they finally see it for the elegant comedy it really is.
I know I wouldn’t have been able to sleep without having SMILES on my ballot. The film is too good, by any standard, to ignore. I’m just glad to see so many of us agreed about this and made it a point to see it appear here on the poll.
Dennis, thank you very much for the kind words. I checked my ballot and I listed “Smiles” at #14. Sam left the definition of comedy up to the voter, and I have to admit that several films I had on my first draft ballot were removed from the final ballot because I just didn’t feel their overall tone was comic. This wasn’t one of them, though. As this is the only outright comedy I’ve seen by one of the greatest of all filmmakers, I too couldn’t conceive of a ballot without this film in a prominent place. You’re right in saying that this isn’t really a laugh-out-loud comedy or a knockabout farce, but there are many varieties of comedy. In the end I didn’t rank the films on my ballot on how funny they were but how good I thought they were as films that are comic. You called this a comedy of manners and described it as “elegant,” and that’s the way I see it too. It’s a subtle form of comedy that requires the involvement of the intellect to appreciate fully, but then what other form of comedy could one expect from Bergman?
It’s a very lovely film, my favorite Bergman, whether I’d say it was his best or not.
I know just what you mean. I often think of the works of a filmmaker–for that matter writer, composer, or other artist–in terms of my favorite and what my more objective sense of judgment tells me is the best. I can see why the high likability factor of this film could make it a favorite. At the other end of the Bergman spectrum, I find “The Seventh Seal” (which I saw at just about the same time I first saw “Smiles”) to be a work of genius but not that likable. To me it’s a very cold movie. I’m glad I’ve seen it, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to seek it out again.
Well you’re definitely right about the seeming irony of a Bergman “comedy,” he nonetheless had a humorous strain even in some of his most serious works. A few years ago I introduced my cousin to The Seventh Seal and was surprised at how funny it was at times – Gunnar Bjornstrand in particular, with his dry, cynical one-liners and grimaces, had us laughing out loud at times (that’s not to mention the more obvious, and perhaps more dated, shenanigans of the wench and her cuckold). Probably by the mid to late 60s the somberness became unabated – although even the Silence of God trilogy had its droll moments – but for much of his career, I think Bergman had a very Shakesperian sense about balancing the serious and sorrowful with the bawdy and arch.
MovieMan, interesting comments about finding humor even in Bergman’s most serious work and the Shakespearian sense of balancing the serious with the comic. When I think of the Bergman films I know as a body of work, I don’t detect a lot of humor there myself. Some of his films have moments of humor for sure but in my recollection most don’t have a lot, if any. I do know what you mean with your comment about Bergman covering the spectrum of life in a Shakespearian way, it’s just that I see this as individual moments spread over a number of films. “Smiles” is the only one I’ve seen whose overall tone I would call comic.
Your comments about “The Seventh Seal” make me wonder if I should watch it again. The first Bergman film I ever saw, many years ago, was “Winter Light” and I found it tedious and dull. It wasn’t until I saw a double feature of “Wild Strawberrries” and “Through a Glass Darkly” at a revival theater a year later that I realized what a great filmmaker he was. I didn’t see “Winter Light” again until a few months ago and this time found it excellent. I liked the way he treated big themes–the nature of religious faith and its role in the lives of believers/non-believers–in a small, i.e., personal, way. And Bjornstrand, who was in so many Bergman movies, was terrific. Surely this and “Through a Glass Darkly” were the best of all the fine work he did for Bergman.
Sondheim used this film for his own “A Little Night Music.” Bergman investigates sexual mores and the intricacy of human relationships with a generous dab of empathy. He examines these likable, if sometimes pompous characters, through the treacherous side of romance. The script is brilliant, witty, and not without the laugh aloud moments. It is strikingly designed and beautifully photographed in glorious black-and-white, courtesy of Bergman alumni Gunner Fischer. This is a remarkable review by R.D. Finch, that should be essential reading for anyone watching the film for the first time or for repeat viewings. Bravo.
Peter, thanks! “Smiles” is one of the films that remind me that Bergman got his start in theater and juggled film directing and stage directing for much of his career. It seems to fit right into the Continental stage tradition of examining the love game from the serious side and the comical side simultaneously. The way he stages action, not just here but in general, always reminds me how much he adapted stage conventions to cinema. He was not a showy director, emphasizing theme and character psychology and striking imagery within the frame over technique. And as Sam pointed out, theatricality in its many guises is a big part of this film, as it is to some extent in many of Bergman’s films.
I regret to say I’ve never seen this film. After watching a short clip on YouTube, it’s clear my education is hopelessly incomplete.
R.D., I’ve just watched this film and loved it – it is very warm towards all the characters, flawed as they are. An excellent review, as ever. I agree with you that Dahlbeck and Gunnar Björnstrand in particular are both excellent, and I also liked the scenes with Dahlbeck and her mother, Naima Wifstrand, discussing their respective conquests. The period atmosphere is also beautifully created in the film, adding to that feeling of underlying melancholy which you mention. And yes, I was also tricked into thinking that the Bergman gloom was coming up in a couple of scenes, but both times it turns into a black joke. So glad to have seen this.
Judy, I’m pleased to hear you liked the film. I think warm is a good word to associate with it, a descriptor I wouldn’t use for many Bergman films. I’m glad you mentioned the period atmosphere because this is one of the Bergman films that remind me what a great director of period pictures he was. His later pictures tended to have modern settings, but this one reminds me how often he used period settings earlier in his career. He seemed to get not just the look but also, as you say, the atmosphere right. Interesting that his last theatrical film, “Fanny and Alexander,” was such an exquisitely detailed period picture.