From The Life Of The Marionettes [DVD] [1980]

From the life of the Marionettes is not known as one of Ingmar Bergman's best film. Indeed after having watched it for the first time I was distinctly unnmoved. The film is slow and quiet and though it is only 100 minutes or so long, it might seem@like far more. Like most Bergman, it needs to be watched in the correct mood. If you're tired or want not to think,@this film will not be what you're lookinng for.
After the second viewing however, I was struck by the subtle brilliance of this movie (so subtle indeed that I couldn`t see it first time around).
We begin by witnessing a man killing a young woman. It is an angry, fearful event. This man is Peter Engermann, as we find out later, and the woman is a young prostitute named Katarina, or 'Ka' as she is known. The audience is treated after this to a massively complex film structurally, being shown events from up to weeks before the murder and likewise after. This confusing way of showing us the happenings of the time leading up to and following the murder highlight Peter's intense emotional struggles as he fights with himself over his sexual frustration and his desire to kill his own wife, also called Katarina, an ironic coincidence not lost on Peter. This deep desire is, we see, as a result of far more than just hate. He seems not to know why he wants to kill her and the audience sees scenes of quite touching closeness between the couple, which adds to the sense of confusion surrounding his bloodlust.
'Real scenes', where we see characters interacting, are spliced intermittently with scenes where we see just one character, for instance Peter's mother, being interviewed by the police, somewhat in the Rashomon mould. It is in these scenes where one may lose interest. However, they provide a wonderful insight into the emotions of those affected by Peter's actions and the mystery surrounding Peter's feelings is heightened by the various speeches.
One must pay attention throughout the film to appreciate it's brilliance. Each character we meet is in some way explored, from Peter's secretary, who shows, if even for just a moment, a concern for his welfare, to the desperate Tim, a colleague of Peter's wife, lonely, unhappy and in love with Peter, as we find out from his tragic interview with the police.
The acting is superb, all delivering memorable performances, with Robert Atzorn as Peter showing us once again that Bergman can pick a leading male when he wants one, and none of Bergman' weighty, highly experimental screenplay is lost we imagine, in it's transferal from page to screen, or we would certainly be looking at one of the greatest films ever-made.
The film is held aloft, triumphant in it's splender, by Sven Nykvist's mind-boggling cinematography which is, as always magical. Indeed, another remarkable thing about this film is it's colour, or lack of it. It begins in the bright reds of the peep-show where Ka works but, after only 10 minnutes or so, goes black and white and stays that way until the epilogue. The modern audience may perhaps prefer the colour, but one feels instinctively that black and white suits better Bergman's themes and the dark nature of the film.
The DVD, as with all the Tartan Bergman's is interesting and insightful, with extracts from Bergman's book, 'Images-my life in film', proving to be the highlight of the SPECIAL FEATURES section.
Bergman is quoted on the back of the box as stating that 'I am rather proud of From the Life of the Marionettes' and it's not hard to see why. It is a must for Bergman fans and really anyone who loves a beautifully made, beautifully performed piece of cinematic art, as this film is. Bergman's most underrated masterpiece, but a masterpiece all the same.

A complex dissection of a murder and a murderer, told by jumping back and forth in time,
before and after the event, A deeply disturbing portrait of a man and a society so cut off
from feeling that violence seems almost inevitable.

While more divided in public reaction then some of Bergman's most beloved films, I
think this edgy, bold, uncomfortable film ranks close to some of his best work. While
there are moments of pretension, there's also a lot of human and psychological complexity
(and wonderful acting) in this bleak exploration of how near murder and madness lie to any of us.

Whereas Tarkovsky lets the poetic image speak for itself, Bergman is compelled to plaster his cinematography (near-perfect as it is) with the usual existentialist cliches.

Why don't his characters just get on with it instead of agonising over sweet-nothings?

Give me Tarkovsky any day.