Ingmar Bergman Centennial Retrospective in Taichung

     I wanted to see the Ingmar Bergman films at Taroko Mall in Taichung City; they started the week after they left Taipei. My wife does not care for "deep movies" so I would go on my own. I thought I had to buy tickets in advance, but there was no hurry. I could have made the reservations by myself but I asked my wife to assist me in Chinese; I wanted her to know when I was going. Perhaps she would choose to join me. 

      These were the film I wanted to see at the Ingmar Bergman Centennial Retrospective sponsored by Taipei Golden Horse Film Festival and the Taichung Film Development Foundation:

1.     “Smiles of a Summer Night” – Thurs. Aug. 16 1:50 pm

2.     “The Seventh Seal” - Friday, Aug. 17 2:20 pm

3.     “Cries and Whispers” – Mon. Aug. 20 2:40 pm

4.     “The Virgin Spring” – Tues. Aug. 21 2:40 pm

5.     “Autumn Sonata” Wed. Aug. 22 4:30 pm

6.     “Persona” – Thurs. Aug. 23 1:00 pm

7.     “Scenes From a Marriage” – Sum. Aug. 26 6:10 pm

8.     “Fanny and Alexander” – Mon. Aug. 27 1:00 pm

9.     “Wild Strawberries” Mon. Aug. 27 4:40 pm

    I tried not to pick showings on the weekend unless absolutely necessary. I might not be able to see them all, for different reasons, but of the 38 titles, these seemed to be the most interesting. The price per showing was 200 Taiwan Dollars- about $6.00. I could never pay so little in a Greenwich Village art theater.  My wife said  I would not need to buy tickets in advance because no one in Taichung was interested in these movies; they were "too deep." It turns out she was right; only one film was sold out. I    

thought my wife would like the first film I planned to see, “Smiles of a Summer Night.” It is an erotic comedy. I was looking forward to seeing “The Seventh Seal” too. 

I posted a selfie  before that first show, "The Seventh Seal", and posed a rhetorical question: "How many Ingmar Bergman films can I watch before becoming suicidal?" to chuckles and comments. It was becoming an event. I told my Facebook friends to look out for the blog piece I would be writing about it. 

     “Cries and Whispers” was going to be screened at 2:40 on August 20th, but I felt its plot, the final days of a cancer-stricken Agnes, too depressing;  I struck it off my list.  The next film on my list was the following day at 2:40; “The Virgin Spring”, about “...an innocent girl raped…and killers seek refuge in her father’s farmhouse suffering terrible revenge." Sounded good.  In the same vengeful vein, I added “Shame” to the bottom of the list but it was playing the evening of two films I planned to see, one of them my wife had agreed to see with me; “Wild Strawberries,” showing at 4:40, that last Monday of the retrospective, August 27th. 

    At my Mandarin language exchange, I lent Vincent the Ingmar Bergman Centennial program guide suggesting he might want to see a film; I told him I was going alone Saturday evening to see one. He returned the booklet to me the next day without a comment.
    Meanwhile, my daughter in Portland  commented on-line about the Bergman photo I had shared on Facebook saying she liked his work, too, mentioning two films she saw, “The Magician” which played Aug. 19 and “The Silence” which played Aug. 20.If she would have told me sooner, I would have gone to see them, too.

     On Friday, August 24th, by Taichung government decree, all schools and public events, like Bergman film retrospectives were cancelled  that evening and Saturday as a tropical depression (how apropos)  formed south of Taiwan and was heading north inundating  the island in rain, some of it torrential; there was  flooding south of Taichung. That evening’s showing of “All These Women” and “Hour of the Wolf” were cancelled. It was raining lightly on Saturday; no big deal in Taichung, but those with tickets for these precious showings would be disappointed. 

       That Friday evening I had two glasses of whiskey starting at six o'clock, and wasted by eight. I went to sleep and did not wake up until the middle of the night, spent an hour or two in our tea room and study before going back to bed before dawn, finally waking up at eight o'clock. I did not have Friday evening wine and cheese with my wife as planned. 

        Saturday was a long rainy day; I didn't go out once. I was going to see a film there that evening. Instead, I watched "The Secret Life of Walter Middy" a Chinese bootleg DVD. Like my day, it got stuck towards the end. It was questionable whether the Saturday evening showings would be cancelled, too. As it turned out, my wife had not bought the ticket I wanted for that evening's showing, but to please me, she struggled to get on-line  to buy one, then called the theater to no avail.

      “You know what?" I said. "Forget it; I’d rather spend the evening with you than go see the movie anyhow.” She didn’t argue with me. The wine was still in the refrigerator from Friday evening because I had two glasses of whiskey instead. The  only “Smiles of a Summer Night” that evening would be on our faces as we sat in the living room with wine,  cheese, and the next episode of “Lucifer” on cable TV. 

       Monday morning, she  rode me on her scooter to the hospital for my check-up. It was done with such precision that we were  home by ten o'clock; enough time to get in twenty-five laps at the pool without rushing. I then rode the bicycle home, got in the car, and drove to park in the Taroko Mall basement with enough time to get a glutinous rice wrap in the food court; that with soda, popcorn and Malteser would be munched on during "Fanny & Alexander".

    "Fanny & Alexander" was marvelous. I didn't remember seeing it in 1982. Indeed, I hadn't because I was surprised at the plot.  In the four films I viewed, this one in particular, the Christian church  was farcically presented, down to the prayers before meals; only towards G-d, directed in one's hour of need, were the characters earnest.          Folklore and potions were vital ingredients in the climax of plots in three of the four films, with dreams being the other undercurrent. I was glad that the Jew in "F&A" was the confidant of the matriarch of the Ekdahl family but was surprised when the stereotyped money-lending Jew rescued the children from the ‘stern prelate’; Jewish mysticism and the theater make things right neutralizing the bible blackness of children's tormentors, the church that officiates at the funeral of the Fanny and Alexander’s theater manager.

     It is hard to believe Bergman was a Nazi sympathizer or a Christian; I had to look him up in Google to make sure.

      Bergman must have repented from his Nazi-supporting youth before he made films in the '50's; the church is the antagonist in his films; his characters misled by their faith in a false prophet; truly, the cross was a symbol of death to Bergman. Though death comes to us all, as we are reminded in “The Seventh Seal”, no matter how long you  play chess with the reaper. I like the final speech by the Ekdahl philander in "F&A" saying the little things, not the grandeur of the church, carries us through life; the celebrations, the theater, family, and children.

My wife had taken a taxi in the rain and was in the lobby when the "F&A" ended. I suggested we go down to the food court for a cup of ice cream before "Wild Strawberries" began. It was there, when going to validate a discount on parking, I realized I'd lost the parking token. I could have felt like an old man losing it when my wife panicked but I pointed out the worst they could do was charge for the full day parked there. They later charged us 100 NT-$3.00 u.s.-for losing the token. We went up to see the film.

Losing the parking token, I was worried that I would find myself in sympathy with Isak Borg, the distinguished professor in “Wild Strawberries…taking stock of his life, confronting his shortcomings, and accepting his mortality,” but I am not distinguished or lonely. The film was not as meaningful as I had hoped. It tasted like a Twilight Zone episode the way it was staged, especially with the professor’s daydreams and nightmares. So long as I do not become more anti-social and become a boring old fart, my seventy-ninth year will be as exciting and full of love as my sixty-forth, with or without the accolades; probably without.  
  That Monday evening, on the last day of the retrospective, with my wife after the last film, "Wild Strawberries", the London broil, bruschetta, French fries, and bock beer,  was delicious. It topped off a day of many bright facets with only the loss of a parking token. 

"Wild Strawberries" was not the best of the four Bergman film I saw during the Taiwan Centennial Retrospective. It was not the film I thought my dubious wife would like, but I missed the show in lieu of a smile at home with my wife on a late summer night.

      I could not leave her alone to be with Bergman that rainy Saturday evening. It was no shame that I did not see "Shame" and forego dinner with her. Bergman would certainly agree, the reality of a happy life is better than the entertainment of depression, but it is good to have your eyes opened when life throws you a curve. 

       After watching four Bergman films in two weeks, I am not suicidal. In fact, I hope to see more Bergman films; one day, maybe see an Alfred Hitchcock and Frank Capra film festival in Taiwan, too. 
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