Films By Ikea
Email This ArticleIt’s been raining so heavily that I have been thinking about the nightmarish years of continuous deluge described in Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s 100 years of Solitude. I went to Pennsylvania with a friend and stayed at his cabin by the Susquehanna River. It was lovely, peaceful, and most of all, quiet.. After several days, I am back home, shut indoors watching films by Bergman. Persona is a fantastic series consisting of one masterful composition after another, many of which - taken separately - could easily be exhibited as black-and-white stills. A shot from the opening sequence presented a warmly lit body sleeping by a wall, evoking a seed of David’s Marat in the portable Corbis catalog in my head. A stray hand touching a face on the beach recalls some of Ralph Gibson’s work. I’ve always love disjointed narratives and the jarring sense of the Bunuel. I equate surprises to the wonder in discovering. For that reason alone, I never read book covers or lyric sheets when exploring a new piece of work. I see that as a form of treachery equivalent to bringing a score to a recital and flipping the pages along with the pianist as the work is unfolding. Why? We’re there to experience the storyteller! Let the storyteller work his or her magic and craft!
A long interview with the filmmaker in the Wild Strawberries dvd extra revealed a utilitarian view that was curious enough to send me reaching for my notebook. I jotted this quote of Bergman’s down: “I’m so 100% convinced that I produce goods for everyday use, in both theatre and film….I make a product to be used. It’s like a good article for everyday use - like a good table or a comfortable chair.” It certainly puts into recess all the pompous artists who whine about being misunderstood and go on a thirty year rampage of self-indulgence, or in modern terminology: A Blog.