Lambie Reviews Fanny and Alexander

Year: 1982
Accolades: One of 1001 films you must see before you die; Winner of a bunch of Oscars; Ingamr Bergman's "last film" (it turned out sort of not to be)

When you mention "Ingmar Bergman" the mind automatically comes up with a certain set of rules that it thinks his films will all follow. Interestingly, this film bucks the trend a bit and is a bit more accessible than some of his other work. It's an intriguing film that is part ghost story, part family drama, and even part fantasy. Admittedly, this does sound like most of his films so far, but this one isn't really as abstract. It does have it's moments, but for the most part you can infer enough of what you need to know in order to understand what is going on.

It's a long film, at just over three hours, and at times it does feel that long, but even if there's not a lot going on on screen there's always something there that can sustain your interest. The cinematography is just gorgeous, for a start. The colours of the rich family home and the costumes of its occupants almost saturate the screen, to the point where the visuals alone are enough to establish the joyous nature that this extended family seems to share, particularly at Christmas in the opening scenes.

There are also some wonderful individual shots, such as those in which characters are framed by doorways, arches, windows, etc that have been positioned behind the characters. The colourful nature of many of these shots means that it's easy to pick them. Whether or not the unsubtle nature of these framing devices is intentional is irrelevant, because that's just the weird abstract way in which Bergman sometimes works on the concious and unconscious level.

You'd also think that a film in which the dialogue consist mostly of the goings on of the family and the drama within would be excruciating, yet it's oddly fascinating. At times characters go on rather philosophical tangents that are also layered with a deeper emotional subtext. Other times there seems to be some sort of other psychological undercurrent as one character tries to get the upper hand on another. There are also those shots that make you think "what on earth does Bergman keep showing this for? Is it just some sort of plot-framing device?" Such innocent things turn out to be foreshadowing of something much darker later on.

Then of course there's the character who dies at the end of the first act then keeps showing up and occasionally has discussions with people who are still living. At first it just seems like just one of those things that Bergman does, but as the film progresses the whole idea of being able to commune with the dead starts playing into other plot elements. After that, the final act starts exploring other elements of the paranormal as well and it all seems perfectly natural for the tone and style of the film.

If anything, this film is a great way to initiate the uninitiated into the world of Ingmar Bergman. There's so much layered into every shot, and so much layered into the story. (So much, in fact, that there's an even longer, four part television version.) Ultimately, it's a film that gives you so much to think about, in a satisfying way for once.