'Trolösa' is the second film to be directed by Liv Ullmann that was written by Ingmar Bergman. That Bergman's DNA is all through the film is not a surprise: Ullmann was Bergman's dear friend, former lover and sometimes enemy, and her work -- and personal life -- will forever be linked with Bergman and his style; it's easy to believe that Ullmann learned all she knows about film-making from her years studying under one of the all-time greats. And she learned well, for she is a very fine director.
Even by Bergman film standards, 'Trolösa' is bleak viewing. While so many of Bergman's films are about suffering and pain, there was rarely a feeling of absolute hopelessness at their core: the light shone through the darkness in moments of tenderness and beauty, especially in the eyes of his exceptional heroine actor-cum-martyrs, particularly Ullmann herself.
There isn't any such redemption here, which features very strong acting from its three main characters (played by Lena Endr, Krister Henriksson and Thomas Hanzon) but no signs of warmth or hope to cling onto: all three are deeply unlikeable and selfish in their suffering. So much so, it's almost a relief when this long film ends and we're rid of them. It's hard not to feel for the actors because despite their talents this was a very tough script to transform into enjoyable viewing, and it largely fails in this regard.
The only character that isn't unlikeable is played by the little girl, Isabelle (Michelle Gylemo), but unfortunately her character is so underwritten that she mostly plays the role of mute suffering in the background. And at the film's ending, after we learn that Marianne dies from drowning, we don't even get to find out what happens to the orphaned Isabelle -- her character is discarded like a prop, which, ironically, is how her parents treated her; yet we hear from dull David, who continues to feel sorry for himself, seemingly always finding new ways to be miserable.
Considering what Isabelle went through (the messy dissolution of her parents' marriage and resulting instability, her mother and her new lover screaming at each other constantly, her father committing suicide and nearly taking her with him and finally her mother's death by drowning) she probably ended up in a loony bin.
The most affecting and tender performance in the film is given by its best actor, the legendary Erland Josephson, star of countless Bergman films, playing an elderly Bergman wrestling with his demons and attempting to exorcise them the only way he knows how -- by writing films about them.
Even by Bergman film standards, 'Trolösa' is bleak viewing. While so many of Bergman's films are about suffering and pain, there was rarely a feeling of absolute hopelessness at their core: the light shone through the darkness in moments of tenderness and beauty, especially in the eyes of his exceptional heroine actor-cum-martyrs, particularly Ullmann herself.
There isn't any such redemption here, which features very strong acting from its three main characters (played by Lena Endr, Krister Henriksson and Thomas Hanzon) but no signs of warmth or hope to cling onto: all three are deeply unlikeable and selfish in their suffering. So much so, it's almost a relief when this long film ends and we're rid of them. It's hard not to feel for the actors because despite their talents this was a very tough script to transform into enjoyable viewing, and it largely fails in this regard.
The only character that isn't unlikeable is played by the little girl, Isabelle (Michelle Gylemo), but unfortunately her character is so underwritten that she mostly plays the role of mute suffering in the background. And at the film's ending, after we learn that Marianne dies from drowning, we don't even get to find out what happens to the orphaned Isabelle -- her character is discarded like a prop, which, ironically, is how her parents treated her; yet we hear from dull David, who continues to feel sorry for himself, seemingly always finding new ways to be miserable.
Considering what Isabelle went through (the messy dissolution of her parents' marriage and resulting instability, her mother and her new lover screaming at each other constantly, her father committing suicide and nearly taking her with him and finally her mother's death by drowning) she probably ended up in a loony bin.
The most affecting and tender performance in the film is given by its best actor, the legendary Erland Josephson, star of countless Bergman films, playing an elderly Bergman wrestling with his demons and attempting to exorcise them the only way he knows how -- by writing films about them.