Bergman Island (2021) Review
“Can I tell you About what I’m Writing?”
The creative process is one that can be a grueling effort; tackling one’s own life events and grief alike. Ingmar Bergman understood this. So much so that he chose to focus on the darkness that shadows life itself moreso than the moments of happiness we feel in between. And in doing so, he has created an impactful body of work that analyzes the human condition in ways no one ever has before. The director’s translation of grief onscreen transcend far beyond the surface level of emotion; with ambiguity and intrigue feeling more akin to life itself. Having such a deeply personal voice, and one at the same time so intrinsically understood by many, is not easy to come by. The perfection of one’s craft does not come without a cost, however, as Bergman himself failed as a father and a family-man. To compare oneself to any great artist is unfair. To deeply understand the motivation behind their art is another story. And in understanding the human being behind the artist themselves — it’s impossible to see one without the other. Tangled together through time and perception until the fragments diverge into one entity; the auteur themselves. But in doing so, the basis of humanity may be lost along the way. With Bergman Island, director Mia Hansen-Løve so forwardly asks — “can one create a great body of work and raise a family at the same time?”
Bergman Island opens with a filmmaking couple that arrive on the island of Fårö, home to Ingmar Bergman for many years. They come to the island to seek inspiration for their craft and find solace in being around the everlasting presence of an esteemed artist. It’s hinted that, in many ways, this is a ghost story; the belief of these invisible forces that drive us to accomplish what we must for ourselves or in the shadow of others. Chris (Vicky Krieps) and Tony Sanders (Tim Roth) are driven to this island for a multitude of reasons; their appreciation of Bergman’s work, for one, but also for Tony’s film premiere and following reception. It’s these moments in which Chris tries to find inspiration for her next piece; bathing in the iridescent gloom that seeps into the windows of Bergman’s farm house. Everyone has a story to tell, but it comes with living life itself, to know when or how to tell it. As Tony and Chris are separated within the island, we are able to see them as individuals rather than being defined by the relationship itself. This choice lets the viewer interact with each of the characters, basking in their individuality, or lack thereof. Where Tony fails to be alone, feeling shunned by his wife’s dismissal of their plans, Chris finds it freeing. It’s in these moments, we see the carefree nature of Chris blossom onscreen while also understanding that she seeks greatness; in due time. Their daughter is mentioned sporadically to ground the sense of their relationship but the journey they are on — are each their own. And as Chris finally frees herself enough to begin telling the story that defines her, or at least parts of her, she realizes she may have to do it alone.
As Tony meanders through the island taking in the Bergman tours and receiving positive reception for his latest release, Chris is determined to forge her own path on the island. She may not realize it at the moment — but this refusal to be “along for the ride” builds her character for years to come. The film decides to focus on the steps before the journey itself; displaying this sense of self-discovery and hinting at what follows. From the midpoint, it starts to take some risky storytelling choices jumping through timelines; coming together at the end to show the toll it may take to unabashedly tell your story. Chris’ time spent on the island is vastly different than that of Tony’s but through her experiences shown, and not shown, the audience is hinted at the person she chooses to be. And in the end, in seeking greatness for her craft, she may not be the the mother she always thought she was going to be.
Bergman Island is a tale of self-realization and the sacrifices one is willing to make in the pursuit of becoming the artist you believe you are. An homage to the humanity and naturality of Bergman’s work, as well as a scathing reality check, the film forges its own identity through the history of cinema and life itself. Mia Hansen-Løve has crafted one of the most thoughtful films of the year — and one that will stick with me for a very long time.
