Dir.
Ingmar Bergman, 1953, Sweden, 95 mins
Cast:
Max von Sydow, Bengt Ekerot, Gunnar Bjornstrand, Nils Poppe, Bibi Andersson, Gunnel Lindblom, Ake Fridell, Inga Gill
There are few films that have passed into popular consciousness like The Seventh Seal. So iconic is the image of Antonius Block (von Sydow), a knight just returned from Crusades challenging Death to a high stakes game of chess by a rolling sea, it's no surprise that it has become one of the most parodied sequences in film history. But as Bergman continues this game of life and death around the country he expands the concept, drawing in and exploring a variety of themes far beyond that famous image.
The seeds of The Seventh Seal lie in Wood Painting, a one Act play Bergman wrote in Drama school in which he incorporated many childhood memories, especially attending church with his father. When Bergman later bought a recording of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana, inspired by medieval minstrel songs, The Seventh Seal was set; becoming essentially - as Bergman terms it - a road movie.
And so we follow the Knight and his squire, Jons (Bjornstrand) as they meet an eclectic group of characters trying to escape the plague: Jof (Poppe) and Mia (Andersson), the travelling minstrels; blacksmith Plog (Fridell) and his errant wife (Gill); the dumb servant girl (Lindblom). Bergman was fascinated by the homeless masses who wandered the land in time of plague and particularly the Minstrels who produced songs of hope in such times. The director wanted to trace this procession through "the downfall of civilisation" and succeeds in creating a foreboding, medieval world, complete with tavern fights and storm lit castles. Though the striking figure of Death - a visual decision that Bergman quite rightly states could have failed so easily - is seen only in certain scenes, death hangs over all proceedings. Often, comedic situations take a sinister turn as the reaper creeps into view - in one notable scene he proves himself very handy with a saw.
It is an extraordinary film, but what is most remarkable is that The Seventh Seal manages to carry both a broad cinema and an intrinsic theatrical quality in each scene. Though its roots and many concerns are clearly from the stage, Bergman often throws up stunning vistas which, when coupled with striking cinematography ensure it a place among the greats.
The roots of the film are very much carried on its sleeve - Death is not the only shadow hanging heavily over The Seventh Seal, there is also Hamlet. The life and death concerns, misogyny, acting troupes bound for Elsinore and religious debate all take their cues from Shakespeare's play, but the shots, particularly the uses of the coastline also suggest a link to Olivier's 1948 version of the play. But this is not just another adaptation, Bergman boldly strikes out in his own direction, though he would return to Hamlet thirty years later with Fanny and Alexander.
Central to exploring life and death is the relationship between the Knight and his squire - two opposite beliefs side by side, excellently performed. The relationship grows throughout the film - hinting at their Crusade back-story and ultimately providing focus in the dramatic conclusion.
Against all odds, The Seventh Seal leaves us with a sense of hope, alongside one of the most famously improvised shots in cinema. Here Bergman took on the question of life and death and succeeded where so many films have failed - no wonder so many still continue to reference it.
Matt Goddard
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