First in a Series

When I started in graduate school at the age of 30, having been a priest for four years, I had a daily plan. It was to rise early, say Mass at about 7 a.m., have breakfast and then at about 8:30 in the morning start working on my studies and continue to work until 10 p.m. It never happened!

Each day at about four or five o’clock in the afternoon my drive, energy and capacity to concentrate seriously on philosophy disappeared. What often replaced my study was to leaf through a newspaper to see if there were any interesting movies that I could go to see. When I found one, not much work in philosophy was done after supper.

This pattern took place during the 1964-65 school year. At this time, some of the films of important foreign directors such as Ingmar Bergman, Federico Fellini, and Michelangelo Antonioni were appearing in this country. When I viewed some of their films, I was fascinated but also confused. Professional critics would rave and call some of the films I viewed masterpieces. Though I was fascinated, I was also frustrated and was determined to figure out just why some of these films were so special. In addition to not appreciating some of the masterpieces I could not understand what the directors were trying to say.

Bergman died a few weeks ago on July 30. Of all the foreign film directors, he was my favorite. Eventually, he became my favorite among all film directors. As I came to understand the questions Bergman probed and dramatized, I also came to see his enormous skill as an artist. As I grew in admiration of him, I suspected that some day I would write a book about him and I did that about 20 years after my initial experience of his work while I was a graduate student.

The first Bergman film I saw was “The Seventh Seal” (1957). This is truly a great film. With it, Bergman became an important figure in world cinema. I have used the film when I taught at Queens College, at Cathedral College of the Immaculate Conception, and at St. John’s University. I cannot even guess how many times I have viewed it. It is one of those films that can help someone see the enormous possibilities of cinema.

One of the outstanding American film directors claimed that when he first saw “The Seventh Seal,” he came to a whole new realization of what could be dealt with cinematically. Everything about “The Seventh Seal” works – the plot, the acting, editing, music and especially the camera work.

The story of “The Seventh Seal” centers around a medieval knight returning from the Crusades. He is discouraged because he went on the Crusades with high idealism but what he experienced was violence and plundering. He is on the brink of despair as the film begins. With his squire, who is a complete cynic, he is traveling to his home. Death appears to him and tells the knight that he has come to take him. The knight challenges Death to a game of chess and gets Death to make a bargain that, as long as the game continues, the knight will not die. The knight hopes to prolong his life so that he might find some significant meaning to human existence.

During his journey home, the knight encounters various people as he tries to find some meaning or value that can make life on Earth more than sound and fury signifying nothing. At crucial moments during the film, Death reappears to continue the game of chess, to taunt the knight and to remind him that time is running out.

Among the various characters that the knight meets are two members of an acting group and their baby, Michael. Significantly, the names of the two actors are Joseph and Mary. That Bergman intends them as a reference to the Holy Family is obvious. At one point in the film, Joseph announces that at some time Michael will perform an impossible trick.

The love between Joseph and Mary and the joy and consolation they receive from it are in stark contrast to the sadness, suffering and frustration of everyone else in the film. In one scene, one of the loveliest in a Bergman film, Joseph, Mary and the knight are sitting on a hillside. Mary has given the knight some strawberries and milk. The knight takes the bowl of strawberries and milk and holds it up, much as a priest holds up the consecrated species at a Mass. He announces that he will remember this moment, the love that exists among Mary, Joseph and Michael, and that this memory will be enough for him. This scene, as much as any in his films, sums up Bergman’s vision of human life. Fleeting moments of interpersonal love are all that one can hope for according to this great artist. Eventually, the knight performs his one significant act, the act that gives his life meaning. He tricks Death and saves Joseph, Mary and Michael from dying.

Though I disagree with Bergman’s vision of life, I have profited immensely from his work. Within a few days of his death, I offered Mass for him.