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The Magic Lantern by Ingmar Bergman
The Magic Lantern by Ingmar Bergman












The Magic Lantern by Ingmar Bergman

Thinking back to one of those directors whose career started at roughly the same time as those French thinkers solidified their theories, one finds Ingmar Bergman. Such parasocial dynamics have their place in the study of cinema, but they should never be the beginning or end of any consideration of an artist’s work, of their worth. There are dangers to this approach, a funneling point of view that reduces cinematic expression to an audiovisual confession the audience assuming the role of confidant, the camera rendered therapist. Thus, it’s often the case that a director’s biography, whether written down or not, becomes a reference point, a prism through which we can decipher and perchance re-appreciate, maybe even understand, a particular artist’s work. The famous auteur theory conceived by the minds at Cahiers du Cinéma in postwar France has defined much of the present conception of the director as a cinematic author, as an artist, as someone whose personal preoccupations delineate the limits and horizons of a filmography. That’s hard for an old, inveterate fantasy martyr and liar who has never hesitated to give truth the form he felt the occasion demanded.Īs cinephiles who learn to love cinema under the shadow of past critical thought, it’s difficult to avoid being seduced by the ideas and ideals of those who came before.

The Magic Lantern by Ingmar Bergman

I’m planning, you see, to try to confine myself to the truth.














The Magic Lantern by Ingmar Bergman