The Passion of Anna (1969)

The Passion of Anna (1969)

Written and directed by Ingmar Bergman

Runtime: 1 hr, 40 min

A common thread among a good number of the reviews I’ve written for this blog is, “Hey, how is it that I’ve never seen a film by this director?”  This has been the driving force behind watching films from Buster Keaton, Vittorio De Sica, Francis Ford Coppola, and so forth.  Yet, if memory serves me right, I have most spoken that particular line regarding the renowned Swedish director Ingmar Bergman.  So, by virtue of it being the one Bergman film available on Netflix Instant, let’s take a look at The Passion of Anna (original Swedish title: En passion, or A Passion)

The story begins with a man named Andreas (Max von Sydow), who lives a solitary life and is reeling from the recent dissolution of his marriage.  One day, he receives a visit from a young woman named Anna (Liv Ullman), whose husband—also named Andreas—was killed in a car accident while Anna was driving.  The two eventually strike up a relationship, both as romantic partners and as friends of another couple, Elis and Eva (Erland Josephson and Bibi Andersson).  However, it soon becomes apparent that all is not well with any of the characters.

The Passion of Anna is definitely a character driven production, and what drives these characters remains ambiguous throughout.  However, if there were one word I could use to describe the cast of characters, then it would be “damaged”.  Everyone involved has a tragic back-story or gnawing guilt which renders them incapable of functioning in the present day.  Although they try their hardest to live with each other, all four of the leads are clearly repressing some aspects of their personality to get along in life.

As he gets the most screentime, von Sydow is best able to flesh out his character’s worries and frustrations.  Andreas places himself in a self-imposed isolation, rarely interacting with anyone else until he meets the other three characters.  He is an ex-convict and deeply humiliated regarding his failed marriage, and his worn-down facial expressions convey the stress which has been mounting within him.  Perhaps a bit too well, actually, for it makes his later, violently passionate reactions seem out-of-character.

For her part, Ullman excels in communicating her character’s baggage as well.  Unlike Andreas, whose pain is conveyed largely through silence, Anna demonstrates her inner turmoil through language.  Most telling is the scene in which she tells Andreas her version of events regarding the car crash.  Ullman’s bright blue pupils remain dilated throughout the speech, and she rarely blinks during her delivery, which itself is hushed and stilted.  It only gains vigor toward the end, as if Anna is attempting to convince herself of what happened.

The Passion of Anna does not focus too heavily on Elis and Eva except for the earlier scenes, so it’s not surprising that their motivations are the least developed.  Eva appears paranoid that her husband has become bored with her, and she seems to feel trapped in a now-unfulfilling relationship.  Elis, meanwhile, is a tougher nut to crack; he barely has a background.  Given how his unabashed sarcasm contrasts with the apparent earnestness of his counterparts, he could be the voice of reason in the movie, or simply hiding his own frustrations behind a wall of snark.

In addition to the main cast of four, there is a subplot involving an islander named Johan (Erik Hell), who is accused of committing a string of cruel acts on animals which have plagued the island.  Johan’s established past mental problems and his own bouts of isolation give the accusations some credence, and the way that Hell’s character reacts to the threats he has received as a result is masterful.  As with Elis’ sarcasm, the strong, almost stoic front which Johan puts up may serve as a barrier to his personal turmoil, and his arc reinforces the feeling of isolation which permeates the movie.

The acting in The Passion of Anna is all around superb, but I feel that the script has some serious flaws which detract from the experience.  For one thing, the characters are incredibly perceptive.  This isn’t just limited to discerning motivations; having emotional damage may be a justification for seeing through others’ baggage.  No, it extends to knowing things about the characters that the audience would never guess.  For instance, apropos of nothing, Elis guesses that Andreas has done time in prison, even though this fact has never been brought up at any point.  It’s as if they are reading ahead in the script.

For another, Bergman’s dialogue, while actually pretty good during the film’s early scenes, often feels clunky when it’s extended to monologues.  The philosophical musings he is fond of writing make sense when sprinkled in conversations or stated off-handedly, but too often the scenes between Andreas and Anna are so riddled with these deep thoughts that I lose all interest.  It’s not that the topic is necessarily dull; it’s that it doesn’t feel remotely like human dialogue, especially when it’s presented on screen like two disembodied heads having a debate.

From what I can gather, The Passion of Anna is not one of Bergman’s strongest pieces and likely serves as a poor entry point for the director’s work.  Had I the chance I probably would have started with The Seventh Seal or Wild Strawberries, based on reputation, but you take what you can get.  And I will say that The Passion of Anna is a powerful drama to behold, and that its conclusion is emotionally devastating.  I just wish that the stellar performances had been given a sturdier script to work with.