CriticSociety- film reviews

Review

The Seventh Seal

Director

Ingmar Bergman

Year

1957

Rating

Reviewed by

Gon Curiel a.k.a. Groucho

Review date

Wednesday, June 11, 2003

In the 14th century, Antonius Block (Max von Sydow), a knight coming back from the Crusades, finds no hope and no meaning in his life when he seems unable to perceive the existence of God on Earth. Something significant then happens: Death (Bengt Ekerot) appears, a Grim Reaper figure, but a wise, gentle one, not a merely evil or scary one, if one who takes pleasure in his job. Block, afraid of dying without finding God, challenges Death to a game of chess, where if he wins, he’ll be given another chance to live. The game takes some time, during which Block, accompanied by his squire Jöns (Gunnar Björnstrand), meets different people in different circumstances and struggles to use time well in order to fulfill his one and only desire. He philosophizes, and makes his point clear that while God is strong inside of him, he’s nowhere to be found outside. The magnificence of this story lies mostly in the way that God does appear, continuously, in front of Block’s eyes: in the people he meets, in their joy to live, in the experiences, in love; but Block doesn’t seem able to look in the right places.

Fascinating, to say the least, this Swedish masterpiece by Ingmar Bergman is justly considered one of his best films, and surely a must-see. The story goes from drama to comedy and back again smoothly and beautifully, presenting a set of extraordinary characters (excellently performed), notably the actor Jof (Nils Poppe), his wife Mia (Bibi Andersson) and their infant son Mikael. Their story, the brightest one in the movie, contrasts Block’s, in the different ways they see life, in the visions that Block and Jof have, in the love and the lack of it, in the joy of the little moments or the atrocious way of letting them go through, etc.

One too many unforgettable images fill this visually delightful movie: the hawk floating in a cloudless sky, the vision of the Virgin Mary and her little son, the two horses on the surf, the procession of flagellant victims of the plague, and certainly, the eerily beautiful dance of distant figures toward the unknown.

A poetic, cynic, and ultimately rewarding experience, this movie’s beautiful and unforgettable, filled with haunting dialogue and philosophy, easy to apply to anybody around the world, now as much as ever.

“I shall remember this moment: the silence, the twilight, the bowl of strawberries, the bowl of milk. Your faces in the evening light. Mikael asleep, Jof with his lyre. I shall try to remember our talk. I shall carry this memory carefully in my hands as if it were a bowl brimful of fresh milk. It will be a sign to me, and a great sufficiency.”

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