What you get for your viewing pleasure are a lot of closeups of Liv Ullmann screaming for almost two hours. After watching this film, there is no doubt in my mind that she can act because she acts up (overacts?) a storm in this film. She has an extended monologue where she basically plays a character who is possessed by her mean grandmother, (don't ask). It's impressive to watch but ultimately completely pointless.
Like a lot of veteran directors in the 1970's, Bergman seemed to struggle finding material that he could completely connect with. It's hard to believe this piece of pseudo psychological clap trap got past his quality control, but since Bergman wrote his own screenplays as well as directing them he is ultimately the one to blame. Even the dream sequences are not up to par.
The film is shot mostly in close ups and medium shots, which is probably due to it's television origins, it's claustrophobic as hell to watch. The end of the film where Ullmann realizes that "love conquers all," is so ridiculous it's hard to believe that Ingmar Bergman is taking this film seriously.
114 minutes, written by Ingmar Bergman.
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