Ingmar Bergman is dead. Just like that. After 89 years of brilliance, more than 50 films, and never ending madness. No films have made a greater impression on me than his. Some that come to mind are... "Smultronstället" or "Wild Strawberries," "Cries and Whispers," and, of course, "Fanny and Alexander."
I was interested to read that Ingmar Bergman was actually scared of dying. It seems that in order to create films like he did, you would have to be completely free of fear. Or perhaps so full of fear that those are the only kind of films that can be conceived...?
I am sad. A Swedish icon is gone. This is almost as traumatic as the death of Greta Garbo. Not quite, but almost. I'm sure they will be showing Bergman films non-stop on TV in Sweden now. I won't be there to see them.
We'll have to scour the foreign-language section of Blockbuster and hope for the best.
"Film as dream, film as music. No art passes our conscience in the way film does, and goes directly to our feelings, deep down into the dark rooms of our souls." -- Ingmar Bergman
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