Existential questions have always intrigued me. The answers
are often unanimously dogmatic, with people belonging to different wavelengths
of the colourful spectrum of opinions trying to vociferously voice his/her own
opinion as the eternal truth. The enigmatic nature of the questions sometimes
makes the answers seem equally probable, though it might not be the case in
reality. But what is this reality we are trying to define here? Isn’t reality
another name given to a product that’s a powerful edifice chiselled by the
human mind? The problem with trying to answer existential questions is that,
the answers are likely to be dictated by your subconscious. Your thoughts and
actions are guided by your beliefs, rationalism plummets to the backseat and
your emotions reign supreme. Equivocation becomes the debater’s best friend in
times of intellectual oblivion, obfuscation the obvious strategy of the
argumentative disputant trying to establish himself as the unquestionable
oracle.
The ones that try to tread on the neutral path, plainly
trying to examine the mysterious unknowns with the curiosity of an innocent
child asking his dad what exists beyond the sky and the stars are often
belittled. You’re likely to be accused of being a chicken not big enough to
form an opinion. But these opinionated myopic eyes that disparage you of being
indecisive don’t realize the fact that such a cold-eyed stance could actually
help you stay at the centre of the spectrum thus enabling you to gape at the
titanic beauty of nature which encompasses these talking heads.
A dispassionate stance, one that appreciates the
exquisiteness of the phrase “I don’t know” with all the humility in the
universe can actually lead to a comprehensive analysis that subtly tries to
take the best out of every extremist stance. The study of a mind with such a
stance or the study of a work of a person with such an attitude can be
extremely fascinating. One such mind is Ingmar Bergman and one such work is
“Through the glass darkly” , which tries to investigate diverse perspectives
from a birds-eye viewpoint, coincidentally and ironically playing god in the
process, though playing or reaching a conclusion about god maybe the last thing
on such a person’s mind.
Whether Bergman was an atheist is a debatable question but
the pointers seem to be too evident especially in the latter part of his life.
There is no explicit confession in his autobiography too, but you’re tempted
into conclusion, like in most situations, including the god question. Bergman
could have died an atheist but my instincts tell me that Bergman hadn’t formed
an opinion when he made this film. He was born into a religious family, his dad
being a pastor. He probably started questioning faith during his formative
years and “Through the glass darkly” was probably a product that resulted when
his mind was witnessing a tumultuous war between his theistic persona that
could be attributed to his upbringing and an iconoclastic, inquisitive side
that wasn’t willing to ignore the logical loopholes in his beliefs anymore. The
convolutions have resulted in one of the best films I have seen, probably the
best you are likely to see.
I’d like to share a few interesting things about the movie
here. The only female character in this movie, Karin, is shown to be a mentally
ill person. She has supernatural visions and is shown to be living in her own
sweet world and she seems to enjoy that. Her problem begins the moment the line
that separates her perceived world and the real one starts blurring. This
probably represents the state of mind of Bergman in his earlier years when he
started questioning religious faith. He wouldn’t have had problems being a
closet theist but the disastrous nature of the “disease” would have started
troubling him the moment his intellect started questioning the veracity of the
holy angels close to his heart. Rational questioning and introspection can be
assumed to be a disease only by a fanatically raised theist told to be
embroiled in his faith, come what may. His atheistic side or the rationalist
side should I say, takes over satirically as he takes a dig at revelations and
supernatural envisioning by allegorically classifying them as a mental delusion
that keeps the victim away from material reality. On the other hand, it was
hard to ignore the fact that the other characters in the movie would have
appeared to be mentally ill from Karin’s point of view. This is evident from
the way she disregards her own husband at the expense of a god that might
(MIGHT) make an entrance through a big door in that perceived reality of hers.
Bergman probably tries to imply here that the extravagant possibilities and the
positives that could arise out of the existence of such an omnipotent god
actually drive people into frenzied faith and hope that they exhibit; so much
so that they disregard the immaculate material advantages that their faculties
could appreciate, like a caring, freethinking and handsome husband in this
case.
Another thing that struck me about the characterization of
Karin is the degree of sexual exuberance and tension on exhibition, scene after
scene, something that’s brave and anachronistic considering the fact that the
film was made in the black and white era. The way she goes about happily
kissing and embracing her brother with evidently palpable lust, the manner in
which she uses subtle occasions to trigger conversations about her brother’s
sexual fantasies give us brief glimpses of the free spirit that Karin could be
without the societal limitations. The allegories happen to be the dad and her husband
for the patriarchal stranglehold the society (she moves about without restrains
and converses without inhibitions when her dad and husband are gone) has over
women and the supernatural visions for the influence of religion over the
freedom of women. The portrayal of incest again appeared to be subtle here. The
director must have had all the audacity in the world to choose incest as an
abstract representation to convey something. For a promiscuous viewer, it might
appear to be blatant proselytism of incest but the brother here probably just
represents a non-chauvinistic male community ready to give women their due with
respect to sexual freedom.
The movie has a universal theme that is likely to be
relevant perpetually. The music (J.S. Bach?) is haunting and extremely
appropriate. The film is basically a drama caught in camera but then an
intricate study of the camera is likely to reveal something else. The movie as
such is extremely talky and the director chooses to go for long shots when he
could have gone for close-ups everytime just to give us a taste of the setting
and the abstract expressionism on display. The outdoor shots in the movie are
exquisite. We often get to see the splendid, calm sea through a window as the
characters engage themselves in a serious conversation inside a room. It seemed
to be subtle mockery of the behaviour of the human race that is always
seriously involved in its own problems, failing to appreciate the beauty to the
big, gigantic embodiment of gorgeousness around it.
The dad’s character in the movie makes a good case study
again. He’s shown to be in possession of a vacuous emotional drive with the
anomalous expressive bursts happening occasionally. He finds out at one point that life is possibly pointless and
even contemplates suicide. He miraculously escapes death and the twist in the
tale enamours faith and hope in him again. He develops new found love towards
his children and becomes relatively selfless. He drops a tear at the family
reunion, the allegorical play that his children stage strikes a chord. He
garners the guts to confess his errors and makes an honest attempt to complete
his transformation process. The theist in Bergman takes over here as he even
makes an explicit statement before the curtains are drawn: “Love is the
evidence of god”. The son, Minus, asks a few questions that put his dad in a
soup but the dad reassures him that there is hope as long as there is love. The
boy appears confused, but is convinced: not because his dad was cogent but
because his dad had finally spoken. His dad, his idol, his hero probably, whose
ways were unknown to him, his symbol of hope and his personal god that he was
ready to trust.
