Loved this film this evening at Vancouver International Film Festival, while my partner says it's okay, he wouldn't mind if he hadn't seen it. What planet are (emotionally repressed) men from? Please don't say Mars— Martians would be more moved than he was by this gem of a documentary.
A different film than I was expecting: I didn't know anything about Ullman and Bergman's personal past, and was expecting something more focused on their long (almost 50 years) of collaboration in making extraordinary films. This was only partly about their shared film history together and dwelt more on their relationship, the account rendered extraordinary by Ullman's candour and towering spirit. I would look for more films from this director, though, without another such woman of character, as comfortable before the camera as Ullman, could such touching and real stuff be served up? But the film's capture has warmth and sparkle, like that old song that asks if we want to carry moonbeams home in a jar—an apt metaphor, I think, for the trick which the most artful films pull off.
Just as Bergman has bewitched and bedevilled us with his films, one's jaw drops hearing what he was like as a lover and husband in her words—both dreadful and also Ullman's gloriously prized treasure of a human connection, delivered to us in lovely to watch and listen to footage. Bravo.
A different film than I was expecting: I didn't know anything about Ullman and Bergman's personal past, and was expecting something more focused on their long (almost 50 years) of collaboration in making extraordinary films. This was only partly about their shared film history together and dwelt more on their relationship, the account rendered extraordinary by Ullman's candour and towering spirit. I would look for more films from this director, though, without another such woman of character, as comfortable before the camera as Ullman, could such touching and real stuff be served up? But the film's capture has warmth and sparkle, like that old song that asks if we want to carry moonbeams home in a jar—an apt metaphor, I think, for the trick which the most artful films pull off.
Just as Bergman has bewitched and bedevilled us with his films, one's jaw drops hearing what he was like as a lover and husband in her words—both dreadful and also Ullman's gloriously prized treasure of a human connection, delivered to us in lovely to watch and listen to footage. Bravo.