From the King of Soho to the King of Swedish Cinema

It’s been a week of betrayal, Beecham’s 2-in-1, UKIP and dodgy sandwiches. Fear not, dear readers, the betrayal was taking place only in Westminster and at the Duke of York Theatre in the magnificent ‘Passion Play’ which I was fortunate enough to get a cheap ticket to on Friday. Once I had got over my amazement at actually being able to see the actors’ faces from my seat (an unusual occurrence!) I was able to sit back and get uncomfortable as a marriage broke down in spectacular fashion right in front of my very eyes. Brief plot summary: A couple who have been happily married for 25 years find themselves plunged into crisis when a saucy widow (with a penchant for stripping off) seduces the charming but rather clueless husband. The genius of this play is that the characters of husband and wife are also represented by two other characters who represent their inner selves creating a rich and contrasting notion of the inner struggles of the couple as they struggle to come to terms with the notions of betrayal, forbidden lust and boredom which has occurred within their unit. The acting is tremendous. The husband and wife teams have a great fluidity in the communication of movements, expression of feelings and humour. Although it may sound pretty dyer, the play is extremely entertaining and a great night out as well as a great piece. The set is perfect in its simplicity, allowing the actors to really let rip. The only let down was the hairstyles given to Zoe Wanamaker and Samantha Bond which were bloody awful. I know that this point is obscenely frivolous, but it bothered me. 'Passion Play' comes out this week and is on until the beginning of August – go and see it!

Following this pleasant distraction, I must return to the task in hand – ‘The Look of Love’! Well, more like ‘The Look of Drugs’ – I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much cocaine on screen, it makes Jack Nicholson’s character in ‘The Departed’ look like a casual sniffer. The film is essentially the story between the father and daughter pair of Paul and Debbie Raymond. He was an entrepreneur who was instrumental in the increased distribution of “Lad’s mags” and one of the great movers and shakers in the Soho club scene of the 1960s, 70s and 80s. Through property ownership he became the richest man in Britain, a fact which occurred after the death of his beloved daughter to a drugs overdose in 1992. The film itself is extremely entertaining with a script as sharp as a butcher's knife, featuring some cracking one-liners delivered by the hilarious Steve Coogan. The only reservation I have about Coogan is that I sometimes find it difficult to separate his performances in other people’s work and his great comic alter-ego, Alan Patridge – I’m sure it’s something to do with the voice. I digress…the film itself is magnificent as Michael Winterbottom perfectly captures the glamorous yet seedy and almost claustrophobic world of the Soho club scene, complete with crappy dressing rooms and dusty furnishings.  Anna Friel gives a classy yet brassy performance as Raymond’s wife, Jean and Imogen Poots does a great job at capturing the fragile character of Debbie; a girl who, deep down, is painfully aware of her lack of talent yet constantly encouraged by the love of her father. Bottom line: if you enjoy a good biopic go and see ‘The Look of Love’ – you won’t be disappointed!

So, from the King of Soho to the King of Swedish cinema…it feels a little strange to discuss two such figures within the same post – I don’t think they can in anyway be compared except in their love and fascination with beautiful women and their immense success in their respective careers; Raymond as a porn and property baron and Bergman as one of the leaders in the change in the grammar of cinema in the 20^th Century. I must admit that, given the choice, I find Bergman the more fascinating of the two. I cannot believe that in my years of watching pretty much anything that passed in front of me, with a particular emphasis on European cinematic movements, Bergman was still one of the few that I had yet to discover. He is often compared with Antonioni due to the time span in which they operated, their daring and original approach to cinema, which continues to perplex audiences and scholars alike, and for their tendency to portray subjects related to women. This is, at least, how I perceive it.

Bergman is a rare beast, as are his fine team of actors. For the record I have only seen a few of the more mainstream films (Persona, Cries and whispers, Scenes from a marriage, Autumn Sonata and two thirds of Face to face (this was until the soundtrack became skewed and transformed a terrifying psychological exploration into a Swedish farce)). The dialogue is magnificent and utterly engaging. The characters reveal all facets of human existence. In the case of the films I have seen, family is at the heart of the drama. The characters in ‘Cries and whispers’ and ‘Autumn sonata’, for example, are emotionally frozen by their incapability to communicate their greatest frustrations, fears and injustices to those who should know them best. Even the rapport between husband and wife in ‘Scenes from a marriage’ is painfully ambiguous. Their declaration as a seemingly ideal couple in the opening scene of the film inevitably sets them up for failure as cracks start to show: the husband reveals that he is to leave his wife for another woman, they argue to the point of physical violence, they find it impossible to agree or, really, communicate on any level. Yet, despite the animosity which has grown between them, they are endemically linked. They are still intimate with each other and share a common feeling of a love which they cannot find with other partners.

This notion of “can’t live with them, can’t live without them” is also particularly strong in ‘Autumn Sonata’. The mother, played by Ingrid Bergman in one of her greatest performances, is a vile and selfish character who has completely abandoned her two daughters in her blind pursuance of a career as a classical pianist. The confrontation scene initiated by the daughter, played by Liv Ullmann, is thrilling and provides the audience with a real insight to Bergman the actress as opposed to Bergman the Hollywood beauty and legend. She reveals a palate of emotions and colours which she had, in my opinion, only reached touched on in the collaborations with Rossellini. It is certainly not the best of the (Ingmar) Bergman bunch, yet still a fascinating insight into the effects a great director can have on an actor. 

One must also admit that Bergman was incredibly lucky to have such a talented team surrounding him. The actors alone are incredible – their faces, voices and mannerisms are quite unlike anything I’ve ever seen whether it be in choral pieces such as ‘Cries and Whispers’ or maintaining the excruciating tension between two characters in ‘Persona’ or ‘Scenes from a marriage’. I have merely scratched the surface in my brief ideas and perceptions about Bergman but I would encourage anybody who is a sceptic to watch some of the above mentioned films. He has a reputation for turgidity and depression yet the dialogue and performances paint quite a different picture, capturing the humour and sometimes uncomfortable truth of human relationships.

Next time pills, spills and aeroplanes: YES!! THE NEW ALMODOVAR HAS LANDED!! I’M SO EXCITED!!