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Short summary

It's the early twentieth century Sweden. Adolescent siblings Alexander and Fanny Ekdahl lead a relatively joyous and exuberant life with their well-off extended paternal family, led by the family matriarch, their grandmother, Helena Ekdahl. The openness of the family culture is exemplified by Helena's now deceased husband ending up becoming best friends with one of her lovers, a Jewish puppet maker named Isak Jacobi, and their Uncle Gustav Adolf's open liaison with one of the family maids, Maj, who everyone in the family adores, even Gustav Adolf's wife, Alma. Between the siblings, Alexander in particular has inherited the family's love of storytelling, his parents and his grandmother who are actors and who manage their own theater. Things change for Alexander and Fanny when their father, Oscar, dies shortly after Christmas 1907. Although she truly does believe she loves him, the children's mother, Emilie, decides to marry Bishop Edvard Vergérus, who she first met as the officiate at ...

Ingmar Bergman professed to actually preferring the five-hour forty-eight minute version of the film.

At the time, the largest film ever made in Sweden (with 60 speaking parts and over 1200 extras) and the most expensive, with a budget of $6 million.

Famous Swedish song-and-dance man Jan Malmsjö, who is playing the evil bishop Vergerus, thought it was strange that director Ingmar Bergman approached him for a role very much different from anything he had done. He asked Bergman about it, who replied: "Well, I sense some hidden dark and evil streaks inside you, Jan. You have it, I have it, all of us have."

The part of Bishop Edvard Vergérus was written by Ingmar Bergman with Max von Sydow in mind. When the screenplay was completed, von Sydow was contacted about playing the role, which would have been his first in a Bergman film since The Touch (1971). Von Sydow was willing and, in fact, very excited about playing the role. However, Bergman was not aware of this, since von Sydow was in Los Angeles at the time, and could only be reached through his agent who, acting in what he perceived as von Sydow's interest, told Bergman and his producers that von Sydow would only play the role if he could have a percentage of the film's profits, in addition to his salary. The producers, already stretched to their financial limits, of course balked, and told the agent that, sadly, there could be no such compromise, and began looking for other actors to play the pivotal part. By the time von Sydow had learned why his beloved role had been taken from him, Jan Malmsjö had already been cast as the Bishop, and von Sydow lost his chance to star in what would later be known to be Bergman's "last film" (although he would play key roles in Den goda viljan (1992) and Enskilda samtal (1996), both written by Bergman). Von Sydow was furious about the incident, and, by certain accounts, still harbours a bitter grudge about it to this day.

Ingmar Bergman wanted to kick off the six-month-long shoot with "something light and happy", so the first scene that were shot was the wild pillow fight starring all the children.

Ingmar Bergman's first draft of the script, completed in 1979, consisted of about 1,000 handwritten pages.

In his autobiography, Bergman cited Charles Dickens as an influence on his screenplay.

To encourage a more natural performance from his young lead actor, Ingmar Bergman specifically didn't tell Bertil Guve what the film was about and what was going to happen in it.

Ingmar Bergman and cinematographer Sven Nykvist had a big falling-out during shooting, since Nykvist wanted to attend his ex-wife's funeral and Bergman wouldn't allow him to leave the set.

Director Ingmar Bergman suffered serious bouts of hypochondria during shooting, and imagined he had gotten both testicular and stomach cancer at the same time.

In paring down the film to exhibitable length, Bergman said he had to "cut into the nerves and lifeblood of the film".

The funeral scenes outside the church were shot by the crew since the director was sick with the flu.

Ingmar Bergman's work diary was released in Sweden in 2006, revealing that the director had intense doubt in his ability to successfully finish the large undertaking that this film presented. There are constant hypochondriacal complaints about illnesses, misery, and fear he might not finish the movie due to personal concerns.

After playing Alexander, Bertil Guve decided not to pursue a career in acting. He is now a doctor of economics.

Ingmar Bergman shot approximately 24 hours of material.

Last theatrical movie directed by Ingmar Bergman.

Ingmar Bergman's first film in his native Sweden after spending four years as a tax exile in Germany.

Liv Ullmann was originally offered the role of Emilie Ekdahl (played by Ewa Fröling) but turned it down. Ingmar Bergman was very upset and told Ullmann that she'd "lost her birthright".

Originally conceived as a four part TV movie running 312 minutes. The 178 minute version that was created for the cinemas was actually released first.

The heating in the studios didn't work too well during the winter months, so scenes had to be shot in subzero temperatures before extra radiators got properly heated.

Ingmar Bergman stated in an interview that the Ekdahl family was named after the Ekdal family in Ibsen's play The Wild Duck.

The script was written in three months. Pre-production however took a year.

Although she is an eponymous character, Fanny isn't mentioned in the theatrical version of the film until nearly an hour into its running time. Conversely, in the television version, her name is the first word spoken.

Not the first time Ingmar Bergman made a TV mini-series and released a truncated theatrical version to cinemas. He did the same with Scener ur ett äktenskap (1973).

At the end of the film when Emily introduces the idea to Helena that she wants to stage August Strindberg's brand new play "A Dream Play" and that she wishes for Helena to act with her in it, Helena is pretty pessimistic and reluctant about the whole idea and on the mention of Strindberg exclaims: "Oh no... that dreadful woman-hater!". This is somewhat of an in-joke from Bergman towards actress Gunn Wållgren (who portrays grandmother Helena): Gunn Wållgren is first of all well-known as one of Sweden's foremost Strindberg-interpretors ever and secondly; her most successful and praised part on stage was actually the part of Indra's Daughter in "A Dream Play" (a play and a part the actress also loved very much). Gunn Wållgren later in the final scene also recites the first lines of the play's prologue to Alexander.

Ingmar Bergman had Ingrid Bergman in mind when he wrote the role of Helena Ekdahl, grandmother of Fanny and Alexander. The role eventually went to Gunn Wållgren.

Shot in chronological order.

In his diary book kept during shooting, Ingmar Bergman notes that Jan Malmsjö, playing Vergérus, once collapsed due to long shooting hours combined with stage work (6 performances a week).

Ingmar Bergman intended for this to be his last feature, although he subsequently wrote several more screenplays, directed for television and indeed helmed one last cinema release, Saraband (2003).

The story takes place during a span of two years from 1907 to 1909. Alexander is supposed to be 10 years old when the events of the film commence. In real life the young actor Bertil Guve was 11 years old. However Alexander has grown and is 12 years old in the final scenes. This means that by the time the production had wrapped after a six month shooting schedule, Bertil Guve was approximately 12 years old coinciding with his character's age.

All three of the Ekdahl sons are named after Swedish kings. In fact, if we assume that the characters are the same age as the actors who played them, then Oscar Ekdahl would have been born during the reign of Oscar I (reigned 1844- 1859), and Carl during the reign of Karl XV (reigned 1859 - 1872). Gustav Adolf would also have been born three years after Oscar, and thus during the reign of Oscar I as well, so he was presumably named after Gustav II Adolph (reigned 1611 - 1632), who made Sweden an international power during the Thirty Years' War, and who is possibly more famous to movie fans as the father of Queen Christina.

Originally, Fanny and Alexander were planned to have a big sister, Amanda, two years older than Alexander, but the character was left out of the film. She does, however, appear in a book based on the screenplay.

Peter Stormare makes an uncredited appearance as one of the men helping Isak with the trunk.

Bertil Guve was cast on the strength of his appearance in a Lasse Hallström TV movie.

The film takes place from 1907 to 1910.

Gunn Wallgren and Allan Edwall play mother and son, though Edwall was born less than eleven years after Wallgren.

The film is included on Roger Ebert's "Great Movies" list.

Final film of Gunnar Björnstrand.

Film debuts of Bertil Guve and Pernilla Allwin, who play the title roles. It also marks as their only theatrical film appearance.

Included among the "1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die", edited by Steven Schneider.

Ranked number 28 non-English-speaking film in the critics' poll conducted by the BBC in 2018.

This film has a 100% rating on Rotten Tomatoes.

This film is part of the Criterion Collection, spine #263.

Ingmar Bergman: [Vergérus and Egerman] Last names used.

Ingmar Bergman's favorite scene was the one with Alexander and the mummy, much thanks to Sven Nykvist's masterful, haunted lighting.

User reviews


  • comment
    • Author: Connorise
    SPOILER: Most of the ideas revealed through mystery by Bergman in Fanny och Alexander have already been addressed by others. The first time I saw this film was in 1984, on tv and with a much shorter version than the one released in England in 2002, which is the full 300-plus minute original.

    That day I was scared -really scared- watching the scene where Alexander is been helped to let out his most evil thoughts by Ishmael, a completely mysterious character with supernatural insight. And then, a blackout. You can imagine: if I was truly scared this left me breathless.

    Then, almost twenty years passed until I found this remarkable jewel, in its full version, perfectly digitised and audio-enhanced in dvd. I bought a dlp projector and used a previewing room to show it to my students. I didn't know what was going to happen. But that doubt was worth the waiting.

    I think it's very difficult to say any other thing than breathtaking to underline what this film accomplishes. It's the reflected work of years of understanding and hard work between Bergman and Nyvqvist. One of the most powerful, beautiful, fearful and perfect films of all times. An exaggeration, like. Yes, but I think that there are no words to explain how plainly perfect this work is. The way it was written. The way it was directed. The way it was lighted. The way it was designed. The way each and every character plays his or her role. The details -not a Bergman's new- to which they paid the most dedicated attention to. The luxurious use of available light. The setting of the story. The amazing locations. Everything in this film was perfectly studied, down to the colour shifts that would take place in every shot!, forget about whole scenes!

    The troubling minds of all those characters whose lives are at crossroads. The powerful and eventful lives of just one familiy. The small and big affairs that affect them. Gratitude and hate. Honour and shame. Guilt and love. Fear and joy. Selfishness and generosity. Every long scene exudes with tension, pure fun or pleasure; with increasing uneasiness and abrupt changes of demeanor. With a richness that could only be found where a very skillful eye -trained to see what most disregard as common- finds beauty and harmony. And a sound that is as exhilarating as the narrative depiction.

    When the maxim of making "every frame a Rembrandt" comes to my mind, this film makes me think Bergman pushed the envelope a little further: he gives (or I'd rather say, Nyvqyst) the tratment of Van Der Meer or Bosch or Cezanne or Michelangelo to some scenes. (Think the kids playing at the nursery, the housemaidens sewing socks, the meadow and the boat, the transfixing scene of Alexander in the attic with his mother).

    And a story told from the eyes of two kids worth a ton of gold. Alexander's (Bertil Guve, when he was twelve-thirteen) enormously powerful and convincing role can certainly be compared to any big-theatre-role actor.

    Superb. Don't think you've seen the whole thing until you get the 5 hour full-story.
  • comment
    • Author: Drelahuginn
    Swedish director Ingmar Bergman has a reputation for dark, intellectual and introspective dramas, which is only partly justified because many of his early movies were rather light-hearted. Here is the longest movie he did (three hours), and the theatrical version is only half of the original which was twice as long. But length should not stop you from watching this jewel of a film, which is both complex and accessible. After all, "Gone with the Wind" is just as long.

    "Fanny and Alexander "isn't exactly a family movie, but it is a movie about family. Family seen in all its different facets through the eyes of two children. The film is divided into three very different parts, each of them showing a different aspect of family life. It is set in Uppsala, Sweden (Bergman's native city), at the turn of the twentieth century. The story begins on Christmas Eve, and we are plunged right away into a fairytale atmosphere.

    Fanny and Alexander"s family seems a happy one, actually a family of theatre actors. During the Christmas Eve party held at the grandmother's heavily-furnished house, the atmosphere is joyful at first glance, especially for the children who obviously feel very much at home. But reality is not just what it seems. The children's father is seriously ill. One of the uncles is manic-depressive, and the other is a skirt-chaser who has an affair with the young maid while his wife shows a lot of comprehension. Even the grandmother keeps a secret affair with a Jewish banker (played by Erland Josephson, a Bergman regular) that has lasted for many years.

    The children's world collapse as their father dies. Soon after, their still young and beautiful mother marries the bishop, whose name is Vergerus (that's the name of the villain in all Bergman's movies, don't ask me why). The atmosphere in the bishop's house could not be more different from the children's first home. It is bare, silent, freezing. Alexander and the bishop hate each other from the start. This hate culminates when the bishop flogs Alexander to punish him, during a suffocating scene. War is declared from then on. Although the children's mother is pregnant, she already regrets her second marriage and seeks help from her former family.

    The grandma's Jewish friend, who is also sort of a magician, manages to kidnap the children by a clever stratagem. They are sheltered in his house, which is full of puppets and mysterious objects. There, a strange nephew of his lives in seclusion (the role is played by a woman). From then on, reality and fantasy get blurred, but what is certain is that the evil bishop meets a cruel fate, and the children's mother finally makes it back to her former home.

    The film ends as it began, with a party. Two new babies are just born : the mother's baby she had from the wicked bishop, and the maid's baby with the luscious uncle. The two of them are accepted immediately as part of the family, which is a rather precocious sign of Scandinavian open-mindedness (in 1900, illegitimate children were generally rejected as bastards).

    Despite the title, attention is focused much more on Alexander than on Fanny. She is there all the time but speaks little, while showing unconditional solidarity with her brother. A possible reason is that the movie seems to have strong autobiographical elements, more than any other Bergman, and if so, Alexander seems to incarnate Bergman himself as a child. Bergman's father happened to be a minister, and the director confessed that he was raised in a very oppressive manner. Thus, it is quite possible that Alexander's step family is a representation of Bergman's real family, while Alexander's real family is the family Bergman had dreamed of, unsurprisingly a family of actors.

    This film also displays the most accomplished use that Bergman's renowned photographer Sven Nykvist ever made of color. He was a long time reluctant to color and kept shooting in black and white well into the sixties. Bergman's first color movies had nothing special, until "Cries and whispers" where an obsessive use of red started to appear. The color contrasts are very strong in "Fanny and Alexander", and are especially used to underline the difference between the grandmother's colorful home and the bishop's house which is mostly all black and white.

    There are many characters in this story, and all the major adult roles are played by actors who are all very famous in Sweden. There is a special appearance by Harriet Andersson, who played the female lead in many Bergmans of the fifties, especially well remembered as the whimsical "Monika". Here, she is ungratefully cast as the bishop's elderly tormented servant who likes scaring the children with horror stories. As for the young maid, she is played Pernilla Wallgren, who married Danish director Bille August and became later famous as Pernilla August. She played the lead in "The best intentions" directed by Bille August but based on a script by Bergman, and also taking place in Uppsala at the turn of the twentieth century...
  • comment
    • Author: Samardenob
    As Ingmar Bergman's "swan song" (which wasn't necessarily the case once After the Rehearsal and the recent Saraband were released), Fanny and Alexander was a film I saw many months ago, in its truncated, 3-hour version. I knew I had witnessed something special, something life-affirming, and above all a work that contained enough poetry, passion, and humanity for two movies. But I also felt as if there was something missing here and there. So, once the complete TV version was released, as with Scenes from a Marriage, I jumped at the opportunity to view it in its entirety. Broken up here into 5 Acts, Bergman takes another semi-autobiographical approach to his storytelling, and it's a sumptuous tale of a turn of the 20th Century family (the Ekdahls, comprising of Oscar and Emilie, the parents, Fanny and Alexander, the kids- Alexander being mostly the driving force behind the story- and also the other relatives Carl and Gustov Adolf, brothers of Oscar, Helena, Alma, Lydia, and also the housemaid Maj) who own a theater company.

    What makes Fanny and Alexander work as a major achievement, if anything else for my money is that all the elements seem balanced out over the acts, with story and characters, each sharply defined. The first act unfolds with attention to the little details and the more prevalent ones in a family gathering. A key speech made by Oscar is a haunting bit of foreshadowing before they set off for the family dinner. This scene, involving more or less two dozen people, is sometimes very funny, sometimes a little unnerving, and towards the end depressing. But scenes such as these reveal how wonderful and exciting Bergman can be with his material and actors- despite it taking place in 1907, you can see these people in modern settings just as easily. There's also the scene involving Oscar with his children before they go to sleep, in which he tells them a story, which ranks as one of the more memorable, touching scenes of the film - from here, we can understand how this brings to Alexander (Bertil Guve, in a performance that is touching by being so straightforward with the innocence of child-hood) to the state he's in for much of the rest of the picture.

    Then the second and third acts come around, and the tragedy unfolds as penetrating as I've seen in any film, much less from Bergman. It wouldn't spoil it to say that Oscar succumbs to an illness, and passes away. From here, Emilie (Ewa Fröling, a performance meant for Liv Ullman, which she fits just as well) tries to go on as usual, and it just doesn't feel the same. She seeks counsel from the village bishop, Edvard Vergerus (Jan Malmsjo, previously in Bergman's Scenes from a Marriage), and subsequently falls in love with him, or at least thinks she does. They get married, and the children are forced into leaving (almost) everything behind to live at his dreary, caged residence, a far cry from where they once lived, a place lush with colors and life in the rooms. Both of these assets are provided by an Oscar winning production design team, and the foundations of how these two, including as well the theater, display how period-perfect some of this can be.

    The last two acts are when things get rough, which is a standard Bergman is known for. This kind of standard, if I could call it such, includes his personal connection to the Christian church, in particular with his father being a Lutheran priest. I'm not guessing on how fact based Bishop Vergerus is to Bergman's life, and I really don't want to either. One of the things I loved about the film (than some likely hated on it's original release- I know, for example, that my father was devastated after watching this film) is how the good and the bad, or what could be seen as good and bad, are paired off, and how the middle-ground is just as clear or un-clear. Emilie is a good person, wanting the best for her children and for herself, but she doesn't know how to do that without someone to bring guidance when she cannot after grieving for her dead husband (who appears sometimes to Alexander, which is another matter). Alexander, who is a child raised with all the enthusiasm to express himself as such by his uncles and particularly his theatrical father Oscar, is good but lending himself to not being too firm on what's real and what is not.

    The Bishop, on the other hand, is one who, as he says at one point "has only one mask". His is a puritanical approach, who sees imagination in only one strict aspect, and has terms of love that are by his code of living and understanding of people. Veregus, along with his family that live in fear and suffering (Harriet Andersson's character, and with the character of the heavy, ill aunt), know little is anything about how the Ekdahls have lived. What ends up happening, even from the get-go of the third act, in the fourth and fifth acts Bergman reveals Bishop Veregus to be an immense antagonist, one that allows just enough sympathy in one or two spots to not throw something at the TV, but with the kind of language that only the most terrifying of movie characters possess. Bottom line, this character, whether you like the film or not, is one of Bergman's greatest creations, and is pulled off by Malmjso with icy, disturbing perfection; it's one of the most memorable of the kind in film I can think of, right up there with Nurse Ratched, HAL 9000, and Darth Vader.

    But what torment and anguish the characters, as well as much of the audience, seem to endure in the fourth/fifth acts; there also comes revelatory moments of sheer beauty and enchantment. A couple of scenes involving Alexander in the puppet shop, for example, display a level of artistry that goes between Bunuel and Disney. And a particular, long soliloquy by Isak (Erland Josephsson, not under-used at all) to the children is a poem unto itself that gives me an idea that Bergman had he not gone into theater and film, would've been one of the great poets of the 20th century. As the catharsis comes, it comes with a kind of justice that works in the only way it satisfyingly could have. With the fates of the Bishop, Emilie, and Alexander and Fanny brought to a close, as with the Grandmother, the uncles and aunts, and so on, it's all very symbolic, metaphorical, and real, and it gels together.

    One last note- Sven Nykvist, who one his second Oscar with Bergman for this film, creates the kinds of shots that some could only have in their dreams. When he visualizes something for Bergman with the forces of light and dark, with the subtlety and nuance, it's all the better. To put this all in another way, I could go on and on about this huge, heart-rendering work, but it all comes down to this- as an emotional, intellectual, and spiritual (surprisingly for me, who sees religion as a kind of fantasy) sort of film-viewing experience, Fanny and Alexander is one of the most profound I've ever had. Some may feel the same; some may want to forget they ever experienced it. But one thing the film does is stick with you, if only for a little while, and that's really what a film can and should do....by the way, the 5-hour version, at least in America, is only available on a high-priced special edition DVD pack from Criterion, but for the viewer who's already a fan of the film, it makes for a great holiday gift. A++
  • comment
    • Author: Love Me
    "Fanny and Alexander" (1982) was announced at the time of its release as Ingmar Bergman's swan song, his last film for the big screen. It is his most optimistic and enchanting blend of romance, tragedy, comedy, fantasy, and mysticism. Set in Sweden in the beginning of the 20th century, the film follows the lives and adventures of two children, brother and sister Fanny and Alexander Edkahl.

    I love Bergman in every mood and in every genre - I love him dark, bleak, harrowing ("Shame"), mysterious ("Persona"), merciless and devastating ("Scenes from a Marriage, "Face to Face", "Autumn Sonata). I love his lighter, smiling side ("Wild Strawberries", "Smiles of a Summer Night). Even for a master of Bergman's powerful talent, "Fanny and Alexander" is extraordinary - a profound film which is also one of his most accessible works.

    Pablo Picasso said once, "When I was 9 years old, I could paint like Rafael; as an adult, all my life I tried to learn how to paint like a child". In his final film, one of the greatest masters of dark and sometimes morose psychological studies looks at the world with a child's eye. The words he chose to finish his film with reflect the hope, the happiness and the magic that can be fully felt only in one's childhood: "...Anything can happen, anything is possible. Time and space do not exist. ..On a flimsy ground of reality, imagination spins out and waves new patterns." --- August Strindberg's introductory notes for A Dream Play.
  • comment
    • Author: Beazezius
    I am not one for putting up idols on pedestals; mostly Bergman's films leave me tepid or even cold. But Fanny och Alexander is a splendid production, beautifully made, so superb it even evokes feelings of having come from a novel. Excellent characterization throughout, all the way down the cast, lending that magic touch to the costuming of the early 1900s. Mesmerising throughout, the film is not a single minute too long. The development of the story-line is superbly handled in an absorbing and coherent manner, manifesting the great empathy between director and actors. If the cinematography is visual poetry, the script is philosophical and full of awareness or consciousness of things in life, but not at a pretentious, abstract and theoretical level, but at a real human dimension.

    If you only have 10 videos in your collection, Fanny och Alexander should be one of them. My vote is a bit higher than the IMDb average.

    These comments refer to the 3-hour version.
  • comment
    • Author: Hadadel
    This film could never have been made in the United States. I realize when it was made Bergman had been around for a long time and had his own clout but it still has too much of a philosophical slant to be mainstream here. This film is amazing. The first hour moves at a slow pace but it really sets up the rest of the movie well and then it really picks up. The cinematography is breathtaking and while this story makes you think a lot you don't feel ambivalent towards the characters through the rest of the first film after having been slowly introduced to all the characters you have a certain identifcation that is purely emotional and blends wonderfully with the other aspects of the film. It's truly great and should be considered one of Bergman's best works.
  • comment
    • Author: Pruster
    I have wanted to see this film for years but I have missed it several times they were showing it on television.And also because of my father does not like Bergman(why??) but still think that this film is fantastic.I saw it yesterday just after having read Bergman´s autobiography and this film is much a autobiographical film.

    I would like to say something about the cinematography and acting.But what is there more to say about Sven Nykvist´s cinematography then MASTERFUL.Before I saw the film I read in a newspaper that this is the best Swedish acting film ever made and it was actually picked as number two as the best Swedish film ever made for a couple of years ago(film fans voted).The WHOLE cast acts SUPERB,I am not sure if I have ever seen anything more perfect.

    This is a chronicle over a family.It has a a great poetic script that combines just as it sad in a other comment:striking visuals.Bergman has really done this to a masterpiece.Now I want to see the five-hour version(i saw the 3 hour version).Colorful,perfect,frightening and sometimes even funny.What I guess I liked most was that they showed everything from the children´s eyes.One of Bergman´s best.5/5
  • comment
    • Author: Doulkree
    Fanny and Alexander isn't utterly terrible. I enjoined parts of the film very much and thought I'd gotten the hang of it on several occasions. However, the film has several peculiarities that make me question Bergmans talent for composing a unity.

    The whole film seems to be merely a series of loosely connected scenes. Is Bergmans ambition to make a realistic portrayal of the times (the beginning), a lascivious farce (the erotic adventures of Gustav Adolf), an artistic endeavour to portray children's odd fantasies and views of the illogical adult world (the end)? For me, Bergman seems to fail completely in composing a cohesive film.

    The big interest in the film lies on the personalities of the characters, and Bergman does succeed in portraying the bigger part of them credibly (Alexander, Carl, Oscar, the bishop). However, illogical characteristics of other characters make me doubt Bergmans understanding of the human nature. For example: Gustavs wife lets Gustav play around with other women without feeling jealousy. This could work if only the film in the whole would aim on being a farce or allegory of sexual oppression of women. In the context of the rest of the film, however, these details spoil the credibility of the film as a character study.

    In the case of the bishop Bergman seems to rely on insufficient reasons for making him appear as such a beast of a man. Why does Emelie suddenly start hating her husband so passionately? He is slimy and idealistic but nonetheless the same man with whom she originally fell in love. Bergman doesn't motivate these feelings, and for me, paradoxically, the bishop appears to be the true victim - haunted by an ignorant director. As far as the bishop's injustice is concerned I take it that spanking wasn't uncommon in those days. Nevertheless, Emilies hate becomes known already before the punishing.

    Also, I couldn't really comprehend the poetic and incredible ending. Later, I read on the internet how to interpret the scene where Isak comes to save the children. Putting this scene in the context of the rather realistic earlier parts of the film, it seems to me far-fetched that Isak should have conjured the children in the chest invisible and at the same time made their bodies show up in their room to convince the bishop he wasn't taking them anywhere.

    Considering these confusing aspects of the film I wonder how much was cut from the original five-hour film. On the other hand, it is self-evident that skillful cutting and planning plays an important part when rating a film. Fanny and Alexander should be understandable without having to see any edited scenes.

    Regardless of what is said above, I refuse to believe that the whole film-loving world could have been fooled to like Fanny and Alexander. I must have missed the point somewhere on the way. Maybe the film needs a second chance.
  • comment
    • Author: Amarin
    You could call this my opinion of Bergman's Fanny and Alexander...as opposed to a review. I really don't feel the need in describing or summarizing this film. Any review, as I see it, would be pointless. Words just can't convey what makes a truly great movie as good as it is. The best "review" I could give Fanny and Alexander is to just see the damned thing. If you can't sit through it, so be it. But, those who are willing to give it their attention, I promise, will be rewarded continuously through the film's duration. Anyone who sits through the entire film, especially the full-length version, I think, will find it difficult to say that they were bored. More than likely, they will find it easy to say, "That was a damned good movie." I, myself, was surprised. Previous to seeing F&A, I had never seen a film quite this long. I'm glad I did. I'll also throw this in: most film buffs, I think it's safe to say, will always consider Bergman to be the master of gloom. This may be true, but I think Fanny and Alexander proves beyond any doubt that his ability to express the joy that exists in life is every bit as great, and truly refreshing.
  • comment
    • Author: Water
    Although I have disliked Bergman's earlier films and thought they were by far too overrated, that did not apply to this film. I saw the director's-cut version, over five hours. A little long, yes, and there is not much music, but it's not slow, like Tarkovsky's films can be.

    The opening is great, and the first act, the first one and a half hour, was the part I liked the very most. The realism is utter, so is the casting; the best acting I have seen in a Swedish film, it's amazing. I can't complain about any actor, they were all extremely good. So is the dialog. Alexander had a typical upper class look, so did his grandmother, who looked extremely fresh and healthy and beautiful, for her age. All together, the language and milieus are very credible. No over-colorful costumes and silly dialogs, that is such a frequent element nowadays in historical plays, especially from America.

    Bergman succeeds to capture the customs and behavior that were used (and to some extent still is used) within the Swedish upper class, as well as general Swedish customs and behavior. I know this, because I am familiar with it and have partly experienced it myself. The result is sometimes amazing. Bergman succeeds to capture the atmosphere of the old times, through language and decoration. The photo is at time dazzling; some scenes are identical to 19th century Swedish painting, and I get the thought that Bergman turned to these in search for the right setting of the film.

    Unlike early works by Bergman, which tend to be somewhat theatrical, the keyword here is realism, which I appreciate greatly. The actors manage, like I said, to speak and play in a way that I feel was customary at that period of time. It might be too much to claim this work to be a Swedish Tarkovsky film, but I sensed it had some philosophical material, and it is definitely thoughtful. Otherwise, I think it is worth watching for the acting and dialog alone.

    One of the best Swedish films ever made, and Bergman's best, in my opinion. (9/10)
  • comment
    • Author: Broadraven
    Perhaps the most impressive feature of this wonderful film is the humility with which its creator presents it to the world, as if it were no grander than the old-fashioned Nativity-play shown in the early scenes at the Theatre.

    At the end of this experience - to term it with any mere technical tag, like 'movie', would be inadequate - Bergman's profoundly grown-up disillusionment has transformed into the pure spirituality of abnegation and acceptance. His intellectual pilgrimage, through possibly the greatest career in films, finds the director arriving back where he began, with the great simplicities of life. But there is a difference with his return, which is that his prodigality over the years has burnt the rage out of him, and finally allowed him to 'enjoy what may be enjoyed' (as one of the Ekdahls says), without further fretting over the puzzle of human existence. From all this human folly (he clearly feels) comes the only wisdom, which is - simply - to be human.

    It is, indeed, a film like no other for allowing the pieces of experience to settle into their appointed places. There is a beautiful quality of selfless resignation, in this last of his works for cinema, which finally and forever excels the sadistic disciplines of The Bishop.

    This perverted creature confesses, to the new wife whom he has lost, how it is impossible to 'tear off the mask' as it is 'burned into my face': He is become an authoritarian '... a rite, a law, a custom - not a man'. [Shelley] Having put the notional love of God before that of humankind, there is nowhere for his personality to be re-enacted in the bosom of any kindly recollections that will survive him. Except in that of Alexander/Bergman, where his two, each-in-their-own-way terrifying, fathers, both the White and the Black opposites of an imagination flickering with the director's haunted vision, will project forever onto his Cinematic arena of stark absolutes the inner strife where each of us is locked away, struggling to endure the turmoil of these eternally irreconcilable truths.

    The White Knight and The Black Bishop: These are phantom moves in our great game with Death, and pieces that will be returned into play for as long as humanity continues. How like Chess Life is: Just a game we play, with arbitrary rules, and yet whose progress is of supreme and abiding concern to each and every one of us.

    This great work is a monument to play, in all its senses, not least the play of light and the play of ideas, both equally insubstantial and yet the essence of reality, eloquent as the silence of a great, roofless Cathedral. Out of the Ruin of Faith, Bergman has wrought a Peace that passeth understanding. And it is in this ultimate by-passing of the relentless structures of intellect that Bergman finally achieves the resolution of his productive neuroses, in a truly magical film whose every phase is as inevitable as breathing, or the changeable and unimpeded weather.

    As the grandmother reflects. at last, 'I don't want to put Life together anymore. I just leave it broken. Strangely, it seems better that way.'

    Death, in the end, is not a calamity, but the choice of all who have truly known Life. In other words, to choose Life is to accept its Dark partner, Death. And to accept each as part of the family group, even though they seem complete misfits there.

    The old lady, with Strindberg's Dream-play in her lap, knows at last that the whole history of her family is only a personal reverie. And yet how much more real it seems than her son Carl's immature and somewhat absurd, angst-ridden railings against 'cruel Fate'!

    Had he only accepted his patient wife's gently sympathetic injunction to 'Never mind' the Professor would have been both wiser and happier, enduring with patient fortitude the oceanic inconsequentialities of life's real Mystery, and attending far less to the trivial pseudo-mysteries of his solipsistic men's club. All his morbid rationalising is precisely as much use in real life as the usual state of alcoholic befuddlement which is the only serious pursuit of this club.

    Reason as befuddlement; The sleep of reason as deliverance. With saint-like humility, Bergman gives us back our ordinary human life, as he surrenders his exceptional life in films. But he knows that the ghost of this life will always be with us. His anguished worldliness will haunt us - as the Ghost of Hamlet's father must haunt Alexander - forever.
  • comment
    • Author: Enalonasa
    Clocking in at 3 hours this is a long movie and it is rambling as well. Ingmar Bergman with his cinematographer Sven Nyqvist has made a gorgeous looking film, the art and set direction is exemplary.

    The film is set in a Swedish town in the early years of the 20th Century. The focus is on the Ekdahl household, a theatrical and gregarious family, there is warmth and bawdiness.

    Fanny and Alexander have a seemingly idyllic family life but things change when their father Oscar dies from a stroke. Now the children become more important in the film, almost soon their mother Emilie marries the Bishop Edvard, who lives an austere lifestyle with his family. The children are not happy under this stern household which is a contrast to the warmth and love that had previously existed.

    In its kernel, the film is not that far departed from David Copperfield. The priest is really Mr Murdstone, who has charmed the beautiful widow but has a heart of darkness that Alexander immediately senses. As Edvard cannot gain the children's respect he becomes a brute.

    The film also borrows from magical realism especially in the latter part as a Jewish family comes to the rescue of the children and revenge is taken against Edvard who refuses to let their mother go.

    The film is leisurely paced, the second half is more interesting plot wise, although you end up shouting at the screen at Emilie. Why does she want to marry so soon and accepts Edvard's conditions. She really did not care for her children's well being at all and puts them all at risk.

    In some ways this is Bergman's most accessible film, light and darkness but it is also too long, even self indulgent.
  • comment
    • Author: Nayatol
    The problem with any great artist is that it becomes easy to rest on one's laurels, become self-indulgent, or settle for mediocrity. After all, the fans will always stick by you.

    Fanny and Alexander, Bergman's farewell to the cinema (in more ways than one since it was made for television) is a problematic film - it is a well crafted work, but undistinguished, not nearly as great as some of his past achievements. Can one blame him? Not really - nobody hits a home run every time at bat.

    Fanny and Alexander is a long (over 3 hours) Dickensian period piece that lacks much of the trademark Bergman touches. It's well made, but not significantly different from many historical melodramas and made-for-TV mini-series' that were the hallmark of U.S. broadcast television in the 1980s. The story primarily deals with two young siblings and their trials and tribulations following the death of their father. Really it's mostly about the boy, Alexander, as his sister, Fanny is pretty much an ominpresent non-entity in the proceedings. There are also a lot of dead-end subplots featuring the children's aunts, uncles, and other relatives. And, save for a few detours into the metaphysical (mostly in the last 10 minutes), there is little to distinguish it from a run-of-the-mill Victorian soap opera.

    The cast - all of them - turn in fine performances, and while I can't really recommend this film whole-heartedly, I really can't knock it either. Perhaps a good time-passer if you are bedridden and need a 3 hour diversion.
  • comment
    • Author: Styphe
    There are so many things I want to say about this film that I don't even know where to begin. I guess I'll start by saying that this has been the shortest 5 hours I've spent watching a film. At first I had planned to watch it in parts as the film is divided in acts, but I was so instantly taken, engrossed and fascinated, that I just felt like watching the whole thing in one sitting. I know that a 5-hour long film can sound very intimidating and exhausting, but the film is specifically divided in 5 distinguishable acts that make it more digestible, and believe me, it's so absorbing that you will barely notice you spent all that time watching it; it's that good. I've skimmed through the 3-hour theatrical version, and while it is a great film, some of my favorite parts are either shortened or completely cut from the film, which for me, lessens the impact the whole 5-hour extended TV version has. Both versions work, of course, but if you want to get a greater understanding of Bergman's vision, I totally recommend the extended version.

    Now onto the film itself. What can I say? It's magnificent. A grand, rich and glorious tapestry of life, family, love, hate, imagination, art, fantasy, reality, religion, magic, death, faith, spirituality, God, despair, redemption, youth, innocence, maturity, old age and the supernatural. Fanny and Alexander is all of these things and even more. I don't want to go into much plot detail, but point out what I liked so much about the film by mentioning some of my favorite scenes and commenting on them. And in this film there are plenty. Rarely I've felt the sense of familial warmth and love in a film or elsewhere as I have with Fanny and Alexander. The first act shows us a Christmas dinner family celebration, and it is instantly intoxicating and beguiling, and you're instantly drawn to these flawed-yet-loving and caring characters that constitute this large, happy family and Bergman's direction is so vivid that you totally feel the joy in sharing and the affection and love. One of my favorite scenes in this part is Oscar's (the family patriarch and owner of the family theater) heartfelt and candid speech about the importance of the theater, this "little world" as it is referred to, and how art can reflect the "big world" and help us have a greater endurance during bad times. This theme is more thoroughly explored in an enchanting and beautiful scene in which Oscar explains to Fanny and Alexander through the simple story of a chair how art is connected to life, how important and essential art is in enriching our lives, helping us have a deeper awareness and appreciation of the world at large, and how there is more to what meets the eye, an inner life lying underneath the surface of things. Bergman was raised within a very strict and oppressive family, and I'm pretty sure that the Ekdahls is the kind of family (Loving, supportive, encouraging, freethinkers) he would've liked to be raised in. I echo his (likely) sentiment. Likewise, if I got a profound sense of love and family in the first act, when tragedy strikes in the second act, I got a great sense of suffering and despair. One of the most strikingly moving scenes in the film involves Oscar's wife, Emilie, giving these primal, animal cries of grief over her dead husband; the scene is simply heart-wrenching. Similarly engrossing, is the open and penetrating conversation between Emilie and the bishop about her faith and her spiritual confusion and longing. But in the third and fourth acts is when the characters' resilience are really put to the test. None of the pain, humiliation and the frailty of the human heart throughout the film is better illustrated in a scene of tremendous impact in which Alexander is severely punished by the bishop and Fanny has no other option but to stand and watch as her brother is being physically abused, only moments later to see her defiantly turn down the bishop's affections. Another favorite scene during this act is Helena's - the family matriarch - beautiful and eloquent soliloquy to her son Oscar about the joys and pains in life, the futility of fighting against its forces and just living it as it comes. It is what it is. Another standout is Isak Jacobi's (a family friend and magician) metaphorical story that encapsulates the importance and at the same time the futility of searching for meaning in life. Some of the film's most intriguing, revealing and fantastical moments are in this act. In what's probably the greatest moment in a film full of great moments, is Alexander's encounter with a mysterious character named Ismael. I think this scene is the climax of the film as it brings closure to Alexander's arch. There's also a deep sense of the supernatural as it is suggested that everything, fantasy and reality, the logical and unexplainable, the material and the ethereal, the good and even the bad, is a manifestation of God. I feel that with those statements, Bergman is telling us that he probably managed to finally exorcise the demons that had been haunting him throughout his life, or at least come to terms with them, as his on screen alter ego Alexander has as well. All of this told, detailed and presented with the skill of a master storyteller.

    I was fully enraptured by this film. I love the way it beautifully conveyed the relevance of art and imagination and how they're actually essential for humanity. I loved how it showed life in all its joyful, fantastical, realistic, tragic, resigned and ultimately hopeful glory. I loved its sense of completeness yet also leaving the viewer with an air of mystery that implies the endless possibilities of life. A masterpiece and easily one of my favorite films ever.
  • comment
    • Author: Whitebeard
    I've seen a good amount of Bergman's films - I love Persona, Cries and Whispers, Scenes From A Marriage, and the Virgin Spring in particular - but this is the first one I've watched where I kind of reacted with a shrug upon finishing it. I didn't dislike it exactly, but the whole thing seemed to evaporate from memory afterwards and didn't leave a lasting impression on me like some of his other films.

    This seems to be one of those films where I can appreciate and admire many things about it: the performances, the elaborate production design, costumes, the ambition and scope ... but without any of it having any great effect.

    I suppose part of my problem with it was that I felt it was somewhat uneven and lacking in focus. It's supposed to be from the point of view of a young boy, but I never felt like we were ever following him - his character only really becomes of importance in the second act ... the rest of the time, he seems to only wander into the narrative from time to time as if he were a secondary character. Because of this, I never felt like I knew him as a character or the nature of his relationship with the father before he died ... as a result, Alexander's pain and preoccupation with death/ghosts/visions never felt earned and just seemed contrived and out of place.

    The first act reminded of the first third of the Deer Hunter where it's sort of a panoramic portrait of a close-knit group of people - this was interesting to me and I enjoyed the interaction between many of the characters ... but these relationships become minor subplots of little consequence or are left by the wayside altogether. So it's kind of like what's the point of introducing these narrative strands if they are not going to be developed any further? Basically, the film felt like Bergman had bitten off more than he could chew and wanted to throw everything he could into this story of a family (which was intended as his swan song), with several narrative strands that lack pay off or development - they're of little consequence and end up distracting from the subsequent focus of the narrative (the mother's marriage to the bishop).

    The second act of the film was the most compelling for me: the conflict between the bishop and Alexander ... but this shift of focus was jarring because after the first act, I felt like we get very little of the rest of the family. It's as if Bergman really didn't know what he wanted this movie to be: a tapestry of a family that chronicles each member, a coming of age story focusing on the child, a smaller domestic melodrama with an authoritarian bishop parental figure ...

    Overall, I suppose my main problem with the film was how Bergman chose to structure the narrative, which I felt was too broadly outlined ... which resulted in something very bloated and ponderous. Still enjoyed much of it, but not something I see myself revisiting anytime soon.
  • comment
    • Author: Andromakus
    I absolutely detest making distinctions like this, but I would rate this the best movie of all time purely on the way it affected me. Viewing this film for the first time left me with the feeling that I would never again experience the world in quite the same way. The second time only deepened my appreciation for the simplicity of the story and the depth and precision of every detail. The third time I viewed the five hour Swedish Television version and realized that I was watching the equivalent of a Tolstoy novel on film.

    The highest compliment I can pay to this movie is that in being a child of the eighties, an adolescent and young adult in the 90's, and well, now venturing towards middle age in this young century, few works of media or "art" escape my mind's deconstruction of them, or my generation's greatest blessing (or greatest curse:) a very well developed sense of irony.

    Fanny and Alexander (along with a few of Bergman's other films including 'The Virgin Spring" and "Wild Strawberries") is the exception to this rule. There is no way to simply break down how Bergman casts the spell he does. His work gathers you in, completely envelopes you, and at the same time is utterly impenetrable to any form of rational criticism. In the end you are left with a pure emotional response to what you just experienced with little idea of how Bergman took you to that place. You believe television, media, advertising, the constant bombardment of images into your brain has desensitized you to pain, agony, regret, violence, disappointment, dreams, longings and questions of God and death, and then Bergman gets a hold of you. I can only say this work is what one would call truly "spiritual" art, and Bergman's films are the only place I have ever experienced this phenomena.

    If cinema is the closest we have to a truly "magical" experience, then Bergman is and perhaps forever will be the greatest magician of them all. Fanny and Alexander should be preserved along with the works of the greatest masters of art in any medium. Every time I see this film, no matter what state of mind I'm in, it somehow makes me fall in love with movies and life all over again.

    Thank you, Mr. Bergman, for spending your life sharing your dreams, visions and nightmares with us. You have made this world an infinitely richer place for your efforts.
  • comment
    • Author: Gavirgas
    This is Ingmar Bergman's semi-autobiographical Life and Times of wealthy theater family Ekdahl in 1907 Uppsala, mainly told from the eyes of young Alexander as his mother is widowed, remarries a harsh bishop, and moves into his church estate with both the children. A fairly gripping saga, gorgeously photographed and sumptuously produced, with marvelous performances from Malmsjö and Wållgren... but mostly a more artistic gem to admirably behold rather than be moved by and involved in. Considered a masterpiece by many, not by me. Why?

    Well, I caught the 188 min' version, and many bits - although enjoyable on their own, such as Kulle's monologues and erotic shenanigans - seem to be from completely different films altogether in tone, patched up to a big quilt with unfitting seams, in contrasting the children's ghastly torment of their stepfather (Alexander's head-to-head battles of will with him IS a highlight), with the unrelated, more easy-going content from the family's head estate. The relatives fates from the first act are unresolved and completely detached from the remaining main story: Emilie, her failed re-marriage and the children's struggle. They all honestly don't evoke terribly much emotional sympathy because we don't really get to know them; for example, Alexander misses his dead father and hates his stepfather... and that's basically all. And we also really have no other sign of the family's togetherness than their spoken confirmations, which contribute to this film's most disjointed, highly inconsistent feel with quite a few leaps in the storyline. Perhaps the TV-series version is more cohesive?

    Bergman's love for the theater is of course ubiquitous, both in establishing the family's relation to it, as well as much of the overly theatrical acting/line delivery, heavily metaphysical & religious symbolism and solemn theme presentation (with a nod to August Strindberg at the end). That style blend is of course a matter of preference, and I'm not a huge fan of it, presented this way (NOTE: this is my third Bergman altogether). And one major question truly arises: where the hell is Fanny in this movie? A character with her name in the title, has no impact on anything whatsoever in a story spanning 3 hours... how can that be?

    6 out of 10 from Ozjeppe
  • comment
    • Author: Bludworm
    There, its been said. Now viewers can be honest about this disjointed, inconsistently written, poorly edited, mediocre film. To be fair though, the acting, set designs, and cinematography were high points. Skimming some of the IMDb reviews before seeing this film, I came across comments like, "Every frame a Rembrandt", "triumphant", "Bergmans swan song is his ultimate masterpiece", "could be the best European film of all time". i just wish I read some of the reviews with less than nine or ten stars before I invested over three(!) hours on it. With a Metascore of 100, apparently no critic wants to be criticized for 'not getting it', for not being able to appreciate the artfulness of this mess. But if you don't derive your paycheck from reviews, you don't have to deceive yourself or pretend to like it. Be real and and admit it was just OK. And by the way; Seven Samurai was horrible. Come on, you know its true!
  • comment
    • Author: Aver
    This is, without a doubt, the single most perfect film ever made. No other film has ever left me feeling as fulfilled as Fanny and Alexander. It unfolds like a rich novel, full of multi-dimensional characters, and takes the viewer on a journey of discovery -- of love, loss, laughter, despair, God, truth, and the supernatural.

    This film is haunting and beautiful, more finely detailed, photographed and acted than any film I have ever seen.

    These were my thoughts upon seeing the 3-hour theatrical version for the first (and second, and third...) time in the mid-'80s. I was so enthralled by this movie that I was hesitant to see the recent Criterion release of the full 5-hour-plus version originally filmed for Swedish television. I was worried I would be disappointed or that my all-time favourite film would somehow be diminished.

    I could not have been more wrong. The full 312-minute version of Fanny and Alexander is even more rich, more haunting, more compelling, more insightful and more emotionally impactful than the theatrical version. It is more novelesque, and treats the viewer to the most multi-dimensional characters ever put to film, and with some of the best performances ever captured. It is a great work of film art and storytelling, with intricacies never realized before or since, made with incredible love and determination by the two most talented filmmakers ever to treat us with their skills -- Ingmar Bergman and Sven Nykvist.

    THE masterpiece.
  • comment
    • Author: Braendo
    The film, of course, is well directed, actors are pleasant (although the children Fanny and Alexander are not much seen during the first half), and background/costumes provide additional value, enabling this sequence of different scenes to be combined and better understood. At times it seems like 17th-18th century opera (only without music) where decorations and luxurious clothes form an integral part of performance. Fortunately, the film is not black-and-white.

    However, I am not so much into the-rich-cry-too films, and Fanny och Alexander is definitely one of them. It is always so that there are intrigues, hate and idleness around wealth and money, but less wealthier will never understand this -- for them, making their daily living is the most important and all-comprehending issue.

    As for the historic dramas, I prefer e.g. British or French similar ones (Howards End, for example). And noble life in Uppsala seems (and surely was) more dull and less majestic than in Western Europe.
  • comment
    • Author: Boraston
    This film is cinema as poetry and moves along like a wonderful dream. I am fond of stories centred around families anyway but this takes the family and explores many different corners of how you are affected by your kin. All this of course happens through the eyes of two small children though mainly Alexander. It contains so many moments of sheer emotion, my favourites being the confrontation between the two brothers and the bishop, the appearance of God and the father to the boy and the end scene. A great deal of symbolism peppers the film and Bergman takes hold of the material with such expertise that one cannot turn away at any point. This film is a real treasure and I advise anyone to watch it and love it as the latter comes very easily. I know that Bergman has a reputation for being heavy handed (is this a crime?) but this film is a lyrical song to the family and should be compulsive viewing. The fact that this film is over four hours is irrelevant, as this is often the first thing people comment on when the title is mentioned. Go and see this film today as it is quite remarkable.
  • comment
    • Author: Uylo
    I need to see this again, if only to get a better look at the Grandmother's house. I loved this film on so many levels - I liked the ideas presented in the movie and all that but mostly I loved staring into their lovely faces and taking in all the interiors. Oh heck, the exteriors too, now that I think of it. It's the best kind of movie, there's so much to see, to think about, to feel and to experience. And to admire.

    I like it that it's a little loopy and fantastic, which usually turns me off completely in movies and literature because when the creator trots out fantastic elements I almost always feel like they're over reaching and could have used ordinary life as a vehicle of expression but are too lazy. It's like they want to underline it: big idea folks! Don't miss it. IB takes a bunch of schlocky devices and proves that in the right hands, they all can work: the imagining of the fire, for instance, or the stark face off of good and evil, or the dangerous homosexual, the heavy handed symbolism, the play within a play. All corny elements we've seen too much of but fresh and compelling in this picture, even after 25 years. In fact, I was reminded again and again of my childhood and how I had first encountered many ideas. What did I think of Hamlet when I was forced to read it in the 7th grade? What did I think about life when I was forced to confront it with my developing brain? Have I lived up to my ideals? The best movies change you. This one has certainly given my a new standard for domestic beauty. I'm going to put a little lace on my sideboard today and cut some flowers. My little world.
  • comment
    • Author: Nilarius
    Any serious film buff has to consider the master Ingmar Bergman one of the greatest movie directors who has ever lived. He has made great film after great film, and I think Fanny and Alexander ranks among his top three finest achievements (along with The Seventh Seal and Wild Strawberries). It differs interestingly from every other movie of his I've seen in its taking in large part a child's point of view. This wasn't only rare for Bergman but it's rare to see a movie made by anyone that shows children, in their viewing of the adult world around them, in such a realistic and interesting way, involving both trauma and joy in these young lives. Yet the children (Alexander being more prominent than Fanny of the titles characters) don't get in the way of showing the great dynamics and complexities of the adult world as well. And these two worlds—those of children and adults—interact in pleasant and somewhat grim ways.

    From the start with Alexander alone in his grandmother's apartment, through an extravagant Christmas party, to the richness of the theater, to the much darker residence of the next chapter of this family's life, the movie is simply an exquisite piece of artistic beauty of early 20th Century Sweden. On a visual level Bergman has always been a master, but here he showed a more lively and ambitious side than he had before. The performances are all terrific, and I'm particularly fond of Bertil Guv as Alexander, Gun Wallgren as his reserved grandmother, and Jarl Kulle as his boisterous uncle.

    The movie, in spite of some quite dark elements, is quite a bit more upbeat than typical Bergman film. Those that may have admired his earlier works but felt them a little overbearing and depressing will likely welcome this ride with the great peaks and valleys of this family. Whether Alexander really has some power to see these images or if it's only a child's vivid imagination leaves room for exploration.

    My rating here is based primarily on the over five hour version. The two separate versions of the movie are both great experiences, with slightly different moods and emphasis, though I prefer the longer television one and that's the one I will look forward to seeing more times in the future. I understand they wanted to get a reasonable length for the theaters, but for me the shortened version lacks a lot of the richness of the other, removing great scenes especially from the back half of the film. Though either way you view it it's very emotionally involving as a work of art. It's a must see.
  • comment
    • Author: Nalmezar
    Stately and magnificent. Every frame exudes aplomb: but it's like every moment, carefully planned beyond the tiniest minutiae, just happened, naturally, without any rehearsal.

    In the narrative there are all sorts of things happening: there's the theatre and the life of the Ekdahl family that loosely starts to resemble the theatre they're involved in — at first they play Shakespeare, but when Emily and her children move away, that life begins to rot as well. There's the idea of Shakespeare transposed to the domestic life of the little children, Alexander being the one who sees ghosts. Then there's the magician, Isak Jacobi, who obviously practices Kabbalah. It's his magic that frees the children, that is, Bergman's magic. The scenes in Jacobi's house are appropriate in how they reveal to us — if we hadn't guessed it already — the inner workings of this world. Some may see it is superfluously esoteric, but I see it only necessary considering Bergman's fascination with such themes, especially in "Det Sjunde Inseglet" (1957). And then there's the vanity of it all, strikingly on display in the scene where the two Ekdahl brothers visit the bishop's house to make their case.

    This film is also one of the most beautiful examples on how to use color cinematically, and I can't help but feel that somehow Kieslowski's "Trois couleurs" (1993–94), despite being more painterly and approaching Tarkovsky in its immediate abstractness, treads the same paths.

    This is a masterwork, so nuanced, so articulate.
  • comment
    • Author: dermeco
    This is an utterly captivating film. Those who prefer Bergman more for the light & easy 'Smiles of a Summer Night' instead of the depressing reality of 'Cries & Whispers' will adore this one.

    Fanny & Alexander Ekdahl are 2 young children of a sprawling well-to-do Swedish family. The late grandpapa ran a theatre company & grandmama was the leading lady. Their sons have moved out of the 'craft', except one. He is Fanny & Alexander's father & the matriarch grandmama's favourite. Alexander has inherited a love for moving pictures from him (he loves watching moving pictures thru a magic lantern in the nursery) & armed with a hyperactive imagination, he goes on to become Ingmar Bergman the film director.

    Alexander's young days, as portrayed by the director, gives a good indication of 2 of his future obsessions - religion & woman. He is deeply attached to his mother who gets widowed early on in the movie. His Father dies while rehearsing as Hamlet's dead father for their forthcoming production. After that his sister Fanny & he move to a grim, forbidding & frugal quarter by the ocean to live with her & their new step father, who is a Bishop, at a grim, forbidding & frugal quarter by the ocean. Like the place, the Bishop is a cruel, stiff, heartless man. He wants the children to follow his strict regime & when they resist, tension builds up moving the narrative to its horrific climax. A scene with the Bishop terrorising the young Alexander to confess a guilt, under the guise of freeing himself from hell & damnation, is chilling. With the Bishop's spinster sister & harridan mother sitting on either side of him, one of them knitting away, the place could easily have been at Mme Defarge's next to the guillotine in France or Torqemada's court in Spain. I cannot remember a more frightening scene than that of using religion to serve petty personal gains.

    The whole movie is filled up with such brilliant, stirring, epochal moments. Never do you look at your watch to check how much of the 3 hour long movie is still left. The scenes float, dance & shine. Being an adaptation from a TV miniseries (& that to about a 3 generation family), the film is somewhat episodic & some interesting characters like Uncle Carl & his German wife disappear after an early flourish. But each cameo holds up beautifully & seen through the eyes of a fantasy-filled boy, it is a wholesome entertainment. Some of Bergman's old ensemble - Harriet Anderson, Gunnar Bjornstrand, Erland Josephson appear in the movie, as does Lena Olin in a small role as the maid Rosa. Also brilliant, as always, is Sven Nykvist's photography.

    The best thing about 'F & A' is that it doesn't matter whether you have heard of Bergman, or seen any of his earlier movies. You will just love this one if you have ever been a kid or lived in a large family. So that covers about everyone.
  • Cast overview, first billed only:
    Kristina Adolphson Kristina Adolphson - Siri - Ekdahlska huset
    Börje Ahlstedt Börje Ahlstedt - Carl Ekdahl - Ekdahlska huset
    Pernilla Allwin Pernilla Allwin - Fanny Ekdahl - Ekdahlska huset
    Kristian Almgren Kristian Almgren - Putte Ekdahl - Ekdahlska huset
    Carl Billquist Carl Billquist - Police Superintendent Jespersson - Ekdahlska huset
    Axel Düberg Axel Düberg - Witness to Bishop's Death - Ekdahlska huset
    Allan Edwall Allan Edwall - Oscar Ekdahl - Ekdahlska huset
    Siv Ericks Siv Ericks - Alida - Ekdahlska huset
    Ewa Fröling Ewa Fröling - Emilie Ekdahl - Ekdahlska huset
    Patricia Gélin Patricia Gélin - Statue - Ekdahlska huset (as Patricia Gelin)
    Majlis Granlund Majlis Granlund - Miss Vega - Ekdahlska huset
    Maria Granlund Maria Granlund - Petra Ekdahl - Ekdahlska huset
    Bertil Guve Bertil Guve - Alexander Ekdahl - Ekdahlska huset
    Eva von Hanno Eva von Hanno - Berta - Ekdahlska huset
    Sonya Hedenbratt Sonya Hedenbratt - Aunt Emma - Ekdahlska huset
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