Bergman Island, a new film by French-style writer Mia Hansen-Løve (Tout est pardonné, Un amour de jeunesse, Eden), screened at the Cannes Film Festival and was soon offered a theatrical release. . Silently in the midst of heavyweight selection, the film led by Mia Wasikowska, Tim Roth and Vicky Krieps emerged as the little summer recreation a festival like Cannes could make.
THERE’S A MOVIE, AND THERE’S A BERGMAN
While post-pandemic cinema wants (and will) regain its place as a world-leading show, Mia Hansen-Love signed with Bergman Island the award for seventh art and creation. The film’s starting point is the meeting, on the island of Fårö, between several filmmakers and the memory of the great Ingmar Bergman, the director of masterpieces such as The Seventh Seal, Persona or Fanny and Alexander.
After ending his life on this majestic island, Ingmar Bergman instantly animates the protagonist’s surroundings, both mesmerized by the figure of the legendary director, and swiftly writing their respective scripts in this cinema monster lair. However, this journey will shake their existence, as Mia Hansen-Løve subtly interprets from the film’s opening, when the frenzy of flights to Sweden disturbs Chris (Vicky Krieps), curled up in Tony’s arms (Tim Roth). .
be linked at the end. This alternate narrative applies when, in the middle of the film, Chris tells Tony about the outline of the script. And with this second story, which features bad weather in love with Amy (Mia Wasikowska) and Joseph (Anders Danielsen Lie), the director manages to express at least his writing and directing talent.
But while the camera’s mission is to accompany the character’s movements in the first part of the film, it hurts when Mia Hansen-Lve tries to take some risks when she finds herself drawn to Amy and Joseph’s romance. As if real fiction had finally allowed filmmakers to express their knowledge, another part of the story takes precedence from an aesthetic point of view on Chris and Tony’s creative issues, which in some ways are less clear.
Happiness shines in our eyes when the director gives all the space to Mia Wasikowska, in great shape in the role of a young woman driven by her will. We will especially remember the dance sequence to the song by the Abba group (what happiness) and the lunar sauna sequence, turned into a beautiful hymn for joy and freedom .
AN I-CINEMA TO RULE THEM ALL
Apart from the secondary character Jonas (Joel Spira) who delivers one of the tastiest “Fuck Bergmans,” the director and screenwriter presents a social sphere that is nurtured with certain privileges, with regards to aesthetic taste and social code.
However, the film highlights the favored (even highly likable) inter-self where the name of the Swedish director is unknown, and where the cultural capital demanded requires minimal knowledge of this heritage cinema.
A passion that may seem like a closed cinema within its own social environment. And it is in this same logic that the filmmaker’s narrative is written, with a tendency toward more or less assumed self-fiction. Because after romanticizing her DJ sibling past in Eden, and her mom and dad’s breakup in L’Avenir, Mia Hansen-Løve seems to be pulling back on her love life in the city with another French filmmaker: Olivier Assayas.
The comparison is made even more stark when we learn that Tony is writing a film about ghosts, which is sure to remind us of Personal Shopper, one of Olivier Assayas’ last films. And in this portrait Chris surreptitiously hides the figure of Mia Hansen-Løve, who certainly doesn’t dive straight into autobiography, but never opens her lens outside her own existential plane.