In the pantheon of great cinematic artists, there are few that can hold the prestige and pedigree as Ingmar Bergman, whose reputation as one of the finest filmmakers to ever work in the medium is undoubtedly and thoroughly earned – over the course of a career that lasted half a century, he blazed a trail for world cinema that saw some of the greatest works of fiction produced and distributed to diverse audiences that still continue to be captivated by the director’s extraordinary work, and his apparently seamless way of constructing meaningful and fascinating films that are consistently brilliant and entirely resonant based on the different themes that underpin them. One of the director’s most audacious experiments was Scenes from a Marriage (Swedish: Scener ur ett äktenskap), a beautiful, poetic drama about the disintegration of a marriage between two ordinary people, set over the span of a few years as they interact and come to terms with the fact that they just do not love each other anymore, all the while second-guessing what it is they actually want, from each other and from themselves. Works of insightful, meaningful art like Scenes from a Marriage are difficult to come by very often, and only someone with the audacity and confidence of Bergman could make a film about marriage that takes the form of a quiet, pensive character-driven drama, but has the thematic scope of a sprawling epic, with the director making exceptional use of his understanding of the human condition in constructing one of the most harrowing but fascinating portrayals of marriage, and a film that proves that Bergman truly was someone who could make even the most banal of subjects into complex, compelling masterpieces, getting beneath the surface of our collective existential quandaries and delivering an astoundingly brilliant tapestry of life and its various insurmountable challenges.

Marianne (Liv Ullman) and Johan (Erland Josephson) have been married for a decade. At the outset of Scenes from a Marriage, they have just renewed their wedding vows, and the future seems bright for this loving couple, who have all the elements of a perfect family – two homes, steady jobs and a pair of wonderful daughters upon who they frequently dote. However, after a tense evening with some friends who are experiencing troubles in their relationship, Marianne and Johan discover that their own marriage is far from perfect, and eventually come to terms with the fact that they might just not love each other that much anymore, and that perhaps the best thing would be for them to part ways. Johan, a well-respected academic, has an affair with a much younger woman, which reignites his passion and allows him to start feeling the same lust for life that he had previously lost through the routine of marriage. Marianne is no stranger to marital strife, as she works as a lawyer specializing in divorce. The problem is, despite being an expert on the subject, absolutely nothing could prepare her for the same thing happening to her. Over the course of a decade, the couple drifts apart, trying to remain civil and conduct themselves with dignity and respect, but still find themselves feeling very strongly about the other, oscillating between apoplectic fury and fiery passion. Whatever the cause of the decay of their marriage, it was not for a lack of intense emotional attachment, and whether manifesting as anger or love, joy or regret, there is no shortage of vigour in this relationship, even if we are watching it deteriorate.

There is an immense amount of irony embedded within Scenes from a Marriage. The two main characters are experts in their fields and are clearly very intelligent individuals, yet they seem so incompetent when they have to apply the skills they have made a living from into their everyday life. Johan is a beloved university professor whose academic pursuits have made him a coveted figure across Europe – yet, he soon demonstrates himself to be hopefully uneducated in matters of the heart, with his assured and confident intelligence being lost when his heart takes over, and he starts to question everything he has previously held as sacrosanct. Marianne, on the other hand, is someone who deals with divorce on a daily basis, yet she never expected it to ever happen to her – she even remarks towards the end of the film that she gives advice to people seeking out a divorce, but fails to follow the same principles when it involves her, openly defying the instructions she insists her clients abide by. Bergman was notoriously good at creating characters that were distant from being archetypes – his work was characterized by strong-willed individuals in the central roles, who were authentic and had complexities beyond that of traditional film characters. Scenes from a Marriage may just be his magnum opus in this regard – focused solely on two characters, with occasional appearances from other peripheral actors who make an impact, but don’t distract from the central dynamic, Bergman explores Marianne and Johan, not merely as cinematic constructions, but as realistic characters, individuals that are experiencing something extremely common and resonant to many people. A significant portion of Scenes from a Marriage is inspired by Bergman’s own memories and experiences (as are many of his films), and in looking at the dysfunction of a married couple, he is able to draw upon his own quandaries and concerns, infusing this film, which is otherwise quite standard, with an enormous amount of heart and an unquestionable intelligence that elevates it beyond simply being a predictable marital saga.

Bergman really does have a way with actors, and in Scenes from a Marriage, he employs two of his regular collaborators, both of which show themselves to be more than adept at handling Bergman’s often intense dialogue and the emotional intensity embedded within these characters. Erland Josephson is tremendous as Johan, a man who is undergoing something along the lines of a midlife crisis – at the outset he seems satisfied with his life, but as time goes on, it becomes clear that he is unhappy, and he seeks salvation in the arms of Paula, a character we never see but who holds a sinister omnipotence over the film. Josephson’s performance is sharply contrasted with that of Liv Ullman, who gives career-best work in this film, taking on a character that is amongst the most fascinating in the director’s oeuvre. Marianne is a woman teetering dangerously close on a breakdown – she is an intelligent, level-headed individual, but someone whose mental state is proven to be unable to handle the trauma of divorce, which makes her profession all the more ironic. Ullman oscillates between gentle and fiery, demonstrating an intensity that commands the screen, captivating the viewer where we cannot help but look at these events through her eyes. Scenes from a Marriage is a film that is mostly a two-hander, with both characters being given equal importance and without any semblance of bias in terms of Bergman’s construction of them. However, I do suspect that viewers will align themselves more with one of the characters more than the other, and while I recognize the brilliance of Josephson, it is Ullman, whose heartbreaking performance lingers on, and her change from fragile to assured, through a quiet resilience, is something truly to behold.

The chemistry between Ullman and Josephson is amongst the best ever conveyed on film, which is also helped significantly by the way in which Bergman writes these characters. This is not a film that takes a side, but rather an objective portrayal of a disintegrating marriage. Neither Marianne nor Johan could be classified as heroes or villains – they are simply ordinary people, with merits and shortcomings, who find their love eroding, with passion fleeing and hostility assimilating into their relationship. It is a daring approach and one that hardly any work that has looked at this subject has dared to portray with such honesty, as well as relentless unpredictability, with the journey of these two individuals defying expectations. Scenes from a Marriage is presented with a certain voyeuristic intensity – we are given access into the lives of a married couple in a way that feels like an invasion. It creates the sensation that we ought to look away, with the soul-baring honesty of their interactions extending far beyond the realms of fiction. Bergman does exceptionally well in dismantling the boundaries between the art and the audience, and throughout the film, we feel as if we are passively present in the intimate moments we are witnessing. There is a strange psychological choreography in Scenes from a Marriage, and not only in the terrific ability of the two leads to play against each other with earnest conviction and incredible ease – the use of close-up shots throughout the film lends it a stark intimacy because there is absolutely nowhere for these characters to hide. Sven Nykvist’s camera captures every expression and subtle movement, and the nature of the film prevents any distraction from the earnest truth – we see everything, because it is presented to us in unfiltered, raw honesty that can sometimes be mentally harrowing, but ultimately a rewarding experience, because the emotional impact of the film is almost transcendent, and elevates the viewing experience beyond mere fiction.

Scenes from a Marriage is almost theatrical in its execution, through its character-driven story, emphasis on two central performances and the limited locations in which this decades-long drama unfolds (it only makes sense that it has been adapted to the stage in subsequent years), and its six-act structure allows for some fascinating commentary on not only marriage but on the march of time, and how much it can change the mindset of an individual. This all sets the stage for Bergman’s exploration of modern romance, which has been something so many works have attempted to portray, but in ways that are often stilted or one-dimensional, without the depth that the director brings to this film. Scenes from a Marriage is very often an exuberant exploration of resonant themes, navigating the notoriously fickle line between genres and convention, with Bergman constructing a drama that is truly heartwrenching and can sometimes be overwhelming to viewers not prepared for the emotional pandemonium pulsating through the film. Yet, Bergman does not neglect to infuse some genuine levity into the film as well, in an effort to balance out the intensity of the story, and to show that even something as daunting and difficult as divorce has its moments of relieving catharsis. Bergman’s films were notoriously intense (has there ever been a filmmaker who has defined psychological tension as much as he has?), and this is definitely applicable to Scenes from a Marriage – but it is also a film that remains more grounded and simple than his more lavish work, both visually and in the story it tells, and the effectiveness of what he does here doesn’t come from his artistic inclinations, but rather his steadfast command of his characters, and how he follows them throughout the years, commenting on their shifting mental and emotional states, and the fragile nature of their relationship.

Thus, Scenes from a Marriage really should be classified as one of Bergman’s most earnest social realist pieces, a film that takes an uncompromising look at marriage in a way that is not melodramatic, but rather straightforward and honest. The authenticity of this film is so palpable, with the filmmaker providing the viewer with, as the title suggests, a variety of chronological scenes from a marriage. This is merely an episodic journey through a decade in the life of two individuals who were, at the outset married and resentful of each other, and by the conclusion, divorced and hopelessly in love with the person they have spent the better part of a decade engaged in vitriolic disdain. Bergman’s use of irony and contradiction is one of the most underpraised merits of Scenes from a Marriage, as it comments on human nature, and the resonant fact that very few of us actually always know precisely what we want out of life. Through a variety of moments into the central relationship, which ebbs and flows with a certain refreshing unpredictability, we see the human condition portrayed in an entirely new way. We are not privy to the entire marriage and its eventual decline and inevitable reconciliation, but rather a series of fragmented snapshots into the lives of these characters. This is a fascinating and audacious way of executing such a story – some of the most meaningful commentary in Scenes from a Marriage don’t come in what is explicitly represented on screen, but rather what happens in between these scenes, through the passage of time and in the elided moments that exist only as implications and allusions, manifesting through a knowing look or a gentle gesture. It all shows that divorce, while unfortunately a very common occurrence, is far from being nearly as neat and simple as one would expect it to be – even putting aside the legal difficulties that come with it, Scenes from a Marriage looks at the emotional and psychological processes that come along with it, which is often the most difficult part of such an experience, and the wound that tends to be the toughest to heal.

Is there any doubt that Bergman was a true master of his craft? There aren’t many filmmakers who can lay testament to having changed cinema almost entirely on their own, and even though Scenes from a Marriage may often not be mentioned in the same breath as some of the director’s more famous achievements, it is undoubtedly one of his greatest works, an intimate character study that centres on two individuals who undergo a heartbreaking divorce, and the various machinations of their relationship as they attempt to justify their separation, while all the while trying to reconcile their underlying devotion to each other, even in the midst of a divorce. Bergman’s approach to this story is direct and uncompromising – he never avoids the discomfort, and the awkwardness of these interactions can sometimes be extremely overwhelming, but effectively so, because had he approached this subject through a more polished, efficient method, this film would’ve lost the jagged edges that harbour some of its most profoundly moving commentary on the nature of love, in all its forms. It is an elegant and deeply convincing drama about the human condition, one that sees Bergman at his most nuanced, as well as demonstrating his intricate understanding of life’s idiosyncrasies. Ultimately, Scenes from a Marriage is a film about how we have a tendency to crave change, even when it is clear there is no real need for it. Beautiful, poetic and heartbreaking, Scenes from a Marriage is a true masterwork, and one of the most exquisite portrayals of everyday life, hailing from one of the greatest stalwarts of cinematic art, who dared to present us with a harrowing vision of life as it is, and daring us to look away when he knows full well that we can’t resist it.