One of the many things a benchmark film festival like the
New York
Film Festival can do is anoint a new documentary
with the stamp of importance just by inclusion in the fest. Such is
the case of
Liv and
Ingmar – a film that is touching, expressive on
its own terms but resonates even more so when it spotlights the
lives of two major figures in the history of cinema. The
relationship between the late
Swedish
director
Ingmar
Bergman and his muse and protégé (and lover)
Liv Ullmann
is poetically illuminated here.
In the history of filmmaking, they were one of the great couples.
Ullmann and Bergman met in 1965 while filming one his great dramas,
Persona. Both were married at the time with more
than a 20-plus-year difference in age between them – Liv was 25 and
Ingmar 47 – but that didn’t matter.
They lived together for five years, had a child together and
collaborated on 12 films. Now, 46 years later, though Ingmar is
gone, their love never died. A film,
Liv and Ingmar, was born as an a homage to that shared
experience.
An affectionate but truthful account of these intertwined lives, it
reveals the full spectrum of their shared emotions as they survived
through extraordinary times. In turn, they both left behind
enduring creations as proof of their passionate relationship on and
off-screen.
Told entirely from Ullmann’s viewpoint through interviews and
visually reflective moments, it was shot at the house Ingmar built
for Liv on the spot where he had declared his love for her at
Fårø,
Sweden.
This extraordinary biopic is constructed as a collage of images and
sounds from the many Ullmann/Bergman films, behind-the-scenes
footage, still photographs, passages from Liv’s book
Changing
and Ingmar’s personal letters to his love.
Ultimately a candid look, it not only documents two great artists as
human beings, friends and soul mates, the 83 minutes film also
encapsulates a time and an aesthetic.
Liv and Ingmar was
written and directed by
Dheerai
Alkolkar, with
Hallvard
Bræin as cinematographer.
First shown on
Monday,
October 1,
2012,
at the
Walter Reade
Theater (165
W. 65th Street), Ullmann was in attendance for
introduction and Q&A.
The following exclusive interview was conducted a few days after the
first screening at a fine midtown Manhattan hotel.
What was it about Ingmar Bergman that captivated people so much?
It was his recognition of who people are and what they are feeling.
Sometimes it may look violent or harsh and tough, but it’s because
he’s describing what’s happening within you. He had a way of
identifying with people. If you liked his movies it was because you
were recognized and seen somehow. That’s what happened to us in
Montreal when there was a Q&A after they saw this
[film]. People didn’t come up with questions and answers, they just
stood up and started talking about themselves.
Would you have been a very different person had you not experienced
Ingmar and had the film reflect you as well?
Absolutely. That’s why we worked so well together, Ingmar and I. We
may have seemed very different in age and experience and whatever,
but we were very, very much alike. We were just who we are. We had
the same need to be seen and listened to, both of us. That was said
in the movie too – we came out from loneliness and felt less lonely
because we knew we were understood by each other.
You had as much of an effect on him as he did on you.
Exactly. Obviously it would show more in me because I was so much
younger and he was the director and seemed to be the master. But in
terms of our long relationship until he died, I think I gave as much
as I took. And all the people he worked closely with. Without us,
his movies would have looked very different.
He depended on a consistent group of people, it was like a community
for him.
For him that community was important because he was a child, he
loved the games we played when there were intermissions between
scenes. We didn’t sit and talk about the scenes between takes, we
did practical jokes, gossiped and all of these things. He just loved
it. When I directed the movie
Faithless, he was
absolutely forbidden from coming on the set. When he was to be there
on the last day, it would be a surprise for the other people. So
when lunch came he was to come and be a surprise when they came back
from lunch. I tell you, he was like a little boy. It was in the
hotel room and in the bed... and she’s in the bed and he said, “Put
this thing over me and I’ll be in the bed when the rehearsal
starts.”
He goes into the bed and people are coming back from lunch and we
put the blanket over him. This blanket was shivering because he was
under there laughing and laughing. He was so excited and thought it
was so fun and I will never forget this bed going up and down
because he was so happy. Then
Lena Endre
comes in and of course saw these two and she opens it up. He loved
it. That was Ingmar and that was the Ingmar that nobody knows that
didn’t work with him. He didn’t have to play the master because he
was the master and we knew it, but we also knew he was like an old
boy.
It’s like when a Zen master gives a Kōan, it’s often quite funny as
it is meaningful.
But he didn’t know it. I remember it was so early in our
relationship. We were going to travel for the first time. He had
never travelled before because he’s scared too and insecure. We were
going from
Oslo
to
Denmark to
Italy.
It was his first long trip out of Sweden. We were stopped in Denmark
and he wanted to wash his hands. In Denmark you have to take the
lift down and then you go there and come up again. For most people
this is very ordinary and everyone can do it, but not this man with
his leather jacket and his caps and whatever. He goes down with the
lift and after a while he comes back up with the lift and comes out.
It’s like the first time momma lets you go. I cannot explain it, but
this was Ingmar. Once you realized this was Ingmar, he can be
controlling and do all that because it’s the same boy and you get
tenderness for it.
He gave you a degree of freedom. His films might be dark like
Scenes from a Marriage
or
Seventh Seal
they were existential – neither bad nor good. They weren’t
structured like Hollywood films.
Exactly. That’s why it had such a stark [effect] on people. Once you
recognize this, once you knew this isn’t a man making difficult
movies doing this, but this is so easy to understand because his
movies are so easy to understand. Like you have in the movie where
they’re eating breakfast together and there’s nothing to talk about
that is so big at the moment. I could find a lot of people that
haven’t done that scene at their own breakfast table. When people
realized that they loved him, but if they thought they had to be
intellectual they wont get it.
There was a lot of silence and glances in his films. How was it
different from working with him theatrically from cinematically?
Well he’s an incredible theatre director and he directs in somehow a
very different way. In films during the intermissions he would play,
but in the theatre between 11 and 3 he makes it so important and
tells stories around what you are doing. You feel like you are
treading in a really holy place. We did
Pirandello
and he knows so much about Pirandello and telling
stories. He wouldn’t say “you feel like this” or “you laugh like
this.” He’d make you feel so gifted because you’d think, "Right now
I’m doing Pirandello and I know this about Pirandello."
He would give wonderful blocking. He’d say "you go from here to that
chair and I hope that feels comfortable for you." But he would
never, never say what you are feeling, why you go to the chair.
Because he’s so good at this, something happens. “Why can’t I just
stay here?” “No, there is a reason. You find out the reason for
going to that chair.” That’s why he was such a genius. It was
thrilling. I can remember this from film too. You go from that chair
to that table. Then you end up sitting there. Why? Suddenly by doing
that, something is unloosened within you and it is exciting. You
show him that you saw something there. If it’s good, he will praise
you in a way like you’ve found
America.
You’re at ease with having your life with him on the screen?
It’s my life, but as an actress, that is what I do. I show the life
of a woman. It’s not Liv, but it goes through Liv. I mean I’m not
playing Liv, but whatever I’m feeling that this person is feeling,
it goes through my knowledge and experience. It goes through me.
It’s not me crying, but I allow that person to cry with my tears.
I’m always two people. So many people think because the way I act
that I go off to some actors studio, but never. I’m really there. I
take such joy when my hand is shivering when it should be shivering
and I let it shiver more. It’s fantastic. It’s such fun to be an
actor. Actors say, “oh it’s so strenuous and takes so much.” They’re
bullshitting. It’s an incredible thing because we get out so many
emotions that other people don’t get the chance to do. We shouldn’t
be neurotic at all because we do a daily study of living our
emotions.
When did you decide you wanted to direct?
It just came to me. Everything came to me. I had written a script on
order for a
Danish
production [studio] based on a book. But it became much more my
story than the book’s story and the producers really love it. They
said, “You should direct.” Me? No. “Think about it. We’d really like
you to direct that movie.” I couldn’t believe it. They wanted me to
direct? That was in Denmark. I was going home and they said let us
know in a week. You know, I would have said yes at once, but I had
to pretend I was so busy. I called Ingmar. I still remember it, from
the airport in
Copenhagen.
I said “Ingmar, they want me to direct. Do you think I can direct?”
And he said “Oh of course Liv, you can direct.” That was all I
needed because I knew he knew me. If he thought so he would have
said, “you’re too scared,” but he said, “You can direct.” And he was
right. I can direct, because I am an actor and I understand. The
best thing I know is what not to do. Maybe I don’t always know what
to do, but I absolutely know what not to do. The bad directors, they
don’t know that. They do not know what not to do. That’s why they
are so bad.
When
you and director Dheerai Alkolkar worked on this film, did you stay
out of the editing process?
I
had no power at all. Neither did I try. It was an understanding. I
never saw the movie. I didn’t know what the movie would be. I said
to the producer I’m doing two days of interviews and you can use my
reading from Changing.
I didn’t know what this was going to be. We even made a contract. I
don’t want money, no responsibility. If I don’t like it, I’m not
going to be quiet about that. He didn’t know about that, but I’m
here because I feel he gave me a gift. I never even thought that
Ingmar and my relationship could be shown by his movie.
When I saw that I said how is that possible? But then I remembered
he made movies about all of us, so it looks like ours. We did not
have a violent physical thing, but I know when Ingmar hurts or if I
hurt, it’s worse than when somebody knocks you out. What I’ve heard
is that nobody has made a documentary where they show the film
master, what his life has been with someone through his films.
Yes, I am proud of this movie. Not because I made it in any way. I
did the interviews. He really did this and he gave me a gift. I had
forgotten these letters which they have. And the door, I love that
door. Now I know because the sun is bleaching it, but it’s going to
be there forever and that means so much for me. There are things in
the movie either I didn’t know or I had forgotten. And it is there.
Maybe it means nothing for anyone, but it means so much for me. It
is incredible. Ingmar would have smiled. A young man from India is
seeing something that maybe a lot of people never would have seen.
Do you want to make a documentary now?
I’ve wanted to do one before. Maybe travel somewhere in the Third
World with some women. Show some incredible strong women. But I
don’t have the time. I don’t have the time because I want to be a
story-teller. You can’t go into the Third World and be a storyteller
because that story is already there and you show it. I want to be a
story-teller, so I’m not going to make a documentary. I vote for
Oscars, but if I had the possibility, I would vote for the
documentaries. In this world we’re living in now, they are the most
interesting to see because there are some really incredible film
makers that are starting to become great documentary film makers.
You really rethink the role of an actress. Do you help push that
process forward and take on that responsibility? You were thrown in
at 25.
I
know. I didn’t really understand and I’m easy to make a doormat. But
I’ve been a good doormat, because if a doormat starts talking
professionally, and I have been talking professionally, I can make
it easier for other women. A lot of us are very insecure because we
feel the men are dominant and they should be so. But if I can do it,
anyone can do it. That is really so because I am not strong in that
way, but I became [strong] because it is wonderful and has given me
so much strength. For this I also have to thank Ingmar because he
gave me that possibility. He used to say about me “you are made in
one piece.” He was so wrong and he realized that too. I am not made
in one piece, but I can talk sometimes like I am made in one piece
and I am grateful for that. That’s why I am really grateful for this
movie. I see that in this movie.
You also stayed part of the community.
We are the best of friends.
Bibi
Anderson is my best friend in the world. Some of
them are gone. Some of them are dead. But my friends, they are from
when I was 20. I love it and I hope we stay friends. You also have
to have young friends, creative young friends, so you can still feel
pride and curiosity in what’s going to happen.
What do you have coming up now in your mid-70s?
I
am going to
Norway
to direct
Uncle Vanya
for the
National
Theatre. I’ve been ordered to do an adaptation of
August
Strindberg’s
Miss Julie. We should start in the beginning of
April to do that movie. I had an offer which I said yes to do here
on
Broadway: A
Doll’s House to direct. It all just came to me.
Within one year if everything happens as it should, I will do
[Anton]
Chekov, Strindberg,
and
A Doll’s
House
[by Henrik
Ibsen]. God has been nice to me. Maybe I’ve been
nice? Who knows what happens, but that is the plan.
Do you have any actors you want?
The National Theatre is all cast with
Norwegians.
Miss Julie is
cast, but it is a secret right now. A Doll’s House is open
and I will find the best people.
Did you make a list of actors you want?
Yeah, because a lot of actors can be great in a film but it’s
something really different to be a stage actor. It has to be someone
with knowledge, a voice and schooling to be on the stage. That’s
difficult, to be on the stage. It’s not just a matter of turning on
your feelings, it’s so much more than that. You've got to do with
[the knowledge of working through] a beginning, a middle, and an
end. Look at
Cate
Blanchett. She’s almost the best theatre actress I
know. It is so much more than just turning on a feeling. I’ve worked
with her and it was one of the best adventures I’ve had in my life –
because she knows.
Is there anyone you still want to work with or hope you can?
No, that would mean me going back to acting. There are some
directors that sometimes I dream I will have one more acting part
[with], but I’ve been given so much, so that won’t happen. When you
hear about this
Michael
Haneke [the director's film Amour] sometimes
I wish to do it one more time to see if still can. I can do small
roles in a film, but maybe that’s not what I’m dreaming of. I maybe
just once more want to be creative as an actor.
Older actresses are getting parts these days.
Because we have these incredible actresses. People are seeing that
you are alive after you’re 40.
