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While waiting for the night rehearsal of the ballet Swan Lake, the lonely twenty-eight year-old ballerina Marie (Maj-Britt Nilsson) receives a diary through the mail. She travels by ferry to an island nearby Stockholm, where she recalls her first love Henrik (Birger Malmsten). Thirteen years ago, while traveling to spend her summer vacation with her aunt Elisabeth (Renée Björling) and her uncle Erland (Georg Funkquist), Marie meets Henrik in the ferry and sooner they fall in love for each other. They spend summer vacation together when a tragedy separates them and Marie builds a wall affecting her sentimental life.

"Sommarlek" is a simple little film of the great director Ingmar Bergman in the beginning of his successful career. The plot discloses through flashbacks a tragic and timeless love story affecting the life of the lead character that builds a wall to protect her sentiments and loses her innocence with her corrupt uncle. The cinematography, landscapes, sceneries and camera work are awesome, using magnificent locations and unusual angles to shot the movie. Maj-Britt Nilsson and Birger Malmsten have great performances in this beautiful and melancholic film. My vote is eight.

Title (Brazil): "Juventude" ("Youth")

Marie has re-opened a door, to a box she cast into before, a broken love heart, that's been shattered, torn apart, then fractured upon a treacherous, cruel shore.

Henrik had found his true love, without persuasion or an encouraging shove, a joyous summer together, feeling light as a feather, until drawn by the clouds up above.

Waffle ye might about the aesthetic of great cinema but it's the story that holds the roof on, ably assisted in equal part by great performances and incredibly genuine and believable dialogue - the aesthetic is the cherry on the cake, and this is an outstanding piece of storytelling.

Love story perfectly told. Life story perfectly told.

First of all I was angry watching the to lovers being enormously happy. It was so unreal and idealistic that I said to myself - you can see this only in movies. The two lovers were talking the strange language of love that makes them fool around and boost. That makes them feel the need to show off and to be something more. That naive language of their naive youth.

Suddenly this romantic cloud was blown away and this movie become more realistic, lifely realistic. Yeah, it was trivial but told in Bergman's way it was also very beautiful and true. It showed the change that we all live trough the language that is familiar but we do not speak any more, the things in life and the life caught in the walls of self preservation, senselessness and absurd where the only one escape is the ultimate love - the only reality.

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On the face of it, "Summer Interlude" is a fairly straightforward narrative; a ballerina (Marie, masterfully played by Maj-Britt Nilsson) in her late 20s (so in the ballet world, nearing the end of her career) seems detached from the world. She lives with a fairly stolid and boring tabloid journalist (David, in a wonderfully understated performance from Alf Kjellin), but doesn't seem terribly invested in their relationship. On the day of the dress rehearsal before opening night, a package arrives containing a journal - she opens the journal, and suddenly she feels emotion again - as if part of an interior wall is starting to crack. She takes a ferry out to an island where she spent her childhood summers, and flashes back to a summer romance that occurred there in her teenage years - and thus a complex, beautiful, and tragic story begins.

This is considered by most - including the Swedish master himself - to be Bergman's first mature film as a director, and with good reason. His previous offerings, while showing glimpses of the promises he would deliver on later in his career, were hampered by his limp, flawed male protagonists. This is the first film in which he explores the female as protagonist, a trope which would continue through most of his career, and it's clear that he has a much better grasp on the female psyche than on the male - with one notable exception ("The Seventh Seal"), his male protagonists often come off as variants of the director himself. Marie is at once strong, uninhibited, and vulnerable as a young woman, and Nilsson plays this role sublimely. As a mature ballerina, she has the appearance of strength that comes from a deadening of the emotions, rather inhibited, and invulnerable - a woman behind a wall she was forced or persuaded to build around herself. Nilsson also takes on this role masterfully, showing the versatility and virtuosity of an actress whose career peaked far too early.

The male lead, and Marie's love interest, is Birger Malmsten as Henrik - also wonderfully played as (by this point "yet another") incarnation of young Bergman himself. But unlike the male leads of previous films, Henrik is played with such an earnest innocence and naiveté that we can't help but buy into this wonderful performance. This isn't the director subtly displaying a sense of self-loathing, but rather, baring his soul through his marvelous script and direction. The ancillary roles are all excellent, as can be expected from actors working under Bergman. Stig Olin is particularly fantastic as the master of the ballet company. Kjellin's "regular guy" is believable in both his distance and his frustration, and lascivious "Uncle" Erland (Georg Funkquist) is delightfully seedy and erudite. Gunnar Olsson - the obligatory Bergman priest - is a very minor character, but fits perfectly into the few scenes he appears in. The rest of the supporting cast is fantastic.

As one would expect from a Bergman film - especially an early collaboration with his first significant cinematographer, Gunnar Fischer, and frequent editor Oscar Rosander - the visuals are stunning. I won't get over-technical here, but a wonderful mix of slow-fades, natural summer lighting, and exceptional composition make this a visual gem. Working on-location - a rarity for Bergman at this point in his career - he masterfully captures the feel of a short (6-8 week) Swedish summer, from the cuckoo that officially announces the start of summer to the owl that signals its approaching end. The lighting is masterfully achieved; contrast the scene when Marie first bumps into Henrik on the island to that where she walks down the hospital corridor. Every scene - including the outdoor ones, which are far more difficult - are perfectly focused and use exactly the right perspective.

Thematically, "Summer Interlude" is almost a crystal ball we can stare into to see the marvelous things the director would do in the future. Love, and its reverse. Life, and its reverse. The questioning of god's existence, relevance, and goodness. This is one of the first Bergman films to significantly use the mirror as a thematic element, in two back-to-back scenes, near the end of the film - this theme would be repeated in many future films, from the shattered mirror in "The Magician" to the dual mirrors in "Cries and Whispers", this would be a leitmotif that Bergman would employ time and time again. There is a chess scene in "Summer Interlude" that would directly evoke that of "The Seventh Seal" had the former not been shot 5 years before the latter. The distance between Marie and David tangibly feels like the silence between the sisters in "The Silence".

The overall TL;DR synopsis: This is a beautifully shot, wonderfully acted portrayal of young love that evokes Bergman's recurring themes of love, loss, the distance that necessarily exists between people, the silence of god, self-reflection, and the existentialist notion that we might as well move forward because otherwise, all we do is wait for Godot. The first masterpiece of a director I consider second only to Tarkovsky, and easily in my top 10 of his films - which is saying a lot. A solid 10/10.

This Ingmar Bergman's earlier essay is a dedicative recount of a young ballerina's summer holiday puppy romance with a timid college student which culminated in a tragic accident and the narrative leaps between the reminiscent past and the present (13 years later, when she is preparing her SWAN LAKE premier).

The film is slightly differentiated from Bergman's usual philosophy-heavy, mentally- straining members of his reservoir, a summer vacation in a Scandinavian island, with youth in bathing suits, is a curio to find out. But the die-hard Bergman fans will as always revel in the solemn nuances and formidable expressions from Maj-Britt Nilsson's heroine, whose god-spitting manifesto "I'll hate him till the day I die!"defies any compromise and detour, which could also be Bergman's mouthpiece speaking.

There are many aesthetically haunting shots with utterly perfect structural deployment (which cannot be a surprise since this is the sixth Bergman's film I have watched so far), a witchcraft of radiating the characters' frank and inherent emotion and sixth senses through Black & White lens, the portrait close-ups, the little cartoon on the letter, even the ballet tableaux, all sparkle with resilience of a human soul's elusive fickleness. The wild strawberry, chess playing with the clergyman and the hag with mustache, there are many anecdotes here just for perusing.

Ms. Nilsson captures all the spotlight in the film, although she and Birger Malmsten are quite awkward in pulling off mid-or-late teens in love since wrinkles and creases cannot lie, but it is almost a mission-impossible for any actress since spanning 13 years especially from teenage to adulthood is a great challenge, nevertheless, this blemish can not overthrow the film's majestic study on a psychological case of a lost love soul's selective protection and rejuvenation, although may not be Bergman's best, still a recommendable film from the maestro and furthermore attests his consistency in filmic supremacy.

What starts off seeming so simple eventually, in a leisurely but sure way, becomes tragic and poignant. Bergman built up to this film after a few early works, and while imperfect (I think the two leads have chemistry, but Nilssen is given a greater character arc than Malmsten, who isnt bad but isnt up to her level as far as expressiveness and range), it feels like a complete and fascinatingly light-and-dark combination of poetic realism.

It's at times light and sweet, with a montage of the two young lovers connecting and having fun and fooling around, plus a little animated sequence (!) the two "watch" that is almost the plot laid out, and at other times there's suggestions of incest (kinda, it is her overly adoring and bitter uncle after all, played by Funkquist) and, ultimately, how Marie realized by summer's end if there is a God, she hates him with a passion.

The dynamic and unconventional use of the camera (ie what he does with it when an aawful and life changing noment happens to Henrik is amazing); the brutal power of memory ("I forgot Henrik" is meant to haunt the character, and it comes off well); the discontent and genuine malaise of an artist; the wise contemporary who can see through and bring insight (this happens near the end), it all shows a filmmaker gaining command of his craft in service of his greater ideas and passions.

If it's not one of his best it's only speaks to what would lie ahead (he made this when he was 32). Im also *really* curious to see the American recut version, "Illicit Interlude" which, like Summer with Monika (which would make a natural double feature if there ever was one), got added nude scenes to appeal to the skin-flick audiences.

Bergman's films are always interesting to look at, and this one is no exception. Some of the film's best visuals include a bleak white sky that only a black silhouette of the protagonist can be made out walking against, and a couple of excellent montages: one being the opening shots of slight movements in clouds, in a river and of rubbish on a footpath; the other being a montage of steam, skies and water as a boat sails along. Bergman also pays a lot of attention to sound here too, and in particular there is something rhythmic about the chugging boat sounds, and these sounds can be heard at times throughout the film even when the boat is not visible on screen. Silence, such as at the doctor's office, is also distributed well throughout.

The directing work in this early Bergman film is on par with some of his best direction. His screenplay is however well below par. It is one of his least challenging scripts - a simple tale of love between two young persons with none of the philosophy or analysis about how human beings function that make most of his films so interesting. It is well made, but often nothing more than sentimental fluff. The stop animation work is an awkward inclusion too and the film is full of unimportant events, such as the ups and downs of the ballet, that really have absolutely nothing to do with the story at hand. It is not one of Bergman's best films by far, but still a good sign of things to come from him, and fairly pleasant viewing. It is sort of similar to 'Wild Strawberries', and therefore it is rather amusing to hear the main character ask her lover whether he wants to pick some wild strawberries with her!

Much of this early Ingmar Bergman film is an elaborate flashback of the event indicated in the title. An accomplished ballerina reflects on a love affair of her youth. They meet and soon are lovers (they both admit that up to this point they have never kissed another before but it doesn't take long before they're rolling in the hay) and we get nearly overkill sequences of hackneyed depictions of exhilarating young love : running on the beach, jumping into each other's arms, copious gropings, falling over each other with utter joy, endless kissing and hugging, excited expressions of mutual endearment ; it becomes withering after a while. Despite some light foreshadowing of something else to come, I began to see the movie as an apprentice effort by this great master as he improvises an innocuous love affair as a sheer movie making exercise.

The recollection is cut short by tragedy and the story returns to the present. Everything changes and bleakness replaces happiness. Dark personal imprisonment replaces innocence and freedom. The story moves to conclusion with some interesting new characters and some trenchant dialogue. I'm no expert on Bergman but intuitively I wouldn't be surprised if the second half of this early movie might just be some of his best stuff. This is almost two movies in one. The ending might surprise.

Notes: 1) In the flashback, she has an uncle who fits, categorically, the definition of slime in the sense of preying on young girls. He wants to be her "protector." A conversation seems to indicate that something sordid has passed between them. "I shouldn't have let you touch me," she says. Is this literal or figurative? The relationship between them is not developed. The decadence of the remark is jarring. 2) In a somewhat humorous vein, the young lover says to her, "I love you so much I want to eat you up." She says, "Where would you start?" "I would start with your brains and work down to between your thighs. I have a cannibal friend who told me about this." Yike!

And thirdly, there are some lovely ballet sequences that are beautifully weaved into the narrative, including an instance near the finale which is quite telling (and moving). There is a wonderful scene when he barges in on her as she practices. The camera is stationed on the floor showing close ups from her knees to the floor as she fires away with some elaborate pyrotechnics of exquisite lower limb maneuvers of the art. Through this marvelous camera setting, he is visible across the room sitting in the background reproaching her for thinking more of her career than about him. The camera work there is inspired. This movie should be included in any discussion about ballet in cinema.

Certainly recommended and with an added caveat ; don't give up too early; do but hang awhile, it's worth it.

While waiting for the night rehearsal of the ballet Swan Lake, the lonely twenty-eight year-old ballerina Marie receives a diary through the mail. She travels by ferry to an island nearby Stockholm, where she recalls her first love Henrik.

Bergman later reflected, "For me Summer Interlude is one of my most important films. Even though to an outsider it may seem terribly passé, for me it isn't. This was my first film in which I felt I was functioning independently, with a style of my own, making a film all my own, with a particular appearance of its own, which no one could ape." Indeed, this is a landmark film for Bergman. We see his early use of "summer" as a recurring theme, his stark use of black and white that would define him for a generation... and even the use of "Swan Lake", which may prefigure his love of "Magic Flute" in some way. Bergman brought a visual style to film I have never seen elsewhere and never will. He is the master, and it all begins with "Summer Interlude".

Actually there is nothing wrong with Summer Interlude as such, it's just that I don't think it is quite on the same level as Ingmar Bergman's very best. Bergman's direction is as always superb. The cinematography positively shimmers, and the images of the sunny Swedish countryside are beautiful to look at. The writing is thought-provoking, affecting in its honesty and sweet in how it deals with the romantic elements. The story still has the dramatic intensity and structural complexity that helps to form the best of Bergman's films. The two lead characters are touching and are likable, Marie being world-weary and Henrik being timid. The acting helps to reflect that, especially Maj-Britt Nilsson whose performance is so sensitive that you wonder why she wasn't in more after this and Secrets of Women. Birger Malmsten is not quite in the same league but gives a well-contrasted performance still. All in all, a lovely film if not quite among Bergman's very best movies. 9/10 Bethany Cox

I watched this movie and was transported, both in transports of delight, and mentally transported back to Sweden, where I had a brief but intense love-affair.

The scenes with the two young lovers, meeting and playing on the lake, with the little boat, with the dog, "Squabble", picking berries, were so finely drawn on screen, they could have been transcribed from my memories...

Cinema can be magic, and cinema like this can make one's life more wonder-filled.

"Sommarlek" (literal translation: "summer play" or "summer frolic") is seen by many as the true beginning of director Ingmar Bergman's career. Abandoning his traditional, often unlikeable, male protagonists of his earlier efforts, in this film he casts a female lead to act out a story from his own youth. It was a brilliant maneuver that proved to be a huge, career-defining success as Bergman was now able to explore more sensitivity and sentimentality, not to mention aesthetic beauty, through the female viewpoint. And the actress herself, Maj-Britt Nilsson, does an amazing job of covering the entire spectrum of joy and despair.

The story begins on the stage of a ballet rehearsal, the night before the big show of Swan Lake. Our heroine "Marie" (Maj-Britt Nilsson) is 38 years old which in ballet terms is practically in the grave. Certainly in terms of emotion she is presented as almost a preserved corpse, beautiful but utterly drained of life. An accident shuts down rehearsal and she leaves to go home but takes an unexpected detour on a boat which takes her to an idyllic little island where she spent a summer of her youth 13 years prior.

This is where the magic of Maj-Britt Nilsson's acting shows itself. The youthful "Marie" is so thoroughly playful, happy and childish that I literally had to pause the film to check if it was really the same actress. It is. And immediately the suspense is set: how does such a happy-go-lucky young girl turn out to be the jaded painted relic we saw on the ballet stage?

What follows is a love story that's almost ridiculous in its perfection, but that's the point. As Marie says, it feels like being inside a soap bubble. Bergman and his filming crew made excellent use of the sights of summer (even though the typical Swedish summer is barely 2-3 weeks long) to convey a fantasy in the natural world.

Ultimately the audience knows it must somehow return to the dark stage of the present, and so psychologically this cute love story has the air of a mystery all the way through. This is my favorite part of the film, the way it's implied that the love story will end, and thus there's no need for contrived conflicts and cartoonish peril. Yes, there are shadows of malice but these shadows are subtle. The screech of an owl (announcing the impending end of summer) accompanied by Marie's sudden inexplicable terror, and a shift in cinematography to a darker, more sinister look-this is the kind of subtle, artistic foreshadowing I'm talking about.

In the last part of the movie there are some excellent monologues, all done in the quiet darkness of Marie's dressing room. Certain lines are so poetic you'll want to memorize them, such as "It's like being a painted doll on strings. If you cry, the paint runs..." And to me that's where the film, and Maj-Britt Nilsson, really deliver. The last line (which I won't ruin!) ends on a cryptic note which makes you want to watch the whole film again.

"Sommarlek" is a great film, not just as a historical marker for Bergman's career but as a standalone work of cinema. I would compare it to the Max Ophuls masterpiece which would come 4 years later, "Lola Montès" (1955). Both films give us a lavish epic focusing on a caged woman facing the memory her wild & free past, but in this case the "lavish epic" is wonderfully contained on a tiny island over a few fleeting weeks of summer.

It is a lovely and sweet story which tells a beautiful ballerina mourning her lover's death at her youthful age. She was too sad to get away the great sorrow and opened her mind to a journalist who became into her lately lover. This film not only tells the wonderful memories and the praise of life but also faces the shadow of death. I like their performance and the narrative of intertwining the romantic moment and the tragic event. Ingmar Bergman truly did a great movie at the beginning in 1950s, preceding the following masterpieces in the film history.

It's a beautiful looking film but also it has horror to come. Maj-Britt Nilsson a young ballerina plays her and also 13 years later as she remembers herself as a 15 year old in the summer and the young boy played by Birger Malmsten and his dog. She does the older girl and her younger one so well with a bit of the horrible make-up to be taken off later than helps. She really looks like a little girl at times with her laughing and loving and so lovely of the brilliant cinematography, the sea and the landscape. Still a rather early film and even so splendid and yet there is still even more splendid to come.

For those who first discovered Ingmar Bergman's work through the internationally acclaimed masterpieces of the late 1950s, there can be a reluctance to go too far back in time before that. After all, weren't the Swedish director's earliest films journeyman efforts where he did not have much control over the filmmaking process, and he had not yet found his distinct style? I, at any rate, get a feeling like this from his 1952 picture "Summer with Monika". I was delighted however, to find that the even earlier "Summer Interlude" to be a strong film. While shot in 1950, it fully anticipates Bergman's mature career.

As the film opens we are introduced to Marie (Maj-Britt Nilsson), a successful ballerina in Stockholm who is however visibly unsatisfied and emotionally distant from those around her. As she takes a ferry out to the Stockholm archipelago, the film switches into flashback mode and we learn the whole story of what made her what she is. Thirteen years before, while still a student and on summer holiday at the family cottage, she had a brief fling with Henrik (Birger Malmsten). This was a romantic -- and very nearly sexual -- awakening for them both, and Bergman depicts it with all the wistfulness of an adult looking back on the heady days of youth, just like the film's protagonist. Yet summer does not last forever, and events move in a direction that prevents the two from staying together.

As I said, this is already mature Bergman in some of its concerns: belief in God and dissatisfaction at God's silence, interpersonal relationships and the feeling that people wear a mask when dealing with others, and of course the fleeting nature of the bright and warm Nordic summer. I will not however call this one of Bergman's very greatest films. The ending, after we return to the present day from the flashback, feels wrong somehow, the rhythm suddenly jarring and Bergman's point inchoate.

Yet overall this is a satisfying picture to sit through, and there are many details to appreciate. Nilsson's acting is ultra-coquettish, and the sexual frankness on display here is surprising; this is in fact more daring than "Summer with Monika", a film with a wider such reputation internationally. The supporting roles by Georg Funkquist and Renée Björling as middle-aged friends of Marie's family lend the film more depth; their failed marriage is a moving counterpoint to the heady passion of the young lovers.

Marie, the beautiful young ballerina, is near the end of her career. She is sad and alone (often by her own choice). One day a diary appears and she shares with us a summer when happiness finally came and then was taken away. She is such a charismatic character, full of the drive that makes her the master of her craft, and yet fragile as she develops a relationship with a star struck young man who just pops into her life. She is sought after and knows the power she has over men, knowing no fear when it comes to that. She is selfish and protective of her privacy and consumed by her dance (as she should be). There are two tales her. One is the flashback romance of the Summer Interlude and true love. The other is that she must come to grips in some way with the fact that like a mayfly, a ballerina has a short life. When one is through with that role there has to be something else. The last ten minutes of this film are so revealing. We think of Bergman as frightened and cynical at times, presenting life as a chore with little reward. His characters are often pathetic and deep. In this, I think he was at least showing an optimistic being in the face of great tragedy.

Opening with a church bell, Ingmar Bergman proves his preoccupation with religion as he explores Maria's plight with a summer love as she works on rehearsals for the ballet Swan Lake. Falling in love deeper each day as the summer progresses, the two find themselves at a crossroads as Autumn arrives. A traumatic event causes Maria to reconsider her life at the end of her career and reconsider her summer spent in love. Summer Interlude was a deeply moving story, that needed little else in the way of technical prowess to be compelling.

Ingmar Bergman unfolds his 1951 drama, Summer Interlude, under a bleak canopy of the downhearted and disenchanted, an umbrella of gathering doom and gloom as both the summer skies and its respective weather gently gives way to the harsher and colder characteristics of autumn; as the rural locale in which the film is predominantly set becomes barer, less lush and more frightening as things gradually wind down for a longer, greyer haul. The said items greatly compliment a really stark, professionally observed and thoroughly engaging mediation on life and attitudes of old twinned with doomed romance whilst one was younger; a brilliantly played and fascinating in equal right observation of great intimacy on attitudes to life and those around one when one is younger simultaneously exploring that yearning for times gone by. From its frank opening act culminating in a woman deciding to journey out so as to confront both fears and the pain because of something which still resonates, to its closing of the lead peeling certain things away from her as she additionally quite literally reflects into a mirror following a somewhat successful journey, it is a devilishly involving romantic-drama which works brilliantly.

The film covers young Marie (Nilsson), a Swedish ballerina whose mind and whose memories make up the bulk of the film's runtime as she ventures out to a more rural part of her country, but only when the hard graft of bringing to life an incarnation of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake is temporarily halted. Her decision to do so is inspired by a collection of things she receives in the post, her facial reaction occupying most of the frame as a diegetic alarm bell within the theatre she's working sounds off and acts as a fitting soundtrack overlying the imagery. Once back on the floor following the role-call bell and practising again, the film presents us with what appears to be two or three different soundtracks of internal and external music playing over the images, as these rather dramatic dance procedures are presented to us in a relatively close up format whilst the impact of what was read or discovered barely a scene ago resonates. Post practise, a session brought to a premature end following some technical malfunction with required stage equipment, Marie leaves the building with her journalist boyfriend David (Kjellin).

We discover that she has had little time for him recently, the manner in which the production crew drive Marie fresh in our minds; Marie taking this opportunity to bury the proverbial hatchet by temporarily ditching David, as well as everything and everyone else, by leaving the mainland and heading on out to a more secluded rural spot featuring lakes; lake-houses; woods and isolated manor houses. Once there, at this somewhat desolate; cold; murky and rather frightening place, the film will cover events from thirteen years ago when she was barely out of her teenaged years and a love affair-come-friendship with young boy Henrik (Malmsten) doubling up as her first love. The harking back begins with the travelling by boat, each item acting as its own landmark upon which Marie's memory acts on particular cues, and Henrik's admitting to feeling for her through performance or third party spectatorship; specifically, that he has watched her perform many times as a ballerina and has felt how he does through these observations before having even met her.

Once at the island during her flashback, the warm weather and summer surroundings make for perfect conditions as she visits an aunt and uncle that live there; the occupying of a small beach house all by herself and prospect of lake swimming and time off greatly alluring. The weather compliments the deliberately romanticised nature of her memories, her attitude to most of those around her flirtatious and adventurous to say the least; her more recent opinions on these things, we come to feel, nothing but regretful. Her bond with Henrik is highly charged in a sexual manner without there ever being much in the way of embrace; a series of energetic altercations and interactions, in what we assume to be the relatively searing heat, seeing the pair of them wear little for most of the time as sessions of swimming in the nearby lake goes hand in hand with the erotic crawling around on all-fours in front of each other on the shore constructing mere games, while, on occasion, Henrik's own glee at eating wild fruit out of Marie's hands is additional content. Inbetween all of this sees the prancing and gallivanting around inspired by Marie's own occupation as a dancer, the very item that is the reason Henrik feels as he does, occurring.

Where in the past Marie slept in her bathing costume and woke up with a warm, glowing smile on her face as she leaped out of bed to tear open the curtains and then charge into the water to swim, times change. Where once she was happy as could be and couldn't wait to get started in the mornings during this holiday away, solemn and rueful looks around the locale that has remained the same occupy her lone, statue-like figure as she hurtfully reminisces to herself. The film is a painful mediation, but an honest and enthralling enough study of a young woman eventually coming to accept what has happened and, we feel, come to embrace what it is she currently has in her life. In every regard, it is a superior piece of doomed romance captured elegantly on film.

Really beautiful film until it's ending, which felt abrupt and tacked on to me. Bergman's endings are poor a fair amount of time it seems to me, but I would say this one is worse than usual. Otherwise, I liked it a lot. I tend to find Bergman's pre-superstardom films more exciting than the canonical ones. He's not as steeped in his own themes and the characters are allowed to seem more human and less like chesspieces of allegory.

The sense of the Scandanavian landscape is great in this, one of his relatively few films shot on location. One senses the great relief of the warm but brief summer of the flash back scenes. And the scenes in the autumnal present seem- well, bleak-Scandanavian-cold bleak. I imagine these scenes have inspired more than one Black Metal album cover.

The main actress, Maj-Britt Nilsson gives a great performance as an adolescent girl in the flashbacks and as a grown woman facing the end of youth in the narrative present. Both she and DP Gunnar Fischer were Bergman regulars before being replaced by more celebrated artists. They deserve their due in what has come to be known as the Bergman lexicon.

I think I can say that none of my very favorite films are "by Bergman". For me, none of his works are as great as the very best films of Ozu, Antonioni, Wenders, or Bresson. But then again, the Swede made so many really, really good movies that it does put him in a category all his own.

This was very boring to me, it's one of his earliest films and it shows. His later stuff is far more interesting than this summer romance movie. I wish I cared more about characters and the whole tragedy but unfortunately it didn't matter to me...