Criterion outfits one of Ingmar Bergman’s most severe and ambitious films with a customarily gorgeous transfer.
Ingmar Bergman’s Cinema may be exhaustive, but with all the indelible beauty it contains, it’s never exhausting.
Margarethe von Trotta’s documentary reminds us of the reasons for Bergman’s continued influence on cinema today.
Both versions of Bergman’s epic marital battle royale have been outfitted with grittily beautiful and highly detailed new transfers.
Compassionate and structurally intriguing, Stig Björkman’s documentary is a stellar portrait of a great artist.
The films offer a touching close study of the on-screen symbiosis of Max von Sydow and Liv Ullmann.
The film highlights the potent dichotomies that made the actress luminescent both on and off screen.
Ullmann spoke with us about Miss Julie’s contemporary relevancy, Chastain’s award-worthy performance, and more.
Liv Ullmann’s film is no tearjerker, but it makes the stage play’s guessing-game quality on screen without copping to reductivism.
A new element in Look of Silence is the view it offers of those who knew murdered victims or who managed to escape death.
The godfather of contemporary postmodern art films remains vital, mysterious, and, thanks to Criterion, utterly gorgeous.
The film’s educational impetus is to announce to the world that even picture-perfect Norwegians continue to pay a heavy price for the horrors of WWII.
The documentary not only humanizes Ingmar Bergman as the absent lover-cum-father of everyday life, but works as a priceless oral history of cinema.
The film remains a fascinating sampler of Bergman’s most brilliant and troubled tendencies.
The two life choices that Bergman entertains are frightening.
Its heaven-on-Earth is revealed to be an intellectual safety-deposit box tucked away from a world ready to tear itself to shreds.
These cinematic sisters leave a mark as strong as a thicker-than-water bond.
Only completists (and, possibly, masochists) should bother to face off against Face to Face.
For me, movies approximate a dream state.
When Bibi Andersson cries in an Ingmar Bergman film, it really seems to hurt her.