Why Do Some People Have All The Luck While Others Are Miserable? Summer With Monika (1953)

I am currently working my way through the fascinating set of episodes entitled The Story of Film: An Odyssey which are currently available on Netflix Watch Instantly, I might look into writing a brief blog about them when finishing.  The expertly crafted documentary has served as a refresher course on some of my favorite moments in film, while also reminding me that there are a ton of films, both globally and genre wise that I have yet to see, or am even aware of for that matter.  While I knew about Summer With Monika due to its relatively recent Criterion release, I had sat it aside as something I might get around to watching, an action that seems far to frequent when concerning the works of Bergman.  However, when the episode of European New Wave film came about a brief scene from Summer With Monika popped up and I was instantly captivated and pushed aside who knows what film in order to assure that it would be included at some point on this month of women oriented posts.  I am glad I did so because, in a uniquely Bergman way, the film manages to weave together an existential reflection on suffering and satisfaction, while also being a multi-narrative coming of age tale set against a working class Swedish landscape so bare and disparaging that it makes Bergman's most critically well received film, a personal favorite of mine, The Seventh Seal look optimistic.  Many seem content to claim Orson Welles as the master of black and white filmmaking and while I would never question his relevance or magnitude as a director, I think the magical minimalism one receives from the work of Bergman rivals, and at times surpasses, Welles on multiple levels, not to mention, Bergman's deceptively innocent narrative, which begin optimistic and carefree only to come clashing into the bitter truths of reality.  Upon my initial viewing of Moonrise Kingdom, I suggested that it was quite a great film, and I do still think it better than a lot of things that were released last year, however, when I realize that the quirky beach romance scene is heavily lifted from a far more sobering scene in Summer With Monika, I am reminded that the "borrowing" Wes Anderson often does places him in a category far similar to that of Tarantino than as an indie god that he seems intent on maintaining.

Summer With Monika, focuses, as the title suggests on a summer spent with a girl named Monika (Harriet Andersson), but the narrative does not solely focus on Monika, but, instead; her relationship with a young man named Harry (Lars Ekborg) whom she takes a liking to after bumming a match off of him at a restaurant.  The two instantly fall head-over-heels for one another spending countless days and nights together, so much so that both eventually quit their jobs in order to assure plenty of time together, yet, what starts off as innocent dates to cheesy American movies evolves into a very serious and intimate relationship that is not wholly embraced by their friends and family, particularly considering that Monika appears to have romantic pasts with multiple men in the town whose jealousy is often directed in a physical manner upon Harry.  After one to many instances of frustration and condemnation the two commandeer a family members boat and take a trip to a secluded beach.  It is there that they set up a small pseudo-life together eating what they can acquire off the land and sharing in a very physical relationship.  Yet, when Monika discovers that she is pregnancy their faux-adulthood comes crashing into reality and every action and though its predicated upon assuring the safety of the unborn child, including Monika's desire for real meat, which leads to them stealing from a rich household, only to get caught in the process.  Eventually realizing that they can no longer survive in the wild the two return to their town where they are faced with needing jobs, Harry goes to school to be an engineer while also helping Monika raise a child.  Monika grows discontent quickly without being able to spend frivolously and engage in a carefree lifestyle.  She eventually leaves Harry out of frustration at their lack and is shown talking with men at bars, at which point Monika breaks the fourth wall in a defiant reaction to viewers condemnation.  Harry is shown taking care of the child on his own and the film ends rather abruptly, no hope for the reunion, because in reality young love rarely works out perfectly.

It would be easy for a viewer to call this movie depressing and, as a result, not very watchable.  It would also be simple to dismiss Monika as a vindictive and ignorant character and thus not likable.  However, both situations absolutely betray the complexities present within Bergman's beautiful film.  A certain portion of people go to movies to escape the woes of reality and hope to be shown something that affirms a higher good in the world.  Those persons are not who Bergman made films for, particularly considering that he was highly personal with the imagery and narratives he created, whether it be their scathing inquiries into the existence of God, or perplexing reflections on the possibility of romantic ideals in an abrasive modernist society.  For Bergman, and for Monika in this film, normalcy and expectation are far from comforting and, in fact, betray any sense of progress of self-affirmation.  Monika is not a vengeful character as so many reviewers seem to suggest, I would argue that she is a victim of modernity, in that she seeks answers to her own existence, one she hopes to detach from the suffering and woes of her working class parents, as well as the consuming longing of every male she seems to encounter.  It appears for much of the narrative that she has achieved this sort of free floating state of escapism with Harry, which is beautifully made into a metaphor with the boat, yet, when that constantly moving separation from the tragedies of reality is destroyed, out of what seems to be ungrounded malice that reality returns and no amount of assurance or hard work by Harry can help Monika deny her chains of working class oppression.  As such she begins her quest again, although her recent experiences seem to have darkened her prospects of escape, literally so in the scene when she breaks the fourth wall.  Instead, Monika, Harry and one could say the viewers are left to embrace the fleeting memories of touches, sounds and dances only to know that it is these infrequent moments of happiness that allow for the misery of everyday life to be bearable.

Key Scene:  Monika and Harry dancing on the pier will break your heart and it is at a point in the film when you still have hope for their relationships survival, but it is executed with such symmetrical, minimalist detachment that it clearly serves to distance this ideal moment form the aforementioned tragedies of reality.

This is a masterful film, but one should expect nothing less from the great Swedish director.  I watched this on Hulu and it looked fantastic, however, I intend to get the bluray and suggest you do the same.

What's Wrong With A Stroller?: Away We Go (2009)

In the wake of the seeming success of Skyfall, a film I have yet to watch and as reflection of the relevance American Beauty seems to lose as the decades continue, I was somewhat surprised upon beginning Away We Go to discover that it was directed by Sam Mendes, who has director credits for the previously mentioned and critically celebrated films.  I am uncertain as to why Away We Go managed to accrue much less praise considering that I found it to be incredibly provocative, well-executed and perhaps one of the most difficult films to watch without immediately exuding a heavy emotional response.  It combines all the sentimentality, quirkiness and obscure guitar heavy music one could desire from an indie film, yet with a director like Mendes at the wheel and well established comedic actors the film transcends this genre cornering both in its mainstream qualities as well as its vibrancy.  The actors in this film, most of which are playing considerably self-loathing characters, deliver performances of such a high degree that it cannot, and should not be ignored.  I would venture to pair this film with something like Up In The Air, although Away We Go focuses on a considerably younger group of people, nonetheless, it manages to tap into the life force of those it studies with such earnestly and vigor that it makes for a insanely watchable film.  It also does not hurt that the film is visually alluring and delivers some of the most jarringly beautiful cinematography one could ever excpect from a film which sells itself as a light comedy.  I actually wonder if it is not the terrible misappropriation of this film as a comedic piece that caused its initial demise, because while I certainly laughed loudly at moments throughout Away We Go its larger context and motifs reflect the most tragic of human moments, ones that seem doomed to continue and it suggest that only those with the strongest of love can transcend the absurdity, however, escaping such physical attachments still takes little account of the emotional and mental strains such a framework causes.

Away We Go begins with a couple discovering that they are to have a child, the couple Verona (Maya Rudolph) and Burt (John Krasinski) remain unmarried, although they are clearly mad about each other, an act that is a direct honor to Verona's parents who died when she was only twenty-two.  The realization that their lives will change irreversibly after the birth of their child, Verona and Burt plan a trip accross The United States and into Canada with the hopes of discovering the perfect place to raise their child, a decision heavily influenced by the announcement that Burt's parents will be moving to Belgium well before the birth of the child.  This trip allows for both Verona and Burt to reflect on their own relationship and what they have achieved with their young adult lives, which becomes quite blatant between each group they meet.  The first two people, one of which was a former coworker of Verona consume alcohol feverishly and demean their kids as they clearly live through their own disillusionment, blaming everyone but themselves for their unhappiness.  Verona's sister Grace (Carmen Ejogo) seeks solace within her sister, while also displaying some degree of jealousy towards what she sees between Burt and Verona.  In a meet-up with Burt's half-sister LN (Maggie Gyllenhaal) the couple realize the disaster that is "new age" parenting, a method in which LN and her partner Roderick (Josh Hamilton) seem far more concerned with embracing their own miseries and desires than providing any sense of normalcy for their children.  When they meet another couple, old college friends, they witness the problems of miscarriage and desire to fill a void of loss.  Even during an unexpected trip to Burt's brother adds a layer to their understanding of live, as they help him through the devastation of his wife's unexpected leaving of him and his daughter.  Defeated and more confused than ever Verona and Burt fall asleep on a trampoline and awake to decide that their best course of action is to return home and raise their child, although we are not quite sure in the closing moments of the film where exactly that home may be.

This film poignantly captures the woes of growing up in a world that problematically embraces individualized misery.  The characters noted above, all exist in their own severe depressions and become so preoccupied with the disdain that it causes them to distance themselves from one another.  This causes each to resort to some degree of false fulfillment, whether it be alcohol or hyper-protective parenting.  Even with some one like LN, viewers are shown a person who is so concerned with creating a cozy and unified existence with their child that they create a humongous bed for the who family to share, not realizing the irony in making such a large sleeping space, an act that has inherent intimacy about it.  Of course,  the exception to this action within the film comes through Verona and Burt, and while they are certainly individuals, there actions are often extensions of one another.  It is only when Verona reflects on her parents death that she steps away from Burt for any length of time, often waiting until he is either on the phone with clients or sleeping as to not suggest a separation from him.  It is actually their incredible closeness blended with an ability to organically separate and unify as necessary that allows for Burt and Verona to move throughout the film, eventually growing above everyone else pain and suffering.  They often contest whether they are growing up properly and worry about their futures in relation to those they have viewed, yet, one cannot help but feel as though their reassurance and comfort allows for fears to be quickly overcome and shared happiness to be explosively shared, as we see in the closing, heart-wrenchingly beautiful scene.  They choose to go about their lives, in both misery and happiness together, as opposed to the individualized concerns of those they encountered previously, made all the more pertinent by the fact that they are able to do so even without the ties of marriage.

Key Scene:  The closing moments of this film are exceptional and a worthy conclusion to such a fantastic and criminally underrated film.

The bluray for this is quite magnificent and incredibly cheap, a copy is essential.