I’ve seen some of Bergman’s movies before, his perceived masterpieces, Persona and Cries and Whispers, as well as the faith trilogy and Autumn Sonata.
The most recent addition was The Seventh Seal and one of the most powerful dialogue sequence made me smile.
I went back to my blog and re-read Pantomime and Sultry mornings
and wondered, would I have written these had I watched the movie before or the self imposed compulsion of sounding original and incomprehensible—part vanity, part fear—even in most universal of conundrums might have stopped me. It seems funny, when no one reads this blog anymore, I am giving away the key to two of narratives, which I tried so desperately to conceal.
Anyways, here is some part of our protagonist’s confession to death, disguising as a priest.
Block: Is it so hard to conceive God with one's senses? Why must He hide in a midst of vague promises and invisible miracles? How are we to believe the believers when we don't believe ourselves? What will become of us who want to believe but cannot? And what of those who neither will nor can believe? Why can I not kill God within me? Why does He go on living in a painful, humiliating way? I want to tear Him out of my heart, but He remains a mocking reality which I cannot get rid of. Do you hear me?
Priest/Death: I hear you.
[Block turns to kneel before the priest behind the confessional screen.]
Block: I want knowledge. Not belief. Not surmise. But knowledge. I want God to put out His hand, show His face, speak to me.
Priest/Death: But He is silent.
Block: I cry to Him in the dark, but there seems to be no one there.
Priest/Death: Perhaps there is no one there.
Block: Then life is a senseless terror. No man can live with Death and know that everything is nothing.
Priest/Death: Most people think neither of Death nor nothingness.
Block: Until they stand on the edge of life and see the Darkness.
Priest/Death: Ah, that day.
Block: [laughs bitterly] I see. We must make an idol of our fear, and call it God.