Scenes from a Marriage (Scener ur ett äktenskap)

SCENES FROM A MARRIAGE A FILM BY INGMAR BERGMAN

- This room will be ideal for pictures. - Sit here on the sofa.

Everybody look at the camera.

Nice, isn't it? Let's see some happy faces.

INNOCENCE AND PANIC

Smile. You too, Mom.

Watch the hair!

That's the shot.

- Are we done? - I think so.

The girls can go, at any rate.

- Good job, girls. - Go have your sandwiches.

Good as gold. Bye-bye.

How about some shots of the husband and wife on the sofa?

Sure. Move forward.

Don't slouch down.

- I'll make myself look smaller. - Make it a close-up.

Talk to each other.

- Marianne, turn your gaze a bit. - Look as if you're fond of each other.

Now smile at each other.

Hold it. That's great.

I got my shot, thank you.

Take a few portraits too.

Well, let's get cracking. I generally use a standard opener

to put people at ease.

- I'm not particularly nervous. - All the better.

So, how would you describe yourselves in a few words?

- That's tricky. - Is it?

- I might give the wrong impression. - You think so?

It sounds cocky if I say I'm bright,

youthful, successful and sexy.

My mind has a global scope, I'm educated, and a I'm a great mixer.

What else?

I'm a good friend, even to those less fortunate than myself.

I'm sporty, and I'm a good father and a good son.

I don't have any debts, and I pay my taxes.

I respect our government, no matter what.

I love our royal family. I don't belong to the state church.

Is that good, or do you want more details?

I'm a fantastic lover. Isn't that right, Marianne?

Maybe we should skip that question. Your turn, Marianne.

What can I say?

I'm married to Johan and we have two daughters.

- I can't think of anything else. - Sure you can.

- I think Johan is very nice. - How kind of you.

- We've been married for ten years. - Yes, I just renewed the contract.

I lack Johan's boundless self-assurance,

but in all honesty, I'm happy I lead the life I do.

It's a good life, if you know what I mean.

What else should I say? This is difficult.

- She has a great figure. - I'm trying to take this seriously.

- I have two girls, Karin and Eva. - You said that already.

Let's move on to the particulars. How old are you?

- I'm 42, but it doesn't show. - I'm 35.

We come from ridiculously bourgeois backgrounds.

Johan's father is a physician.

My mother is very much the mother.

My father is a lawyer.

It was decided early on that I would become one too.

I'm the youngest of seven children.

My mother ran a large household.

- Nowadays she takes things easier. - Oh, really?

Oddly enough, we enjoy the company of our parents.

We see each other often, and we rarely clash.

Maybe we should talk about your professions.

I'm an associate professor at the Psychotechnology Institute.

My field is family law.

I belong to a large law firm and deal mostly with divorce.

The interesting thing about my job is...

Don't move! Hold that pose.

Take a picture and get that look.

Good. Great.

- Oh, that makes me feel... - You'll get used to it.

How did you meet?

I'll leave that to Johan.

Now, that's an interesting tale.

It wasn't love at first sight.

Both of us socialized quite a lot, and we often ran into each other.

For many years we were heavily involved in political causes

and belonged to a drama group at school.

We weren't particularly interested in each other.

I guess Marianne thought I was conceited.

At the time, Johan was in a highly publicized romance with a pop singer.

It gave him a certain image, and he was cocky.

At 19, Marianne was married to a boy whose only virtue was a rich father.

He was very kind, and I was crazy about him.

I also got pregnant.

- But how did you... - Get together?

Basically, it was Marianne's idea.

My baby died soon after it was born, and my husband and I split up.

Johan's singer had given him his walking papers.

Both of us were shaken,

so I suggested we start seeing each other.

We weren't in love, but both of us were unhappy.

We realized that we got along famously,

and our grades improved.

So we decided to live together.

We expected our mothers to be shocked, but they weren't.

They became fast friends.

We were accepted as a couple

and got married six months later.

- By that time we were in love. - Madly in love.

- People saw us as the perfect couple. - And it's been that way ever since.

Without any hitches?

Our material needs are met.

We get on well with all our friends and relations.

We have good jobs that we enjoy. We're in good health.

And so on and so forth, to an almost embarrassing degree.

Security, order, contentment, loyalty.

We're indecently fortunate.

We do have our disagreements, but basically we get along well.

- Don't you ever quarrel? - Marianne quarrels.

Johan is so slow to anger that it takes the wind out of my sails.

That all sounds fabulous.

I heard someone say just last night

that the very lack of problems could cause strife.

We're well aware of the hazards of a life like ours.

Hazards? How do you mean?

The world is going to the dogs, and I prefer to live and let live.

I'm entitled to simply look out for number one.

It makes me sick to hear about the latest panacea.

- I don't feel the same way as Johan. - How do you feel?

I believe... in compassion.

Could you please expand on that?

If we all learned to care about our fellow man from childhood,

the world would be different.

Hold that pose. Look into the camera.

Listen to this:

"Marianne's eyes are as blue as a folk song and are lit up from within.

When I ask her how she copes with it all, she smiles in shy delight

and replies that she and Johan both pitch in."

Which happens to be true.

"'We understand each other, ' she replies,

brightening as Johan sits down next to her on the heirloom sofa.

Protectively, he puts his arm around her, eliciting a smile."

- Hey! - Here comes the best bit.

"As I take my leave, I notice how they secretly appreciate that fact

so they can bask in each other's presence once more.

Two souls who have matured together sharing a positive outlook,

yet never forgetting to put love in the forefront."

We were mortified when we read it.

I considered taking action, but our mothers adored the piece.

One thing gets me: My eyes didn't get a mention.

Don't they shine with a secret light?

They're more like dark pools. The effect is quite sexy.

Katarina has a crush on you.

- How about running off with me? - A change would do Johan good.

He's lived a married life for ten years, and he's never strayed.

Are you sure?

Certainly. From the get-go I decided to believe everything Johan tells me.

Did you hear that, Katarina?

Well, I bet Johan is a better liar than you, my silly little darling.

I'm afraid I have a limited imagination.

That's just it.

Less imagination makes for better liars.

Peter embroiders his tales too much.

It's almost touching.

I read your piece in Technical Times. Even I could understand it.

- Actually, Katarina wrote it. - Are you really that clever?

I was in Germany, and they wanted an article on the spot.

So Katarina whipped one up and read it to me over the phone.

Why does it have your byline?

It's not discrimination or anything.

We generally collaborate.

That's admirable.

Not if you consider how badly we get along.

Frankly, things are hell.

Cheers, honey!

Cheers.

But surely I can tell Johan and Marianne how things are?

- What's wrong, Katarina? - Nothing.

Peter can be such a clod. That's all.

I'm a clod, all right.

I'm proud to be a clod and to have an imagination.

The odd thing is that Katarina thinks I'm a spineless jellyfish.

Oh, my!

Let's try to have a pleasant time and not get into life's injustices.

That's why we shouldn't forget...

It's time for a little speech,

with reference to that blessed article on the two of you.

Let's not forget that we are in the presence of a happy home

that shouldn't be soiled with our emotional crap.

Cheers, Marianne. The meal was lovely.

I may not envy your domestic bliss,

but I do admire your culinary talents.

I mean it.

I really wish Katarina could pick up a few pointers.

Katarina's a much better cook.

Peter thinks I poison his food.

It's a running joke at our house.

It was clear it was a joke, right?

One that's hard to digest.

Let's have some coffee in the living room.

What should I do now?

I seem to have put my foot in my mouth again.

The girls will clear the table.

It's pretty damn touching.

What is?

Your marriage.

Johan and Marianne.

It's so touching, it brings tears to your eyes.