I love depression. I have a strange thing for guilt, sadness, and repressed anxiety in the subject matter of a film. Loneliness. Isolation. Fear. Our lives are all tempered by these feelings, and when expressed in film (or any art for that matter) they act to soothe the emotions they represent.
Of course, like everyone else, I also love a good Action Movie or Romantic Comedy. But, time after time in my life when I have been in search of something to truly move me, I have grabbed one of my Bergman films off the shelf, stuck it into the VCR, and hit play.
No one did reality like Bergman. A case in point is Scenes From a Marriage. Beautifully brutal. Honest. And hits home closer than we’d like it too.
I was sitting on the bus today on my way downtown, and glanced at the newspaper that the dude next to me was reading. It said, “Ingmar Bergman Dead”. Blunt. And yet appropriate.
He didn’t believe in God, so I won’t dishonor him by saying I hope he’s in a better place or something similarly trite. Instead, I’ll go home and have a film night.