AN ANYLTICAL COMMENTARY OF ISAK BORG’S FIRST DREAM DURING THE OPENING OF WILD STRAWBERRIES
Wild Strawberries, one of Ingmar Bergman’s most celebrated and enduring works, is essentially the story of a man in crisis. Isak Borg is an elderly man who in his own words has ‘withdrawn from nearly all relations’, a decision that he admits has made his old age ‘rather lonely’. A respected physician specialising in bacteriology, he has been awarded an honorary doctorate from his alma mater – an event that forces him to to examine his past and his current relationships. Isak’s battle with his psyche is represented in both the physical journey he takes to the degree ceremony in Lund and through a number of highly symbolic dream sequences considered to be ‘some of the most memorable evocations of the unconscious in cinematic history.’
Isak’s first dream takes place the night before his trip to Lund, at the very beginning of the film. Bergman uses Isak’s voice over as a structural device, and it is his narration that introduces the viewer to a dream that he describes as ‘weird and very unpleasant’. The voice over creates continuity between the shot of a sleeping Isak and the first shot of him within his dream. The first shot of the sequence is a close up of a confused looking Isak. The camera stays static as he turns away from the viewer and walks down an ‘empty street with ruined houses’, a representation of his ‘withdrawal’ from society. Oppressively lit, Isak stands out amongst the mostly white and light grey tones of of the scene. He stops and looks up, and we see a point of view shot of a handless clock. Isak takes an object out of his pocket and we see yet another point of view shot, this time of his pocket watch, also handless. Bergman uses frequent close ups of Isak and shots from his point of view, aligning the viewer with the character; as Isak experiences fear and confusion we do to. The handless clock and pocket watch are two of the most significant images within the film, mocking Isak as ‘reminders of his own mortality’. The image is repeated later on in the film – ‘the dream world seeps into the real world’ when his mother gives him his late fathers watch, also handless. A pair of eyes hang below the clock, an image that could be interpreted as as being representative of failing sight both physically – another reminder of Isak’s mortality, and metaphorically – as his unwillingness to take a closer look into his behaviour. As Bergman switches between close ups of Isak and shots of the clocks the sound of a heartbeat gradually becomes louder, elevating the tension of the scene.
The sequence continues with a tracking shot of Isak as he walks along the street, turns around, and walks in the other direction. He stops and the camera cuts to a close up of the character in profile. Isak’s ghostly pallor is in stark contrast to to the almost pitch black background, emphasising his increasing unease within the dreamscape. Isak then turns around, and the scene cuts to a point of view shot of a man with his back to the viewer. The camera tracks Isak from behind as he walks towards the man. Isak reaches out to him. The man turns around and Isak recoils in horror at the sight of his distorted face. Isak then watches as the man collapses and blood runs from his body. The fact that Isak reaches out to the figure could be interpreted as a desire for company in his ‘lonely’ old age, the mans collapse symbolic of his ultimate inability to maintain close relationships. Structurally, the man comes 2 minutes into the 4-minute dream sequence, marking a turning point into more explicit nightmare territory – the images up until now had been more unsettling than truly frightening.
Isak is played by Victor Sjöström, one of the most significant directors of the silent era and a cultural icon in Sweden by the time of Wild Strawberries release. Sjöström’s work was hugely influential on Bergman and there are clear parallels between Wild Strawberries and Sjöström’s 1920 film, The Phantom Carriage, in which a wayward man has a premonition of a hellish afterlife. Bergman also lifts one of the central images in Sjöström’s film, a carriage of death that collects the souls of the recently departed, for use in Wild Strawberries. Isak watches as driverless funeral carriage lead by two black horses proceeds along the road. The wheel of the carriage becomes stuck behind a lamp post. The carriage hits against the lam post until the wheel eventually breaks off and rolls toward Isak. The horses struggle with the broken carriage as it sways violently from side to side. The diegetic sound of the carriage creaking is unnaturally loud and and is especially jarring within a sequence which has been for the most part silent. Bergman expresses the scene through a series of close ups of the coffin interspersed with shots of Isak subtly increasing in closeness. The juxtaposition of Isak and the coffin reinforces his preoccupation with his own mortality. The coffin falls from the carriage and the horses continue on their way. Bergman uses sound cues to emphasise the dream like quality of the scene. The scene cuts to a wide shot of Isak and the diegetic sounds of the horses and the creaking carriage comes to an unnaturally abrupt stop, signifying the illusory nature of the dream sequence.
Bergman’s