Smiles Of A Summer Night

SMILES OF A SUMMER NIGHT, written & directed by Ingmar Bergman in 1955, wasn’t his first movie; he’d been working in films since 1941, and started directing them in 1946: at 37, this was his sixteenth time at the wheel. But this was the one that brought him to international attention. Not just that, the success may have been a life-saver: he was in a financial bind, his health was afflicted and he was depressed over a relationship, woe-loaded enough that he described his alternatives as either writing the film or killing himself. It co-stars an actress he was breaking up with (Harriet Andersson, 23,) and in a small role features another (Bibi Andersson, 19) he was becoming involved with. And… it’s a comedy. *

“I can tolerate my wife’s infidelity, but if anyone touches my mistress, I become a tiger.”

One of the ad tag lines serves as quick fix: “A roulette game of over-heated husbands…wandering wives…Machiavellian mistresses…and vixenish virgins…having the time-of-their-lives…all merrily marooned in the same chateau!”

Sweden, around the 19th century’s turn to the 20th. Middle-aged lawyer ‘Fredric Egerman’ (Gunnar Björnstrand, 45) is married to beautiful 19-year-old ‘Anne’ (Ulla Jacobsson, 26) yet after two years their union hasn’t proceeded to consummation, with passion-denied Anne understandably perplexed. Fredric can’t resist seeing longtime lover ‘Desiree Armfeldt’ (Eva Dahlbeck, 35) a haughty stage actress who’s in the midst of an affair with ‘Count Carl-Magnus Malcolm’ (Jarl Kulle, 27), a pompous army officer who’s managed to survive 18 duels. He’s married to fed-up minx ‘Charlotte’ (Margit Carlqvist, 23); the vexed Countess asks wily Desiree’s assistance in plotting payback. This hash-settling will occur at the country mansion of Desiree’s sardonic mama (Naima Wiftstrand, 64) who’s played and won a good many games in her own time. The sidelines bring in Fredric’s grown but immature son ‘Henrik’ (Björn Bjelfvenstam, 26), confused between religious piety and earthly temptations. Those are mercilessly teased by sexy ‘Petra’ (Harriet Andersson), Anne’s free-spirited maid and cheerful confidante. Who will do what, when and with whom?

“We all know that each man has his dignity. We women have the right to commit manifold sins against husbands, lovers and sons, excepting one: to offend their dignity. If we do so, we are foolish and must bear the consequences. Rather, we should make of a man’s dignity our foremost ally and caress it, soothe it, speak fondly to it and handle it as our dearest toy. Only then do we have a man in our hands, at our feet, or wherever else we want him at that particular moment.”

Ad blurbs tend to hyperbole, and the one above, while accurate in its character corral makes it seem like the piece is something ‘madcap’ (it was later retooled/re-tuned as a musical, the filmed version of which tanked) but the mirth is keener and deeper than simple frolic (not that there’s anything wrong with romp) and the jousted barbs are interspersed with philosophical ruminations, hurts and longings that resonate on a level apart from the comedic. Bergman in his private life was a serial philanderer, something that loaded him with an ample supply of guilt. The foolish men don’t come off well in his story, a valentine to the women (the insightful characters and the glowing actresses), recognizing their patience and exasperation with the hairy half of our specie and saluting their skill at defending themselves with the weapons at their disposal. There’s enough going on in the booby-trapped laden screenplay and the subtly textured performances to reward repeat viewings. The actors are sublime.

MRS. ARMFELDT: “Your father once threw me out of a window. ” “DESIREE: “Was it open?” MRS. ARMFELDT: “No, closed. I fell straight into a lieutenant colonel. He later became your father.” DESIREE: “You said my father threw you out.” MRS. ARMFELDT: “He became your father later, I said. Aren’t you listening? My God I loved him so!” DESIREE: “Which one?” MRS. ARMFELDT: “The one who threw me out the window, of course. The other one was a dolt. He never could do anything amusing.”

The $100,000 cribbed to produce it ($1,250,000 in 2026) was at the time a large amount for a Swedish film. Released in Stockholm the day after Christmas of 1955, it garnered admiring reviews and toured the ’56 film festival round in Europe (Cannes, etc.). An art house run in the US in 1957 yielded a pittance take amounting to $100,000.

Beautifully photographed by Gunnar Fischer (Wild Strawberries, The Seventh Seal). With Åke Fridell (35, the jovial horse groom), Jullan Kindahl (70, the cook), and Gull Natorp (75, Desiree’s dresser). 109 minutes.

* “Det man måste göra, det måste man göra.”—though Harriet Andersson and Ingmar split, they worked together four more times for a total of seven. For Bibi Andersson (no relation to Harriet), in a quick bit as an actress in one of Desiree’s plays, this was her first of a dozen projects with Bergman. Gunnar Björnstrand teamed with him 23 times, more than any other actor.

Long distance calling in 1955: Panther Panchali, The Ladykillers, Rififi, Les Diaboliques, Lola Montes.

Ingmar’s gift was later repackaged as the 1973 stage musical A Little Night Music (later a 1977 film) and delivered again in 1982 as A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy, done by Woody Allen. His version, though not in the same haystack the one crafted by his idol, is enjoyable. The musical has a generally dismal rep.

DESIREE: “For once, I was truly innocent.” MRS. ARMFELDT: “It must have been early in the evening.”