Ingmar Bergman's film The Magician is a genuine treasure, combining the haunting kind of atmosphere used so effectively a year earlier for The Seventh Seal with a less austere and more arts oriented theme.

Historical Background: The Magician (1958) came near the middle of one of Bergman's most productive periods. The fear of failure had been dissipated with the success of Smiles of a Summer Night (1955). Then came the two brilliant successes of 1957, The Seventh Seal and Wild Strawberries. The Magician shared Bergman's attention the following year with Brink of Life. Two more brilliant films came along in the three years after The Magician: The Virgin Spring (1959 ), and Through a Glass Darkly (1961). Later Bergman would turn his focus to marriages and families, but in 1957, he was still thoroughly invested in meditations on existence, religion, and rationality vs. religion and/or art.

The Story: It is 1846 and an itinerant troupe of magicians and charlatans, known as "Vogler's Magnetic Health Theater" are traveling from one town to another. The leader of the group is Albert Emanuel Vogler (Max von Sydow), whose costume consists of a black beard and wig and long-tailed magician's jacket. He's also a mute, or at least feigns being one as part of his act. Vogler's wife, Manda (Ingrid Thulin), travels disguised as Vogler's androgynous-looking young ward, Mr. Aman. Also in the group is an old crone, Granny Vogler (Naima Wifstand), who practices magic and makes phony love potions and health draughts from rat poison and other materials. "I see what I see and I know what I know," says the old witch. Vogler was a wily old assistant named Tubal (Åke Fridell) who makes no bones about the deceptive nature of their activities and has less interest in magic than in seducing young or middle-aged women. Then also, there's the coach driver, Simson, who is a bit chubby and insecure, but who likes to feign a great history of past sexual conquests. The troupe's carriage passes through some particularly eerie, mist-laden woods, causing Granny Vogler to exclaim about ghouls, with bloody eyeless sockets, screeching in the forest. When the driver also hears the sounds of a moaning voice, he abruptly stops the carriage, and hops in with the others, out of fear.

Vogler tramps out into the woods alone to investigate and finds an old drunk, named Johan Spegel (Bengt Ekerot), in the midst of delirium tremens. Spegel begs for a gulp of brandy. Being an old actor himself, Spegel immediately recognizes that Vogler is wearing a false beard and a wig and inquires whether Vogler is "a swindler who needs to conceal his face?" Vogler does not answer but helps the man back to their carriage. Spegel, something of a charlatan himself, feigns dying, mainly for the benefit of Vogler, who is morbidly interested in catching the very moment of passage.

When Vogler's carriage arrives in Stockholm, the entire group is taken into custody by the local authorities. Their reputation as disreputable charlatans has traveled ahead of them, leading to their apprehension by the police. Before receiving a license to do their show in public, they'll have to provide a demonstration in front of a tribunal consisting of the Consul Abraham Egerman (Erland Josephson), the Police Superintendent Frans Starbeck (Toivo Pawlo), and the Minister of Health, Dr. Vergerus (Gunnar Björnstrand). One of the three, Egerman, is at least sympathetic. He and his wife Ottilia (Gertrud Fridh) have a deep interest in spiritual matters, especially since the death of one of their young children. Vergerus, on the other hand is a man of science and skepticism, and has little patience with claims regarding animal magnetism or quack health remedies. He's determined to expose the troupe as a bunch of unscrupulous humbugs. In the meanwhile, the entire group will be put up in Egerman's spacious mansion. Vogler and his crew will have to eat in the kitchen with the servants.

That's good luck for Tubal and Simon. They'll have a chance to turn on the charm and try to seduce the kitchen help. Tubal soon has the cook, Sofia Garp (Sif Ruud), wrapped around his pinky – or so he thinks. She knows darn well he's a phony but she buys a couple of bottles of his love potion anyway. She's been a widow for eight years and is hot to trot. She returns the bottles but takes the vendor into her bedroom. Meanwhile, Simson plays at seducing Sara (Bibi Andersson), a gorgeous and voluptuous maid. He's a bit taken back when she proves more than willing because he actually has little if any experience. Egerman's wife locates Vogler alone in the salon, preparing his show. She's convinced that Vogler is her soul mate and confessor. "I've longed for you," she says. "My thoughts have been with you." She's convinced that Vogler will explain why her daughter died at such a young age. "That is why you have come," she adds, "to soothe my grief and lift the burden from my shoulders." She instructs Vogler to come to her room that night. Later, Spegel reappears, still teetering on the threshold of death. When he topples over at last, Vogler stuffs him in the coffin they use as a prop in the magic show.

Meanwhile, Vergerus expounds on the virtues of science and rationality and the demerits of religion and spirituality. He and Egerman have a bet going, the Doctor maintaining that nothing will transpire that cannot be rationally explained. The show begins with some basic parlor magic – a levitation illusion using wires and pulleys. Starbeck takes great delight in pulling away the curtain to reveal the mechanism to the audience. Soon, however, Manda Vogler asks for a woman to volunteer for a mind control demonstration and Starbeck's wife, Henrietta (Ulla Sjöblom), is selected. While entranced, she'll speak only the truth. And so she does. She promptly reveals that her husband wears a toupee, farts incessantly, and frequents a brothel, much to Starbeck's chagrin. Then, as the act ends, she feigns confusion and amnesia, asking if she said anything impertinent.

The next act proves fateful. This time the magicians ask for a strong, male volunteer. Egerman orders his burly stableman, Antonsson (Oscar Ljung), to volunteer, though Antonsson is reluctant. Manda wraps the man up in an invisible chain, declaring that he'll be unable to move. Sure enough, Antonsson is unable to break free from the nonexistent chains, almost falling over. When he is finally released from the spell, he attacks Vogler, getting a stranglehold on him. Antonsson is finally pried loose and escorted from the room. During the confusion, the magicians quickly place Spegel's corpse where Vogler was lying while being strangled and attach Vogler's beard and wig. When Dr. Vergerus returns, he declares Vogler dead. Starbeck orders an immediate autopsy – in the name of science. The corpse is removed to the attic for the dissection.

SKIP THE NEXT TWO PARAGRAPHS TO AVOID SPOILERS!

The magic show, which for all appearances abruptly ended, is really just beginning. Vogler has prepared the attic, with mirrors, sound effects, a fake hand, and other illusions to put a genuine fear into the smug Vergerus. Mandy quietly locks the attic door from the outside, adding to the fear factor. Vergerus struggles prodigiously to argue away the experiences, concluding, for example, that he's having a dream or going mad. What appears to be Vogler's ghost shows up and corners the hapless Vergerus. Later, when the ruse is exposed, Vergerus declares that Vogler only succeeded in making him fearful of death.

Despite their highly entertaining show, Vogler and his troupe are about to be run out of town, without so much as a modest payment. Sustenance not being within Vogler's repertoire of illusions, he has to beg pathetically, dressed in rags, for a pittance from his unappreciative hosts. At the last moment, however, a messenger arrives stating that the royal family has demanded the presence of the magicians for a show at the palace.

Themes: The themes of The Magician are as pertinent today as they were when the film was made. One issue is rationality vs. irrationality. Science is the stand-in for rationality, as it is typically in films. In some Bergman films, the conflict between rationality and irrationality is played out as science (or skepticism or atheism) vs. religion. On that plane of the argument, Bergman ultimately came down on the side of rationality. Here, however, religion gets only a brief mention, when Vergerus declares, "God is silent and the humans babble." The "God is silent" motif is an essential one for Bergman (see, for example The Seventh Seal), who concluded, essentially, that since God doesn't show himself ("speak"), he must not exist.

For this film, the rationality vs. irrationality conflict is being set up in quite another way: irrationality is here represented by the arts. A magic show may be the most evidently illusory of the arts, but illusion is also an essential part of cinema, theater, painting, music, and literature. Obviously, Bergman, as an artist, sides with the irrational when the dichotomy is formulated in this way. Bergman had a lifelong fondness for magic, ever since he was given a "magic lantern" when he was ten. As a child, he staged his own puppet shows and magic exhibitions. He gave the title The Magic Lantern to his autobiography.

In fairness to science, those scientists who are most knowledgeable about psychology and/or neuroscience understand that the human mind is both rational and irrational. The cognitive processes of the cerebral cortex are potentially rational but the subconscious mind (belonging to the limbic system and diencephalon) is inherently irrational. Even the most rational, intellectual kind of person simultaneously experiences the universe irrationally. Fear, love, pleasure, and anger, for example, are inherently irrational aspects of human experience. There is no genuine choice to view existence only rationally. One can only hope to complement irrational experience with rational thought. There may be isolated instances of hyper-rational individuals with (ironically) an irrational fear of the irrational, but authentic science is not truly at odds with such forms of irrationality as fantasy, myth, or the irrational elements of artistic expression.

The old hag sells fake philters masquerading as love potions but the recipients end up lusting after one another anyway. Today, we call that the "placebo effect." Expectation (which is an irrational influence) is an important, even predictable, part of drug action. Vogler skillfully draws out the skeptical Vergerus's fears by first letting him think he's won, that the show is over, and that Vogler himself has died. With his guard down, Vergerus is easy prey to the magician's further illusions. Since the subconscious mind is as much in need of stimulation as the conscious part, artists and (other) magicians are vital to a healthy and creative society. Works of art can appeal as much to the subconscious mind as to rationality. The best artists and magicians educate us because they sometimes understand us better than we understand ourselves. Bergman takes the opportunity to decry the fact that so many artists, like Vogler in this film, are reduced to begging for subsistence support from the societal institutions, such as the politicians (Egerman), the law (Starbeck), and the scientists and technologists (Vergerus).

Bergman concludes (as I would as well) that religions are an adverse kind of irrationality but the illusory (and, hence, irrational) aspects of the arts are essential to the quality of human life. Is that hypocritical? Why aren't the arts as damaging as religions, in human society? It's a matter of honesty and integrity. When you walk out of a movie theater, you know that what you just saw was an illusion. When you read a myth or a novel, you know that it springs from its creator's imagination. By contrast, the man in charge at your house of worship has done his level best to ensure that when you walk out of the place, after a gathering, you'll actually believe the illusions that have been created. The closest equivalent in the arts would be a piece of cinema presented as a documentary that is actually fabricated. Another example was Orson Welles's famous radio show in which he simulated an attack on earth by aliens so realistically, that many people were taken in and some injured. Both of those examples of art works are widely viewed as unethical. When illusion is misrepresented as reality, in a way that becomes harmful to an audience member, we call it charlatanism or fraud. A magician is not obligated to show you how he does his tricks, but he should also not imply a supernatural basis for the illusions. Letting kids believe in elves and fairies and Santa Clause is harmless enough as well as stimulating to the imagination, because the game is implied throughout and revealed in the end. Science should have no issue with fantasy, but science is and should be at odds with those examples of irrationality that masquerade as revealed truth. In the end, Bergman gives the arts a victory over an excess of rationality, but at no time, in the film, does Bergman suggest that anything truly supernatural transpired.

Another variation on the theme of irrationality explored here by Bergman is the kinds of illusions we create about our self-identities: the masks we wear. The notions of masks and persona were recurrent themes in Bergman's films, notably in Persona (1966). Vogler wears his black beard and wig to create an air of mystery. Manda's costume gives her an androgynous appearance that adds to that mystery. Starbeck wears a wig out of vanity and is thus a charlatan as well. Vergerus wears his air of rational skepticism with pompous authority but, hypocritically, his subconscious proves just as active as anyone else's. Illusion and deceit are routine aspects of human interaction. The character Spegel declares, "Deceit is of such universal occurrence that he who speaks the truth is, as a rule, branded as the greatest of liars." That idea reminds me of the U.N. weapons inspector, Scott Ritter, who tried his level best to advise Americans, before the invasion of Iraq, that there were no weapons of mass destruction in that country, but his message was overwhelmed by deceit.

Production Values: The real magician in this film is, of course, Bergman. It was he (and his production team) that produced the cinematic illusion that dazzles us with haunted woods, claustrophobic attics, and ghoulish happenings. The character Vogler was based on Bergman himself, Vergerus represented Swedish film critic Harry Schein, and Manda Vogler was styled after Ingrid Thulman, the actress who played the part. Bergman gives us a rich assortment of well-drawn characters in this film, from the Mephistophelean Vogler, to the still-hopeful Manda, to the distraught Mrs. Egerman, the disdainful Vergerus, the giggling Sara, and the comic Sofia and Tubal. The script is very nicely paced, thanks to some crisp, quick edits, after the slower opening scene in the woods.

Gunnar Fischer's cinematography is highly atmospheric. In one of the early scenes, for example, spindles of light stream through the mist in a Gothic forest. The high-contrast chiaroscuro is superlative. The interior sets were very nicely designed, especially for the attic and kitchen scenes.

For those of you who recognize the lead names in this cast, it goes virtually without saying that the performances were outstanding. One of Bergman's special talents was finding just the right person for each role in a film. It didn't hurt that process that he had an exceptionally talented corps from which to draw. Max von Sydow looks haggard and severe as Vogler. He's barely recognizable until he removes his beard and wig, halfway through the film. Arguably the greatest Swedish actor of all-time, von Sydow also appeared in The Seventh Seal (1957), The Virgin Spring (1959), Through a Glass Darkly (1961), the two part Jan Troell epic The Emigrants (1971) and The New Land (1972), The Exorcist (1973), Never Say Never Again (1983) (in which he played Blofeld), Hannah and Her Sisters (1986), Pelle The Conqueror (1987), and Minority Report (2002). Ingrid Thulin is intriguing in her androgynous get-up and ravishing with her hair down. Her other work has included Wild Strawberries (1957), La Guerre est Finie (1966), The Damned (1969), and Cries and Whispers (1972).

Gunnar Björnstrand is another Bergman regular and a talented actor. He appeared for Bergman in Smiles of a Summer Night (1955), The Seventh Seal (1957), Wild Strawberries (1957), Persona (1966), The Shame (1968), and Face to Face (1976). The gorgeous Bibi Andersson increased my heart rate once again. Her other appearances include The Seventh Seal (1957), Wild Strawberries (1957), Persona (1966), Scenes from a Marriage (1973), and Babette's Feast (1987). Erland Josephson, who played Egerman, later appeared in The Hour of the Wolf (1968), Cries and Whispers (1972), Scenes from a Marriage (1973), Face to Face (1976), Autumn Sonata (1978), Nostalghia (1983), The Sacrifice (1986), and The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1988). Bengt Ekerot, who plays Spegel here, was also "Death" in The Seventh Seal.

Bottom-Line: This is a wonderful film. Thematically, it's not quite so deep and brooding as The Seventh Seal or Wild Strawberries, nor is it as comic as Smiles of a Summer Night, but it combines a strong thematic statement about illusion in the arts with a talented cast, magnificent performances, and rich Gothic atmosphere. I whole-heartedly recommend this film, not as a first Bergman experience, but as a very worthy one. This film is in rich black-and-white, in Swedish with English subtitles, and has a running time of 98 minutes.


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You might want to check out these other excellent films from Sweden:

The Best Intentions
Cries and Whispers
Miss Julie
Persona
Scenes from a Marriage
The Seventh Seal
The Shame
Smiles of a Summer Night
Through a Glass Darkly
Torment
The Virgin Spring
Wild Strawberries

Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: VHS
Video Occasion: Fit for Friday Evening
Suitability For Children: Suitable for Children Age 13 and Older