Plot Details: This opinion reveals major details about the movie's plot.

“Smiles” is a film that will provide you with some grins and chuckles, but it also brought something of a career-saving smile to Ingmar Bergman’s face, back before virtually anyone in American had even heard of him.

Historical Background: Ingmar Bergman was in dire straights in 1955. Although he had made well over a dozen films since his first as a director in 1945, he had yet to have a single commercially successful one and his last two had bombed. His boss at Svensk Filmindustri firmly believed in Bergman’s talent but there was only so much he could do to insulate Bergman from the economic realities of filmmaking. It didn’t help Bergman’s frame of mind either that his marriage was ending and a significant love affair had been broken off as well. Bergman was near penniless and down to a weight of just 125 pounds. He even thought that his stomach pains were an indication that he was dying of cancer, though the ailment turned out to be less significant and psychosomatic. His producer reluctantly informed him that his next film would be his last one if it did not do well at the box-office. Bergman, reflecting back on that time, stated, “This was a terrible time in my life, and I was extremely depressed.” Bergman worked with a theater group, in those days, seven months out of each year, but they had to support themselves in other ways during the summer, so he had his team of performers for whom to draft a script, if he could muster the willpower. It was either that or suicide! He decided that he would take his chances with a comedy based on one of his previously abandoned ideas about a young man falling in love with his father’s young second wife. He gave the story a turn-of-the-century setting, which provided it with a visual elegance that had been missing in his previously, mostly unsuccessful comedies. He simplified the structure and dialog and suppressed the themes to lesser prominence. Most importantly, he made a concerted effort – his first such effort really – to write a script that would leave people with a good feeling as they exited the theater.

The result was Smiles of a Summer Night (1955). The film not only ended up making a lot of money for the production company, it was recognized at Cannes with an award for Best Poetic Humor. The impoverished Bergman had to borrow the money for plane fare to Cannes from his then lover, Bibi Andersson. “Smiles” was also the first film that brought Bergman to international attention as it made the rounds in the art-house circuit. How important was this film? Without it, we would probably not have any of the great Bergman masterpieces that followed. Bergman later acknowledged that after “the success of Smiles, I’ve never had anybody interfering in my business.” He was immediately able to approach his boss at Svensk Filmindustri and gain approval for his next film, which had been on the shelf – a film that became known as The Seventh Seal.

The Story: Fredrik Egerman (Gunnar Björnstrand) is a successful lawyer in turn-of-the-century Sweden. As his work day winds down, his assistant delivers the two tickets for the theater that Egerman had requested and, in the outer office, comments snidely to another office worker that Mr. Egerman would no doubt be hurrying home so that the son of his former marriage doesn’t delve into the father’s flower bed. Egerman, it seems, has taken a second wife, Anne (Ulla Jacobsson), who is but nineteen even after two years of marriage -- younger than Egerman’s own son, Henrik (Björm Bjelfvenstam).

Arriving home, Fredrik finds Henrik reading poetry to Anne. This might make a man nervous with jealousy were it not for the fact that Henrik is an insecure and inexperienced young man and studying for the clergy. Anne greets her husband with childish enthusiasm, more like a little girl greeting a beloved father returning home from work than a wife. Fredrik has intentionally bought only two theater tickets and suggests to Anne that they nap in order to be rested for the theater. Henrik is unable to mask a look of pained jealousy. In this instance, however, a “nap” truly means only a “nap.” It seems that after two years, Fredrik and Anne have yet to consummate their marriage. The forbearance on Fredrik’s part is apparently motivated by genuine gentleness, consideration, and love for Anne, who he believes views him more as a father figure than a lover.

As they lie together, Fredrik indiscreetly murmurs the name on another woman – “Desirée.” It’s not long before Anne is fully aware of the identity of this Desirée. At the theater, the lead actress, Desirée Armfeldt (Eva Dahlbeck), is greeted enthusiastically by an ovation and tosses a glance or two directly at Fredrik, where he sits beside Anne in their box. The resourceful Anne feigns illness and asks to be taken home immediately.

Returning home early, they discover Henrik sulking over a botched seduction attempt involving the flirtatious maid, Petra (Harriet Andersson). It’s not that the tart Petra put up resistance. On the contrary, the doleful Henrik is a nervous virgin and his equipment chose not to cooperate. Papa surmises what’s transpired and offers what little comfort he can, “One’s first time is always a miserable farce.” He reminds his son not to forget “that love is a perpetual juggling of three balls, the names of which are heart, words, and loins.” It’s easy to drop one or another. Fredrik whispers to Petra that he’ll arrange a raise for her and shuffles off to bed. One time more or less for Petra was really no bother. She had been kind. “Better luck next time,” she had said. Petra is more interested in papa Fredrik anyway: “When he looks at you with his roguish eyes you feel a tingle all over.” Later, however, Petra is not above tormenting the poor conflicted Henrik by exposing her cleavage and telling the lad that he’s “so sweet at one end and so muddled at the other.”

After Anne has fallen asleep, Fredrik sneaks quietly out of the house. He is headed to Desirée’s dressing room. We quickly learn that she was his former lover, between the death of his first wife and his marriage to Anne. He views her as his one real friend in the world and wants to discuss his inability to consummate his marriage. Desirée feels that he used her as an ornament to show off to his bachelor friends, but with no intention of marrying her. She still cares for him, however, and permits him a brief peep show as she bathes. They head back to her place. She has a new lover, a dragoon officer, Count Carl-Magnus Malcolm (Jarl Kulle), a notoriously jealous and violent man, but he’s currently on maneuvers. Desirée warns Fredrik to watch out for the puddle as they pass through her entranceway, but he manages to topple into it anyway, soaking his clothing clean through. Inside, she fixes him up with a nightshirt and bathrobe belonging the Count. Their tête à tête is going nicely enough until suddenly a boy of perhaps four nonchalantly walks through the room, for a nighttime trip to the bathroom. “Who was that?” sputters Fredrik. “What’s his name?” Desirée reveals that he’s a “Fredrik” as well, which sets off alarm bells for big Fredrik. “Is he mine?” he demands. “I wouldn’t have your child,” she replies. “You’re not fit to have a child,” says Fredrick, now furious at the thought that he may have a child in the world of whom he had no previous knowledge. From here, the spat turns from bad to worse. “Finish your toddy and leave,” demands Desirée.

The night is still young, however, and about to take a brutal turn for the worse for dear Fredrik. The doorbell rings and in marches Malcolm, the dragoon, with a flare of trumpets carrying “some humble flowers I managed to pick from a nearby garden.” He’s on an unexpected twenty-hour leave and plans to spend most of it with his lover, saving just a smidgen for his wife. Desirée, still smarting from her spat with Fredrik is pleased to leave him alone with the honor-bound, macho Count. Malcolm surveys Fredrik decked out in his own nightshirt and robe and observes, “I am an extremely jealous man. I openly admit that I do not tolerate pugs, lapdogs, cats or so-called ‘old friends’. Are you fond of dueling?” Fredrik bravely replies, “It’s possible. I’ve never tried.” Malcolm continues in frightening detail, “I have fought eighteen duels: pistols, rapier, foil, spear, bow, poison, rifle.” One wonders how a duel is fought with poison. “I have been wounded six times. Otherwise, fortune has favored me or that ‘cold rage,’ which, according to General Sommer, makes the victorious soldier.” He is speaking, of course, of “ruthlessness.” The Count instructs Fredrik to leave. He may keep the nightshirt with the Count’s blessing but must leave the robe behind. Desirée, who has returned, advises Fredrik to obey. Fredrik pleads for his own wet clothes, but has to tramp home in nothing but the frilly nightshirt.

After threatening Desirée with a poker, the Count is also sent packing by the fiery actress. Back home, the Count somewhat arrogantly seeks consolation from his wife, Countess Charlotte (Margit Carlqvist), as they take target practice together in a makeshift pistol range. He is still angry about Fredrik’s dalliance with Desirée. When Charlotte hints that she might take a lover herself, the Count crudely replies, “My wife may cheat on me but if anyone touches my mistress, I become a tiger!” He orders his wife to visit her friend Anne to advise her about her husband’s infidelity. Charlotte delivers her malicious gossip with the dapper tongue of an honest little rattlesnake but Anne parries smartly, reminding Charlotte that it is well-known that her own husband is Desirée’s lover. Charlotte bursts into a venomous soliloquy about how much she hates her husband and his constant bragging about his horses, his women, and his duels. In fact, she hates all men, what with all that hair all over their bodies.

Even the most casual viewer, at this point in the film, will have noted that nobody in this group of clowns is properly paired up. It is Desirée who takes it upon herself to correct the misalignments. She visits her widowed mother, Madame Armfeldt (Naima Wifstrand), a spicy and irreverent woman despite her age, to request that they throw a party at their large country estate on Midsummer Night – an night of traditional revelry and debauchery for all Scandinavians. The intent is to reclaim Fredrick for herself. Mama complains, “You have too much character. You got that from your father.” Desirée retorts icily, “Which one, I have several to choose from!” The event is duly scheduled and the guests arrive, even the hired help such as Petra and Frid (Åke Fridell), the groom of the stable and liveryman. Frid and Petra represent the earthy servant class, comfortable with their lusts and sexuality, in contrast to the upper class folk who have to dance around their passions to find their way to their heart’s desires.

I won’t reveal how the relationships are reconstructed as they ought to be, except that I must describe the magnificent mechanical bed that plays a part in bringing two of the lovers into alignment. It seems that the King and one of his ministers had sometimes stayed in Madame Armfeldt’s country estate, in adjoining rooms. The King was intent of seducing the minister’s beautiful young wife without the man’s knowledge and when you have the resources of a King, anything is possible. He had arranged for a special secret device to be built into the wall separating the two rooms. After the minister was asleep, the King would press a button in his own room to activate the mechanism. The wall would open up and the bed with the minister’s wife would silently slide through into the King’s room. The wall would then close and a small cuckoo would appear and chirp, signaling the minister’s imminent cuckoldry. Poor, angst-ridden Henrik has been assigned to this room and, attempting suicide, his noose slips and he falls into the button, accidentally delivering his heart’s desire. “I must have died after all,” he says.

Themes: Although most film-lovers don’t associate Bergman with comedy, this bedroom farce does at least come complete with the patented Bergman dark brooding and cynicism. It’s a witty romp but with real poetic weight behind it. By Bergman’s reckoning, philandering is the essence of maleness and marriages nothing more than contracts that bind the sexes into eternal banal boredom. We get to watch men and women loving each other and betraying each other, revealing mankind’s essential deficiency of character and willpower. Desirée has gone from one affair to another and has no father for her child, the Count cheats on his wife contemptuously, Fredrik wants to recommence his affair with Desirée, and Henrik lusts after his step-mother. The only genuine love that most of us experience, by Bergman’s account, is self-love: “A young man loves always,” says Fredrik, adding ironically, “himself.” Later, when Fredrik recognizes that he has been duly snared by Desirée, who demands to know if he will be faithful, he says, “I shall be faithful for at least seven eternities of pleasure, eighteen false smiles, and fifty-seven tender whisperings without meaning. I shall remain faithful until the great yawn do us part. In short, I shall remain faithful in my own way.”

The only characters in this story with any hint of ideals in relation to love and faithfulness, Anne and Henrik, are pitiable creatures indeed, neither able to satisfy their sexual urges. They exist in some bleak and frightful twilight zone of unwanted virginity. Henrik spouts his Lutheran ideals and despises the vice that he spies all around him, yet is driven nearly to suicide by the conflict between his piety and his libido. The happiest characters, on the other hand, are the servants, Petra and Frid, who are comfortable with lusty sexuality. There’s an upstairs/downstairs kind of distinction at work here. It takes the debauchery of a Midsummer Night on a country estate to set things right and create a sense of renewal for the folks of the upper class. Summertime in Scandinavia is a brief two months and therefore must be lived passionately. All the pent up desires of the cold Januaries must be let loose on those precious midsummer nights. Bergman once said that the only absolutes in life are the desire of the flesh and the incurable loneliness of the soul.

For a film from the fifties, Smiles of a Summer Night tackles issues rarely broached by the Hollywood films of that era, such as single motherhood, infidelities, and premarital sex. It was also ahead of its time in liberating women from Victorian notions of chastity. We are left wondering in this film just whom is seducing whom, since it is the women who take the bull by the horns, so to speak, and straighten out the muddled situation. The men are mostly being led around by their you-know-what’s. The female characters are pulling the . . . . . strings.

It is the lusty Frid who is, in a sense, the title character of the film. It is he who observes, near the end, “The summer night is smiling. The summer night has three smiles.” What are they? The first, says Frid, is “between midnight and dawn, when young lovers open their hearts and loins.” The first smile is, therefore, “lust and romance.” “Now follows the second smile of a summer night,” he adds later. “For jesters, the fools and the incorrigible.” The cock crows signaling cuckoldry and Count Malcolm, out of jealous rage, forces a game of Russian roulette on Fredrik. The second smile is the green monster – “jealousy.” Frid, who has had his way with Petra, during the night, now finds himself pinned to the ground, his ears being tweaked until he agrees to marry her. “And the summer night smiled for the third time,” says he. “Oh, yes, my little sugar plum. For the sad and dejected, for the sleepless and lost souls, for the frightened and the lonely.” The third smile is “marriage.” Marriage, according to Bergman, exists only to spare the weak-minded from the pangs of jealousy. When the summer is just two months long, romance, jealousy, and its relief through marriage must all transpire in rapid succession.

Production Values: Smiles of a Summer Night is very successful as comedy – delightful and whimsical. It is reminiscent of French farce but with that underlying Bergman touch of somber cynicism. This is humor more barbed than frolicsome. The humor derives most especially from the clever, witty, and sometimes sarcastic dialog, but also from the absurdity of some of the situations, such as Fredrik being forced to traipse home in a nightshirt and the mechanical bed accidentally bringing two lovers together. Bergman, in his commentary, states that he is amazed today, looking at this film, that it looks so cheerful despite having been produced under miserable conditions. That cheerfulness is partly attributable to a brilliantly buoyant script. The characters are delightful and symbolism abounds, such as repeated use of mechanical clocks to suggest that the characters are being led around mechanically by their libidos.

Long-time Bergman collaborator Gunnar Fischer provided the cinematography. Bergman had just two cinematographers in his career. Fischer did all of Bergman’s early films but when he and Bergman had a falling out, Bergman turned to Sven Nykvist. This film is gorgeous high-contrast black-and-white photography and is as pleasing to look at as any that you’ll put up on your television. The cinematography is also used skillfully to build tension through the device of repeated eavesdropping – from windows, doorways, and stage wings, for example. There are the usual Bergman extended close-ups of faces and highly effective use of lighting. The Criterion DVD is a full-frame presentations, as it was intended to be.

The cast for this film includes many of the elite Bergman associates. Gunner Björnstrand is specially decked out in a devilishly shaped beard that looks like a stage mask, suggesting the notion of “persona” that Bergman was to milk in many films. Björnstrand's other work includes The Seventh Seal (1957), Wild Strawberries (1957), Persona (1966), The Shame (1968), and Face to Face (1976). His performance here in Smiles of a Summer Night is one of his best. Eva Dahlbeck, who played Desirée, had already established some chemistry with Björnstrand because the two had previously co-starred in Bergman’s Secrets of Women (1952).

Ulla Jacobsson was effective as Anne. She later worked in Zulu (1964). Björm Bjelfvenstam, who played Henrik, had already worked with Bergman in Secrets of Women (1952) and later appeared in Wild Strawberries (1957). Jarl Kulle provided a classically sinister rendition as the Count. His resume also includes Secrets of Women (1952), Fanny and Alexander (1982), and Babette’s Feast (1987). The incomparable Harriet Andersson often angered Bergman with her independent streak, but it contributed to the brilliance of her performances, not only here, but in such films as Through a Glass Darkly (1961), The Deadly Affair (1966), and Cries and Whispers (1972). Her opposite number, Frid, was played by Åke Fridell, who later appeared in The Seventh Seal (1957). Åke and Harriet together provided the lustiest of the humor.

Bottom-Line: Smiles of a Summer Night served as inspiration for Woody Allen’s A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy as well as Stephen Sondheim’s A Little Night Music. Besides the Cannes award for Best Poetic Humor, this finely crafted film won the Danish Bodil Award for Best European Film and was nominated for Best Film, Best Actor (Björnstrand), and Best Actress (Dahlbeck) at the British Academy Awards. This is one of the very best bedroom farces you’ll ever see.

The Criterion DVD version of Smiles of a Summer Night has a nice assortment of extras. There’s a short introduction to the film by Bergman himself and a fourteen-minute dialog between Bergman scholar Peter Crowis and the producer of Bergman’s last feature film, Fanny and Alexander, Jörn Donner. Both are informative and I’ve used bits and pieces of the information from those features in this review. There is also the Swedish trailer but no commentary track. Smiles of a Summer Night is in Swedish with English subtitles and has a running time of 108 minutes.


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

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

Recommended: Yes

Viewing Format: DVD
Video Occasion: Fit for Friday Evening
Suitability For Children: Not suitable for Children of any age