When our Nightmares Come to us: The Hour of the Wolf

1968, Directed and written by Ingmar Bergman. Swedish with english subtitles.

“The time when most people die, and most people are born”

Whenever someone writes something, creates something either on the page on the canvas, it is a reflection of themselves, of what they think they are, what they hope they are, and what they fear they are. As Albert Camus said, “every work of art is a confession” . The question that Bergman’s film asks is, what kind of confession is that? And how “real” can those confessions become.

The film starts with a direct address to the camera, as if we were having a conversation with Alma, the wife of a painter who’s disappeared. It is implied that she is the one retelling the story. Johan, the artist, is an insomniac who is having trouble, a case of painter’s bloc I presume. One angry night, he begins to show Alma a series of sketches or something of particularly disturbing figures, however we never see them. We can only guess what they looked like by the shocked look on Alma’s faces, as he angrily flips to another page. These sketches and the figures in them, begin to seep into the reality of both Alma and Johan’s lives, as they are visited by them. Slowly, Johan’s former obsession with another women drive him to the brink of insanity.

Art is literally a confession in this film, as one of the visitors tells Alma to read Johan’s diary, which acts as a window into just how disturbed his mind is. Art is a major theme in this film, both on the nature of the creation, the role of the artist and the psychology of creativity. This idea of an artist’s creation coming to life isn’t new. It seems to be a common fear or idea, Stephen King does it, Stranger than Fiction is all about it, Woody Allen does it more than once etc. Is creativity just a form of schizophrenia? To blur the line between unreal and real, to create something unreal drawn from the real seems to have at least some affinity with madness. This film makes this all too clear, as his creations, as vile as they are, know everything about him, art becomes like shards of him, reflections from a broken mirror. Johan refers to them as Cannibals. They never eat human flesh on screen, they feed off of him, they devour his mind, his soul. They even mock him, as Johan gives a sort of mini speech in which he declares that although megalomania has “licked his forehead” he is immune to it. To this, the Cannibals give him a round of applause, praising him which he takes in strides. The irony of this scene is not only blatantly obvious, but eerie, as if they knew he would not be able to resist this sort of flattery.

The film is straight up European art cinema, which isn’t surprising if you are familiar with Bergman’s work. If you’re new to the art cinema, this isn’t the film to start with. Although it is not totally without a plot, it will be confusing. Mainstream films, especially today, are very topical, they are about something and we are going to watch this unfold and learn about whatever that something is. Of course, this film is about something, but what that is, isn’t clear, and is left to be pried out and digested by the viewer. The best way to enjoy this film and others like it, is to try not to rationalize every image and line in the film. Instead, absorb the images, let them sink, let them invoke emotions. Then later, think about it, let it sit in your mind and cook there for a bit, dream on it as it were. This films are not meant to be chewed and spat out, but discussed, pondered and examined.

Visual, this film is a real gem. It alternates between darkly shadows that eay away at the corners of the screen and at the character’s faces. And when Johan “confesses”, the film is overexposed, making the film almost uncomfortably bright, as if a long repressed truth is now being brought into the light, squinting. The imagery has un-stable quality to it, jumps not only in the pace of the film but also in terms of overall mood make this film unpredictable. Situations become increasingly more and more nightmarish, as Johan crosses the border into insanity. Compared to say Seventh Seal, the film is a lot more visual shocking, with creepy make-up and camera tricks. What really steals the show is the sound. Sound is de-familiarized, meaning it’s only slightly altered to give it an unreal tinge to it. At particular intense moments, the dialogue cuts up, giving way to sometimes incredibly tense and edgy music, a rhythmic sound which makes you sit at the edge of your seat (I know this is a clique, but by God it’s true!).

If you’re a fan of Bergman’s work, then this is a must see. If you like art films, then again you got to see this thing. If you’re that special kind of horror fan (you know you are) who likes stuff like Eraserhead, give this a whirl.