A Ballerina No More

Breaking out of the traditional mould of romantic relationships may be liberating and healthy but there's some weight in the opposing argument, too. Arguments about the drawbacks are artfully illustrated in Ingmar Bergman's 1949 film Thirst (Törst). Obviously more conservative than his later films, which are really too complex to be tethered to any political ideology, it's of course still way too daring for American audiences of the time. Even at this stage, though, Bergman was too interested in real human behaviour to allow his work to become simplistic propaganda.

I was watching an episode of The Boys last night but I had to stop because sometimes that show just turns into really cynical, mean-spirited propaganda. The show isn't bad when it just focuses on characters, but gets unbearable when someone working on the show gets nervous that we might not be thinking of American conservatives as secret Nazis. When I've had too much of that kind of thing, Bergman is one of the sources I turn to as respite. I'm fortunate there's still a few Bergman movies I haven't seen. I didn't expect Thirst to have any ideological influence.

But Bergman has a much surer hand, even in 1949, so when a woman is nearly seduced by a lesbian in one scene, you'd have to really force an interpretation of the lesbian as a negative character. Valburg (Mimi Nelson) is almost sympathetic, certainly she's beautifully shot.

And one suspects Viola (Birgit Tengroth, who wrote the short story the film is based on) would have been a lot better off if she'd accepted Valborg's invitation to dance.

But the film primarily focuses on Rut (Eva Henning), to whom we're introduced in the first scene, impatiently pacing a hot hotel room while her lover, Bertil (Birger Malmsten), sleeps.

Flashbacks start to appear as though we're witnessing memories that haunt her. She used to be a ballerina before her first lover, Raoul (Bengt Eklund), forced her to get an abortion that permanently damaged her health.

In the early days of her romance with Raoul, Rut is an innocent young virgin. In the present, as Bertil's lover, she's prone to erratic mood swings, to being strangely clingy with a child who peeks in on their train car--all but forcing chocolate on the child--to suddenly screaming in the middle of the night because Bertil won't wake up to have sex with her. Maybe the idea here is that this is what happens when a young person is corrupted by loose living. But Bergman's direction and the performances from the actors make it real enough for this person that it's pleasantly easy to forget about any political motive.

Thirst is available on The Criterion Channel.