Countless are those films I've watched of every variety, and strangely, I don't recall ever before having difficulty with aspects of a film's narrative as I did here. Part of it is the structure, for the plot in these three hours is imparted to no small degree through flashbacks within flashbacks. Just as much to the point, especially in the first half, characters and story threads are introduced left and right without immediate connection to each other; furthermore, just as with much more recent titles like Tim Blake Nelson's 'Anesthesia' or Paul Haggis' 'Crash,' all these ideas rise and recede in the storytelling until they gradually converge around some manner of focus. And yet it's not just about the structure, for each facet of the plot revolves in its own way around a confluence of (a) Wealth, Society, Propriety, and Class; (b) people being roundly awful to one another, largely through the hypocrisy of heavily emphasizing others' flaws while hiding their own, and generally without ever getting called out on it; and (c) the absolute devaluation of women except as property, and wives wholly subject to the whims of men - more than still remains infuriatingly true in 2024. Never before, to the best of my recollection, have I ever watched another film in which the expression of deeply antiquated and therefore regressive values made it difficult for me to any extent to grasp the tale on hand, but even I have found parts of 'The saga of Gösta Berling' hard to parse.
Granted, these are not specifically flaws. They aren't flaws at all, in fact, and seeing as how, among many thousands of other flicks I've enjoyed, this is the first time such matters have struck me, I think the incidence here is pure happenstance. In the same way that one person might touch two blankets made through the same process, and with the same material, but find one more comfortable than the other, I'm inclined to believe there's simply some intangible quality about this 1924 classic that just puts it on a different wavelength from me. I'm sure of it, in fact, because beyond such splitting of hairs, this epic drama is altogether outstanding. After a fashion I'm reminded of Sergei Eisenstein's 'Ivan the Terrible,' where in my opinion the storytelling was distinctly more sure-footed in the second part. Indeed, should one have taken any issue with the narrative structure in Part I of 'Gösta Berling,' all the characters and threads are drawn together within Part II as events come to a head. Scrutinize the particulars as we may, the sum total is dreary, and often tragic, but ultimately strongly absorbing, compelling, and satisfying. Dark as the saga gets at various points there is just enough of a sense of dynamics to keep the proceedings fresh, and at select times, meaningful airs of tension and suspense help propel the drama. Working from Selma Lagerlöf's novel, scribe Ragnar Hyltén-Cavallius and filmmaker Mauritz Stiller give us gratifyingly complex characters and incredibly robust scene writing, and at length the many strengths of the picture handily outweigh any subjective weaknesses.
Those strengths further include gorgeous sets and beautiful filming locations, and costume design, hair, and makeup that are truly just as lovely and carefully considered. Where stunts and effects are employed, notably with major sequences in the second half, they are genuinely impressive and surely bring to mind various points of comparison from one viewer to the next. While the contribution of esteemed cinematographer Julius Jaenzon doesn't always specifically stand out in this instance, there are plentiful moments where his keen eye really does provide smart, superb vision that lends considerably to the tableau. It also must surely be said that the cast is terrific, all doing their part in turn to bring the dour drama to bear with admirable nuance and emotional depth. Lars Hanson obviously stands out most as the titular figure, and Greta Garbo both for her growing fame and for her prominent supporting part, but at one time or another every actor herein has their time to shine. Among others, I'm especially pleased with the tent pole performance of Gerda Lundequist as Margaretha; it's a part of importance arguably second only to Hanson's, and furthermore a part that requires significant range, and Lundequist navigates it with grace and ease. Really, unless one has some inexplicable hang-up about this or that, as I did at the outset, there is no abject trouble with 'The saga of Gösta Berling' in any manner, and it's a superb, engrossing classic. Case in point, as composer Matti Bye provided a new score for the commonly available restoration of more recent years, it's worth observing just how fantastic that score is. Some portions of the music are more noteworthy than others, but one way or another Bye very ably complements the mood at any given time, and at its best his work is outright marvelous in how it bolsters the narrative.
When you get down to it I don't think there's any disputing the overall worth of this feature, and any variation in our reaction to it is one strictly of personal preference or perception. Maybe with a second viewing all my initial misgivings would evaporate; it wouldn't be the first time that has happened. Regardless, when all is said and done this movie remains an upstanding treasure even after so many decades, and anyone who appreciates older cinema would be remiss not to check it out given the opportunity. Marked by excellent writing, direction, acting, and craftsmanship, it's only our own perspectives as viewers that might in any way take away from everything that 'The saga of Gösta Berling' is, and I'm pleased to give it my solid recommendation. The runtime may be prohibitive, but if you're receptive to the silent era, carving out some time for this is well worth it.
Granted, these are not specifically flaws. They aren't flaws at all, in fact, and seeing as how, among many thousands of other flicks I've enjoyed, this is the first time such matters have struck me, I think the incidence here is pure happenstance. In the same way that one person might touch two blankets made through the same process, and with the same material, but find one more comfortable than the other, I'm inclined to believe there's simply some intangible quality about this 1924 classic that just puts it on a different wavelength from me. I'm sure of it, in fact, because beyond such splitting of hairs, this epic drama is altogether outstanding. After a fashion I'm reminded of Sergei Eisenstein's 'Ivan the Terrible,' where in my opinion the storytelling was distinctly more sure-footed in the second part. Indeed, should one have taken any issue with the narrative structure in Part I of 'Gösta Berling,' all the characters and threads are drawn together within Part II as events come to a head. Scrutinize the particulars as we may, the sum total is dreary, and often tragic, but ultimately strongly absorbing, compelling, and satisfying. Dark as the saga gets at various points there is just enough of a sense of dynamics to keep the proceedings fresh, and at select times, meaningful airs of tension and suspense help propel the drama. Working from Selma Lagerlöf's novel, scribe Ragnar Hyltén-Cavallius and filmmaker Mauritz Stiller give us gratifyingly complex characters and incredibly robust scene writing, and at length the many strengths of the picture handily outweigh any subjective weaknesses.
Those strengths further include gorgeous sets and beautiful filming locations, and costume design, hair, and makeup that are truly just as lovely and carefully considered. Where stunts and effects are employed, notably with major sequences in the second half, they are genuinely impressive and surely bring to mind various points of comparison from one viewer to the next. While the contribution of esteemed cinematographer Julius Jaenzon doesn't always specifically stand out in this instance, there are plentiful moments where his keen eye really does provide smart, superb vision that lends considerably to the tableau. It also must surely be said that the cast is terrific, all doing their part in turn to bring the dour drama to bear with admirable nuance and emotional depth. Lars Hanson obviously stands out most as the titular figure, and Greta Garbo both for her growing fame and for her prominent supporting part, but at one time or another every actor herein has their time to shine. Among others, I'm especially pleased with the tent pole performance of Gerda Lundequist as Margaretha; it's a part of importance arguably second only to Hanson's, and furthermore a part that requires significant range, and Lundequist navigates it with grace and ease. Really, unless one has some inexplicable hang-up about this or that, as I did at the outset, there is no abject trouble with 'The saga of Gösta Berling' in any manner, and it's a superb, engrossing classic. Case in point, as composer Matti Bye provided a new score for the commonly available restoration of more recent years, it's worth observing just how fantastic that score is. Some portions of the music are more noteworthy than others, but one way or another Bye very ably complements the mood at any given time, and at its best his work is outright marvelous in how it bolsters the narrative.
When you get down to it I don't think there's any disputing the overall worth of this feature, and any variation in our reaction to it is one strictly of personal preference or perception. Maybe with a second viewing all my initial misgivings would evaporate; it wouldn't be the first time that has happened. Regardless, when all is said and done this movie remains an upstanding treasure even after so many decades, and anyone who appreciates older cinema would be remiss not to check it out given the opportunity. Marked by excellent writing, direction, acting, and craftsmanship, it's only our own perspectives as viewers that might in any way take away from everything that 'The saga of Gösta Berling' is, and I'm pleased to give it my solid recommendation. The runtime may be prohibitive, but if you're receptive to the silent era, carving out some time for this is well worth it.