in true TCP fashion, we are late to commemorate the passing of revered swedish director ingmar bergman. we have no one to blame but kapil. for some real insight, listen to woody allen's musings on the subject.
to do our part we watched bergman's wild strawberries. over an entire day in the twilight years of an accomplished doctor, Isak Borg (above, toasting), we get a glimpse of how scary impending death can be: nightmares in the daytime, a lifetime's worth of horrible memories that pop-up without asking, youngsters vocalizing how terrible getting old must be while you butter your croissant. being old and lonely doesn't get easier if your son is a prick, your daughter in-law openly dislikes you, and your maid of the past 40 years refuses to call you by anything but Professor.
notables: the ill use of lighting; witnessing the worst couple of all time; a trio of teens who are so damn stylish, despite the fact that this was made over 50 years ago; Isak's virtually immortal mother's swedish articulation; oh, and the final sequence.