SAMUELS: Mr. Bergman, I'd like to s

SAMUELS: Mr. Bergman, I'd like to start with a rather general question: If I were asked to cite a single reason for your preeminence among film directors, I would point to your creation of a special world–the sort of thing we are accustomed to with great creative figures in the other arts, but rarely in film, and never to your degree. You are, in fact, very much like a writer. Why didn't you become one?

BERGMAN: When I was a child, I suffered from an almost complete lack of words. My education was very rigid; my father was a priest. As a result, I lived in a private world of my own dreams. I played with my puppet theatre.

SAMUELS: And–

BERGMAN: Excuse me. I had very few contacts with reality or channels to it. I was afraid of my father, my mother, my elder brother–everything. Playing with this puppet theatre and a projection device I had was my only form of self-expression. I had great difficulty with fiction and reality; as a small child I mixed them so much that my family always said I was a liar. Even when I grew up, I felt blocked. I had enormous difficulty speaking to others and–

SAMUELS: I want to interrupt you for just a moment. This description of your childhood resembles one classic description of the genesis of a writer. Was it only the accident of the puppet theatre that sent you the way of theatre rather than of books?

BERGMAN: No. I remember that during my eighteenth summer, when I had just finished school, suddenly I wrote a novel. And in school, when we had to write compositions, I liked it very much. But I never felt that writing was my cup of tea. I put the novel in my desk and forgot it. But in 1940, suddenly–in the summer–I started writing and wrote twelve–

SAMUELS: Plays.

BERGMAN: Yes. It was a sudden eruption.

SAMUELS: May I offer an hypothesis about this so that you can react to it? Your skill as a writer and your need to express yourself in words are fulfilled more in the theatre and cinema because in these arts one also embodies his words and even sees the audience's response to them.

BERGMAN: My beginning was otherwise, because when I began writing, I was suspicious of words. And I always lacked words; it has always been very difficult for me to find the word I want.

SAMUELS: Is this suspicion of words one of the reasons why Alma makes Elisabeth say "nothing" in Persona?

BERGMAN: No. Yes. In a way. But that wasn't conscious on my part.

SAMUELS: Because "nothing" is the truest word, one that asserts least.

BERGMAN: I don't know. I have always felt suspicious both of what I say and of what others say to me. Always I feel something has been left out. When I read a book, I read very slowly. It takes a lot of time for me to read a play.

SAMUELS: Do you direct it in your head?

BERGMAN: In a way. I have to translate the words into speeches, movements, flesh and blood. I have an enormous need for contact with an audience, with other people. For me, words are not satisfying.

SAMUELS: With a book, the reader is elsewhere.

BERGMAN: When you read, words have to pass through your conscious mind to reach your emotions and your soul. In film and theatre, things go directly to the emotions. What I need is to come in contact with others.

SAMUELS: I see that, but it raises a problem I'm sure you've often discussed. Your films have emotional impact, but since they are also the most intellectually difficult of contemporary films, isn't there sometimes a contradiction between the two effects?

Результаты (русский) 1:

СЭМЮЭЛС: Г-н Бергман, я хотел бы начать с довольно общий вопрос: если мне было предложено привести единственная причина вашего preeminence среди режиссеров, я хотел бы отметить Ваше творение специального мира – такие вещи, мы привыкли к с большим творческим фигурами в других искусствах, но редко в фильме и никогда не степени. Ты, на самом деле, очень много как писатель. Почему вы не стали одним? БЕРГМАН: Когда я был ребенком, я страдал от почти полное отсутствие слов. Мое образование является очень жесткой; Мой отец был священником. В результате я жил в частный мир моей мечты. Я играл с моим кукольный театр. СЭМЮЭЛС: И – БЕРГМАН: Извините меня. Я имел очень мало контактов с реальностью или каналы к нему. Я боялся моего отца, моя мать, мой старший брат – все. Играя с кукольного театра и проекции устройство, которое я была моя единственная форма самовыражения. Я имел большие трудности с вымыслом и реальностью; как маленький ребенок я смешал их так много, что моя семья всегда говорил, что я был лгуном. Даже когда я вырос, я чувствовал заблокирован. Я имел огромные трудности, обращаясь к другим и – СЭМЮЭЛС: хочу прервать вас на мгновение. Это описание вашего детства напоминает один классический описание генезиса писателя. Было ли это только авария кукольного театра, который послал вас путь театра, а не из книг? BERGMAN: No. I remember that during my eighteenth summer, when I had just finished school, suddenly I wrote a novel. And in school, when we had to write compositions, I liked it very much. But I never felt that writing was my cup of tea. I put the novel in my desk and forgot it. But in 1940, suddenly–in the summer–I started writing and wrote twelve– SAMUELS: Plays. BERGMAN: Yes. It was a sudden eruption. SAMUELS: May I offer an hypothesis about this so that you can react to it? Your skill as a writer and your need to express yourself in words are fulfilled more in the theatre and cinema because in these arts one also embodies his words and even sees the audience's response to them. BERGMAN: My beginning was otherwise, because when I began writing, I was suspicious of words. And I always lacked words; it has always been very difficult for me to find the word I want. SAMUELS: Is this suspicion of words one of the reasons why Alma makes Elisabeth say "nothing" in Persona? BERGMAN: No. Yes. In a way. But that wasn't conscious on my part. SAMUELS: Because "nothing" is the truest word, one that asserts least. BERGMAN: I don't know. I have always felt suspicious both of what I say and of what others say to me. Always I feel something has been left out. When I read a book, I read very slowly. It takes a lot of time for me to read a play. SAMUELS: Do you direct it in your head? BERGMAN: In a way. I have to translate the words into speeches, movements, flesh and blood. I have an enormous need for contact with an audience, with other people. For me, words are not satisfying. SAMUELS: With a book, the reader is elsewhere. BERGMAN: When you read, words have to pass through your conscious mind to reach your emotions and your soul. In film and theatre, things go directly to the emotions. What I need is to come in contact with others. SAMUELS: I see that, but it raises a problem I'm sure you've often discussed. Your films have emotional impact, but since they are also the most intellectually difficult of contemporary films, isn't there sometimes a contradiction between the two effects?