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"A comedy for grown-ups" depends on the outcome, announce the opening credits, the tragedy it can easily become is still three decades away, Scenes from a Marriage. The doctor "always looking at women from odd angles" (Gunnar Björnstrand), fighting for his right to be a bore before the temptation of the mistress (Yvonne Lombard). Wild Strawberries is gently anticipated, remembrances on the way to Copenhagen, he and his wife (Eva Dahlbeck) like strangers on a train. Their daughter (Harriet Andersson) is the tomboy with a dachshund, the other man (Åke Grönberg) is a burly bohemian and Welles caricature. "The harmonious marriage that's passed on from good health," Ingmar Bergman gives it a good screwball shake. McCarey's The Awful Truth and no mistake, definitely Lubitsch's The Marriage Circle, also Dassin's Young Ideas for the pie-eyed epiphany at the jazzy dive. Music-box figurines and lightning bolts, spouses and lovers in swiftly roving arrangements. Sharpshooters in love: "The conjugal bed is love's demise," says he, her riposte imagines their union as "a strangled grimace that ends in a yawn." The harmonious interlude fondly recalled is a trip to the country, where grandpa (Olof Winnerstrand) sabotages the family jalopy in order to ditch his own birthday picnic. The suicidal noose brings down the house, the interrupted wedding showcases Dahlbeck's bravura enjoyment of the shift from refined lady to knockabout comedienne with exposed thigh and messy mane. Battle of the sexes, "a pastime for baboons," Cupid cameo and all. It's all sorted out at the jumpin' joint, with Björnstrand's inner John Barrymore unchained by a sip of the house specialty, "the Galloping Volcano." "And you call yourself a gynecologist," cf. Altman's Dr. T. and the Women. With Birgitte Reimer, John Elfström, Renée Björling, Dagmar Ebbesen, and Sigge Fürst. In black and white.
--- Fernando F. Croce |