
From 2003:
When I was young, Wild Strawberries struck me as exactly what old age must be like. (Had it been a novel, I would have scribbled neatly in the margin of the last page, "This is true.") Now that I'm middle-aged--and eight years older than Bergman was when he made it--I know better. It's far too benign, albeit gorgeously so. It reminds me of what an old music critic once said to me about Der Rosenkavalier: "It's by a young man pretending to be an old man remembering his youth."...
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Published on December 10, 2012 21:00