Lying beneath the arches and mosaics of the moderately decorated architecture, the dusty half empty pews, and the flooded natural sun leaking down over the congregation is a clandestine struggle quietly waging war within us. In a Bergman film, this is merely setting the stage.

Winter Light is an example of a perfect film at least in the Bergman vocabulary sense. For a film designed almost in a theatrical concept for its minimalism, it remains largely cinematic and achieves a great deal over the course of a hour in real time and only an afternoon in film time. In the space between morning congregation and afternoon ceremonies, the lives of a small group of individuals is tested in the most…

I am going to ramble until I make sense of my thoughts on this:

It is no coincidence, I think, that the one person in this film to have a deeper understanding of Jesus and his own faith does so through open compassion. Algot, who is apparently physically disabled, dismisses the physical pain of Jesus in favor of the spiritual and emotional pain of being abandoned, citing it as the more severe form of pain suffered during the Passion. His insight into Jesus' suffering is in contrast to the faithless and broken Tomas, who has failed (in a manner that is, to me, a personally devastating manner) to reach out with compassion to anyone (in the course of the film).…

"I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing." (John 15:5)

Second part of the auteur's trilogy dealing with man's relationship with God. It is literally impossible to relate with this masterpiece's protagonist unless you are a son of God. "But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name." (John 1:12)

What is so absolutely accurate and brilliant about the movie is the fact that it states how agnostics, atheists, etc. lose their credibility in God based on the actions of humans, not…

Bergman takes a poignant and disturbing look into faith, regret and our own existentiality in this superbly acted piece. Gunnar Bjornstrand plays the disillusioned priest. Having lost his wife and now God, we follow him as he comes to terms with the futility of his faith and his struggle with the 'Silence of God.'

Everyone delivers a show stopping performance here, the subtleties in facial expressions and gestures are so organic at times that it's unnerving. Ingrid Thulin's fourth wall breaking monologue is particularly brilliant, and equally discomforting.

I can't get over how beautifully shot this picture is. Sven Nykvist masterfully frames characters around one another with great percision and depth. Not every shot is flashy, but such a bleak…