The Touch

The Touch ★★

Catching up with Bergman 16/20

Elliot: Hi. I'm Elliot Gould. Is this a Bergman movie? It seems I'm in Sweden.

Bibi: Oh, yes hello, we're two Swedish actors who have worked with Ingmar for more than twenty years, let's speak English for a while

E: Okay, um. Here's a line for you, Bibi: I love you

B: You do?

E: Yes

B: I probably love you too

E: That's fine.

B: I mean I'm not sure. I'm pregnant?

E: Sorry, was that a question?

B: No, no. Anyway, I'm uncertain of most things.

Max: I'm Max. Allow me to intrude.

E: Oh, OK. You seem friendly to me.

M: Yes, of course. Right now I'm smiling. But after you screw my wife I shall become very morose. Yes, yes, quite so.

B: Let's put on some music.

*Extremely silly montage music plays*

*Awkward silence between our three stars*

E: You're sure this is a Bergman film?

B: I'm not sure of anything.

E: How about you, Max?

M: Not really.

B: I'm going to take off my clothes now.

M: Lovely.

B: Oh, you'll get used to it.

E: While you do that Bibi, let me insist on us having an affair.

B: Why?

E: As I said, I love you.

B: Well, OK then, I find your affection most convincing. I think I'll decide to sleep with you for a couple of years.

M: I knew it, Elliot. I'm starting to feel bad.

E: Well, what will happen next?

M: I'll just lay here on this couch for a while and feel miserable.

B: I'm not sure, myself. First I go to you, then I'll go to him. We'll be going on like this for some time.

E: Why? Where's it going?

B: Around and around, like a carousel.

E: Sounds like a pretty fucking boring carousel to me.

B: Well, life is hell.

M: Speaking of hell, do you think I should do this old exorcist priest they're offering?

B: What does the role require?

M: Green vomit right in the face.

E: Can't be any worse than this.

M: I'll sleep on it. Night, night.

E: Right, well... Is there a way out of this movie?

B: I don't think so.

E: Can I at least drink?

B: Sure. Help yourself.

*some time later*

E: Well, now I'm really drunk. I know I used to have a beard

B: Some time has passed. A year I think.

E: Where are we now?

B: Still in Sweden

E: Oh man!

M: Zzzzzz

E: I need weed.

B: Sorry, we only drink in this country. It's how we stay properly depressed.

E: But seriously now, come on! This can't be a Bergman movie.

Ingmar Bergman: You're absolutely right.

E: Oh there you are! Skål!

IB: Hehe, yes well, I'm sorry Elliot, it's all a horrible mistake. I shall forget all about this film and pretend it never happened.

E: Well, I'm halfway there, I've already forgotten the title!

IB: It's called The Touch.

E: The touch... of what?

IB: Just The Touch. Don't ask me why, I honestly couldn't come up with a better title. In fact, I already have my mind set on a little something called Cries and Whispers.

B: Yes, you told me about it earlier. Sounds great. Very rewarding.

IB: You won't be in it. I'm going with Liv on this one.

B: (silent and angry)

M: Zzzzzzzzz

B: Can I put my clothes on now?

IB: Yes.

E: No.

B: Thank you.

E: I thought the movie was called The Fucking Touch!