It's certainly easy to become distracted, but the fact is that Playboy magazine have also featured some amazing interviews. This legendary Bergman encounter took place in Stockholm, February, 1964. As is customary in this part of the world, they break the ice with talk about the weather:

Bergman: Well, are you depressed yet?

Playboy: Should we be?

Bergman: Perhaps you haven’t been here long enough. But the depression will come. I don’t know why anybody lives in Stockholm, so far away from everything. When you fly up here from the south, it’s very odd. First there are houses and towns and villages; but farther on there are just woods and forests and more woods and a lake, perhaps, and then still more woods with, just once in a while, a long way off, a house. And then, suddenly, Stockholm. It’s perverse to have a city way up here. And so here we sit, feeling lonely.

The interview can now be enjoyed on Kindle for a few dollars and for free here. I'm sure the interviews with Fellini, Scorsese, Tarantino et al make a good read as well. "Follow the white rabbit", to quote a phrase.

The affinities have been pointed out before, but with Lincoln, Steven Spielberg apparently continues to demonstrate his Bergman influences.

Spielberg's homages to the perhaps unexpected paragon began early on:

His theatrical debut, Duel (1971), in which a gigantic tanker menaces a car driver, features a moment in a gas station when suddenly the image, like the supposedly burning celluloid of Bergman’s Persona, blurs and runs.

And have continued ever since:

Minority Report (2002) opens with a sequence including shots, derived from Bergman’s Wild Strawberries (1957), which contrast foreground and background, light and dark on the two sides of the screen to emphasise a man’s estrangement from his family.

Both exemples cited from Nigel Morris's nice article on the subject.

Picture above: © Dreamworks Pictures.

Toneelgroep ranks among the most dedicated and interesting Bergman interpreters right now. With celebrated stagings of Scenes from a Marriage (2005) and Cries and Whispers (2009) under his belt, Mr. van Hove is now doing something similar as he did with Shakespeare: the lesser known television piece After the Rehearsal and the, well, better known Persona is to be one play. We are eagerly awaiting the result. Première 6 December.

Last week-end, the guild performed “The Seventh Seal” at the 12th Annual Midwinter Madrigal Feast. Wish I'd been there.

At least according to this review.

In case you have £100,000 (give or take) to spare and enjoys a bit of cataloguing, we strongly advise you to buy the lot, form a foundation and join the club.

Anita Björk shot to international fame as the star of Alf Sjöberg's Miss Julie (1951). Her collaboration with Bergman started even earlier, and deepened in their late careers.

Björk's life's work is currently rightly celebrated over the world. Her cooperation with Bergman started early, but her biggest parts for the director came in their late careers.

The principle of the archive: to preserve (or trying to). Thus, and contrary to popular belief, YouTube is not an archive. If a metaphor is to be employed, such gathering and distribution of information could, at best, be likened to a library. Possibly a museum. Most apt, however, would be to compare YouTube to a video store, a commercial outlet of a collection whose content is governed by demand, storage capacity and sheer coincidence. It makes a great pastime, but it’s not how we work.

Cosy up this weekend with a smattering of Bergman-related musical entertainment! Every Saturday, we offer up a new song that relates to Bergman in some interesting manner. Over time, we plan on building up a pretty-little playlist suitable for any occasion, aptly entitled The Original Ingmar Bergman Spotify Playlist. (For more on Bergman and music, click here.)

Satuday song #4 is:

Béla Bártok, Concerto for Orchestra, Introduction
Seattle Symphony Orchestra
Conductor: Gerard Schwartz

Bartók's Concerto for Orchestra served as a well-known source of inspiration for The Silence. 'My original idea was to make a film that should obey musical laws, instead of dramaturgical ones. A film acting by association – rhythmically, with themes and counter-themes. As I was putting it together, I thought much more in musical terms than I'd done before. All that's left of Bartók is the very beginning. It follows Bartók's music rather closely, the dull continuous note, then the sudden explosion.'