Cries and Whispers

Ingmar Bergman has a way of making me despair with an intensity I can't even begin to verbalise. Yet I watch his movies, thriving in that very fear, pain, sadness and madness that his cameras capture so beautifully. Sometimes, I feel almost shameful that I watch his movies just to be disturbed by them. Yet, when I realise that his work moves so many people, I realise I am not the only mad person who revels in the misery and feels the futility of human existence and search for meaning in this mad, meaningless world.
Today, alone at home, I watched Cries and Whispers. I think it is about suffering, death, faith(and the lack of), love(and the lack of) and the human condition. It depicts this by portraying so beautifully, the relationship between three sisters, one of whom is in her deathbed of their childhood home, cared for by a maid named Anna. Her two sisters come to stay with her in her last days.
Agnes is the sister who is in her deathbed. She suffers intense physical pain and visible agony. The other two sisters, Karin and Maria, on the other hand, suffer silently. They live what is apparently a very normal life, but are infinitely unhappy, indifferent and cynical; having lost faith in god and the ability to love. Anna, the maid, is one person who still is capable of some love. Incidentally, she is also the only one who has some faith. Even the pastor's eyes at the funeral were filled with doubt.
How does Bergman portray misery the way he does. You wonder if he searches for it, pins it down, magnifies it and captures it in his camera? But in the end, he leaves you feeling like he really didn't have to "search" for misery. It is just there. EVERYWHERE.
At the end of the movie, Bergman shows Anna reading out of Agnes' diary after the two sisters and their husbands quite coldly, leave Anna home alone :
Wednesday 3 Sept. "The air is cold with the approaching autumn. It is mild and nice. My sisters Karin and Maria have come to see me. It is lovely to be together again like the old days. I am feeling much better too, like the old days. We even went for a short walk. It was such an event. Especially for me, who hadn't been out of doors for so long. Suddenly we all ran, laughing to the old swing. We sat in it - three good little sisters. Anna rocked us, slowly and gently. All my pain was gone. The people I am most fond of were with me. I heard them chatting. I felt the presence of their bodies and the warmth of their hands. I wanted the moment to stay and I thought: This really is happiness. I couldn't wish for anything better. Now, for a few minutes, I can experience consummation. And I feel so deeply grateful to life which gives me so much."
... And so the cries and whispers die away.
God, it makes me cry out with pain. Look at how subtly he brings out the irony of life! Do you see, the integral experience of the collective human body and mind - its consciousness, subconsciousness and everything else that is unknown, is what Bergman is trying to portray?

I watched the movie knowing what his movies can do to me. And he does exactly that. And worse. Each time. Then you admire the beauty of his art. In this case, the reds. The close ups. The misery only he can bring out. The silence. Minimal, yet powerful exchange of words. You get so immersed in the misery, it becomes yours. But that is exactly what you want and what it is about. That misery is everywhere. If misery is not there or at least not supposed to be there according to all logic, we will make it up. We revel in it. We make it worse. And in the end, you see that where misery is supposed to be, there are traces of happiness. It drives me crazy. Does it do the same to you?