the magician, bergman

that was a weird movie. it was like smiles of a summer night for believing instead of love. in the end, the belief of a king is enough to change the whole genre of a movie. they are what we want? what tortured people, conforming to all the various expectations. and that crazy scene in the attic. i found that all really scattered, another one of those movies where i don't know what's what, where there doesn't seem to be anything with a foot fully in the "real world," anything on which i can rely and base the rest of my interpretation.

the characters not in the troupe are simple enough, and the characters that arent vogler and his wife are i guess the only ones for whom it all isnt clear.

do they not like him in the end because they don't understand him anymore? i guess we don't like him either, he's lost us the way he has them. he's come into a dream world, he's succeeded and so been damned permanently. still there are all these erratic sprinklings of magic throughout, the ordinary kinds. it's all however much you make of it, the police chief's wife telling the truths, etc. everyone wants so much to laugh, what a fucking relief to laugh and understand.

in a movie like that i suppose one expects the reprieve of learning whether or not vogler and co are at all magical, and they are for other people. other people can build their edifices of belief and imagination on them. the real magic, the creepy truths only emerge i guess after he takes off that face and frightens the wits out of us and the chief douche bag.

but there's all this secondary stuff i fail to understand, like the brandy ghost man. he i do not understand one bit except in and of himself, in the narrowest sense. and i also don't understand the witch. for why is that ending forced on her? why is she a fake, accumulating riksdollars? is it because she acted? it's all so hazy