Ingmar Bergman’s 1972 feature is rereleased for its 50th anniversary and it looks even more intimately disturbing and pornographically painful than ever: a supernatural horror-tragedy of three sisters, and nothing could be less Chekhovian. Tableau scenes from a spiritual hell are vouchsafed to us, with cries of pain, surging and insistent zoom shots on troubled faces, together with inner-life static portraits, whose subjects stare dispassionately at us out of the screen in half-shadow while the whispering of despair susurrates on the soundtrack.
In the early years of the last century, or the late years of the century before that, Agnes (Harriet Andersson) is living alone in the house where she grew up, attended by the family maid Anna (Kari Sylwan). Lonely, wretched Agnes has never married and is now dying of cancer. Her two married sisters Maria and Karin have come home, supposedly to nurse her, although they are selfishly concerned with their own unhappy marriages; the real business of caring is of course down to Anna, who sometimes devotedly gets in to bed with the patient in a strange pietà.
