Gycklarnas afton

name : 小丑之夜

image :

caption : Gyclarnas Afron

导演 : [[英格玛·伯格曼]]

制片人 : [[Rune_Waldekranz]]

原著作者 : [[英格玛·伯格曼]]

编剧 : [[英格玛·伯格曼]]

主演 : [[Åke_Grönberg]]

作曲 : [[Karl-Birger_Blomdahl]]

摄影 : [[Hilding_Bladh]]

剪辑 : [[Carl-Olov_Skeppstedt]]

发行 : 1953年 瑞典 [[Sandrew-Bauman_Film]]
1956年 美国 [[Times_Film_Corporation]]
2007年 [[The_Criterion_Collection]] DVD

首映日期 : 瑞典 1953年9月14日
芬兰 1954年4月16日
美国 1956年4月9日

片长 : 93分钟

胶片 : 35 mm

颜色 : 黑白

语言 : 瑞典语

声音 : 单声道

douban_id : 1300957

mtime_id : 12235

imdb_id : 0045848




条目星级 : ★



The film opens with a flashback story about the clown Frost and his wife Alma. Their story sometimes parallels and sometimes counterpoints the story of Albert and Anne which follows. Albert is the owner of a small, tawdry circus, and Anne, his mistress is a horseback rider in the circus.

The circus stops at a small south-Scanian town. Years before Albert had left his wife Agda for the circus, but now he is tired of being on the road, and he tries to effect a reconciliation. Agda refuses to resume the marriage.

Anne, in the meantime, has a brief and humiliating affair with an actor, Frans.

During a gala performance given by the circus Frans taunts Albert about his liaison with Anne. Unhappy and enraged, Albert challenges Frans to a fight and is severely beaten as a result. Albert then tries to kill himself but the revolver misfires, and instead he shoots a caged bear that belongs to Alma, the wife of the clown Frost.

Finally, the circus leaves town, and Albert and Anne find themselves still miserably committed to each other.


Originally marketed in the States as a sex film under the title “The_Naked_Night”.


“The criticism was universally devastating, the audience stayed away, the producer is counting his losses, and I myself have to wait ten years for my next try in this genre. In other words, if I do one or two more pictures that result in an economic loss, the producer rightly feels that he doesn’t dare to bet gold on my talents any more.”

— Ingmar Bergman (1954)

“His conception of the camera angle, cutting, montage, of the acting itself is, on the whole, that of the directors of the years between the wars. We are often reminded of Sternberg, sometimes of Vigo. Furthermore this archaism is here all the more evident—but all the less troublesome—in that it is conscious. In the beginning, done practically in silent-film technique, there is a short and strange dream sequence, before which even Buñuel pales. But this total isolation of Sweden both in time and in space has its advantages as well as its disadvantages. It is better to calmly go one’s own way than, like so many small nations, to run oneself breathless after an ancient technique.”

— Eric Rohmer

“The_Naked_Night is the most blackly ambivalent of Bergman’s films—and surely one of the most brutally erotic movies ever made—but it is essentially a study of the masculine helplessness before the female force.”

— James Baldwin (1960)




“The_Naked_Night [was] the first of Bergman’s films that convinced me that he was not only a significant artist from a Swedish or Nordic point of view, but a renewer of the film’s descriptive language….In sheer competence, Bergman has not advanced from The_Naked_Night. His film language has become more subtle. What he expresses in this picture he has learned to say in another way. At the same time, perhaps something of the spontaneous inspiration has been lost. The_Naked_Night belongs among the rare films that continue to grow, to live with the spectator.”

— Jörn Donner, The Films of Ingmar Bergman (1964)

“If Sawdust_and_Tinsel is influenced by any film, it is not Dupont’s Variety. Variety is set similarly but stands thematically in exact opposition to Sawdust_and_Tinsel. In Variety, Jannings kills the lover. Here, Albert transcends his jealousy and humiliations because of an irresistable need to like people.”

— Ingmar Bergman, Images: My Life in Film (1990)

“Sawdust_and_Tinsel is relatively honest and shamelessly personal. Albert Johansson, the circus owner, loves both Anne and his chaotic life in the circus. And yet, he is strongly drawn toward the bourgeois security he had in life with his now-abandoned wife. To put it briefly: he is a walking chaos of conflicting emotions. The fact that Åke_Grönberg played Albert, and that the part was expressly written for him, has nothing to do with any influence from Dupont’s film Variety with Emil Jannings. It’s much simpler than that: if a scrawny director aims for a self-portrait, of course he chooses a fat actor to play himself.”

— Ingmar Bergman, Images: My Life in Film (1990)