Ingmar Bergman, "The Seventh Seal" (1957)

Returning from his long journey as a knight in the Crusades, Antonius Block encounters the personified figure of Death, with whom he plays chess in order to delay his moment of death. From this point at the shore, Block and his squire Jöns move inland through the sufferings of the common people due to the Plague and abounding religious condemnation of those deemed to be witches. The knight, Antonius Block, confesses to a priest, Death in disguise, of his thirst for knowledge in the face of imminent death and the endless questions of doubt on faith and reason: “Is it so awfully unthinkable to conceive of God with one's senses? Why should He conceal Himself in a fog of half-spoken promises and unseen miracles? How are we to believe the believers when we don't believe ourselves? What will become of us who want to believe but cannot? And what of those who neither will nor can believe?” While acknowledging that faith precisely starts from the abandonment of reason, Block, who suffered and fought for the sake of religion for so long under the Crusades, even now still struggles with doubts about faith and contemplates what his life has become. He expresses his wish to do one meaningful and significant act before he dies. Yet Bergman also shows a contrasting group of characters: Jof and Mia, who travel throughout the country as performers and jesters with their baby. Jof, an imaginative, jovial, and almost innocent of the questions which fundamentally characterize Block in the film, sees visions–for instance, baby Jesus and Virgin Mary. Even through humiliating circumstances, Jof and Mia stay cheerful and loving to each other. And on the bristling grass, under the clearness of the sky, whose brightness is noticeable even through the black-and-white cinematography of the film, there happens the intersection in the paths of these two groups. Although still solemn and preoccupied with his questions, Antonius Block experiences that which makes those questions seem insignificant: “But all of that seems unreal when I sit here with you and your husband,” he says to Mia. (The significance of this moment ties to the theme which I wish to elaborate more on in the second paragraph.) Ultimately, Antonius Block returns to his estate and is again faced with Death, now with the knowledge that this time it is inescapable, prays in fear. “For we are small, afraid and without knowledge,” he laments. The film ends with Jof seeing Death’s dance afar, all travelers hand in hand led by Death in a single line. 

Truly an encyclopedic film, The Seventh Seal contains many themes in layers, which even after my third viewing seem impossible to synthesize. Yet contemplation on the nature of faith may be one of the most prominent, recurring ideas throughout the film. Antonius Block imagines faith to be a perfect state of being in which the questions naturally resolve themselves and knowledge is effortlessly gained. It is to him a key to the struggles and doubts of his life, an anecdote to the nothingness of his existence. Yet what shall he do to achieve such a state of being? To this question, firmly unyielding to his rationalization, he is unable to answer it. However, Bergman shows Block, although still wrestling with questions, acting in small manners that bring temporary “meaning” to his existence. Playing chess with Death, Block upon realizing that Death is now inescapable and that his efforts at delaying it are now nullified, intentionally distracts Death so that he can save not himself but Jof and Mia. Block may have imagined faith as a state of being; yet the film later reveals that that may not be the actual nature of faith in this case, that the choice of faith is not made once and for all but by constant repetition of it. And that constant repetition of faith may not be without struggles. Many critics relate this idea to Kierkegaard’s Christian faith, as Kierkegaard writes in his book Fear and Trembling: “For then faith was a task for a whole lifetime, not a skill thought to be acquired in either days or weeks.” Does this film accurately portray biblical truth in regard to faith? To be honest, the film as a whole is an enigma to me and does not easily lend itself to any central synthesizing message nor one interpretation. Rather, the film addresses a series of questions, answered in manners difficult to concretize in my opinion. However, examining the nature of faith in this film through Kierkegaard’s Christian faith, I do think it is an accurate portrayal of biblical truth. James 2:14-17 states, “What does it profit, my brethren, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can faith save him?...also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” I think this passage illustrates how true faith shapes the actions of those who believe. So faith may not be a one-time choice in a fit of passion yet analogous to a movement; not a perfect state of being but a work of a lifetime not without struggles. And in that repetition of faith does one find the self. In conclusion, I would highly recommend this film to anyone who enjoys works of art quite unyielding to easy access but thought-provoking in different ways through different versions of oneself throughout space and time. Universal in its ideas and questions addressed, there will be some dialogue, some imagery, some angle of the camera, intentional in its movement, that would appeal to anyone watching. 

Written sometimes in December of 2022.