February
14, 2019
The Phantom Carriage – Sweden, 1921
I
confess to being a skeptic whenever someone professes love for a character who
has clearly not earned it. So, imagine my reaction when a young social worker,
referred to as Sister Edit, erupts with proclamations of love for one David
Holm. Such a confession is even more egregious seeing as how, by this time in
the film, we’ve seen nothing to endear Mr. Holm to anyone. Oh, we’ve seen him
drink himself into a debilitating stupor, castigate social workers for
advocating sobriety, and ridicule loved ones for showing concern over his
possibly life-threatening influence on his children’s health. What we haven’t
seen is any exhibition of empathy or humanity… or kindness or camaraderie or
romantic nature. I could go on, but why belabor the point?
David
Holm is the central focus of Victor Sjostrom’s otherwise impressive 1921 drama,
The Phantom Carriage, and concentrating
the film around Holm is a fascinating choice. I say that because the film’s
opening moments hint at a different lead, Sister Edit herself. In those opening
scenes, we learn that Sister Edit (Astrid Holm) is near death, her condition so
without hope that doctors sent her home to be in the presence of loved ones
when the end finally comes. In a moment of clarity, she proclaims her desire to
see Mr. Holm and entreats those around her to summon him, a request that they set
out to oblige.
Movies
that begin in this way often then flash back to earlier, happier days, but The Phantom Carriage soon cuts to a
scene of three gentlemen getting drunker by the moment. The character that the
film later identifies as Mr. Holm, played by Sjostrom himself, shares a story
about an old man who was jovial every day of the year other than New Year’s
Eve. On that day, he would sit motionless, paralyzed with fear, monitoring the
action around him for signs of hazards and counting the minutes until January 1
and another year of relative safety. According to him, the last person to die
on New Year’s Eve is cursed to drive Death’s carriage for a year. It’s not
difficult to predict just who will be burdened with that responsibility next.
And
yet even this does not go exactly where the audience expects, for we never see
Mr. Holm take the reins. Instead, his predecessor leads him on a stroll down
memory lane, forcing him to relive his greatest insults and poorest choices. In
many of these moments, Sjostrom creates an eerie dual reality by superimposing
the world of the dead over the world of the living, crafting breathtaking
visuals in which the living and the departed pass through each other, utterly
oblivious of the other’s presence. Sjostrom also manipulates light and darkness
to create powerful impressions of innocence and evil. Rooms look dusty and unkempt,
contrasting nicely with the elegant pristine look of those advocating a more
moral world.
Films
like The Phantom Carriage are
probably a product of their time. Modern films rarely embrace religion as
successfully as this one does and are much less likely to come out so strongly
against drinking. In the wrong hands, films that attempt such feats often are
deemed to be sermonizing or endorsing a lifestyle that is too far removed from
reality. However, knowing when the film was made, just one years after the
beginning of Prohibition in the United States and two years after Sweden, as
well as the United States, passed suffrage laws, can help viewers understand the
circumstances these characters are facing and perhaps accept some themes that
they might otherwise have struggled with.
In
truth, films were more religious in the past, and Hollywood films often ended
with sudden conversions and last-minute reprieves after the delivery of a long-delayed
potent prayer. Such endings can occasionally feel rushed, yet here there is a
powerful beauty to it, partly because of the performances Sjostrom gives and
gets from the rest of his cast. Particularly strong is Hilda Borgstrom, who
plays Mrs. Holm. In one particular scene, Sjostrom spotlights her face during a
moment of decision, and we see her expression run through a gambit of emotions
before arriving at one that indicates settlement, but not satisfaction. She has
embraced desperation, and from her expression we can tell she is well aware of
the heartache and instability that is soon to follow.
The Phantom Carriage succeeds because we
want better days for Mrs. Holm, we don’t want Sister Edit’s devotion and faith
to be all for naught, and we see just enough in Mr. Holm’s eyes for us to know
that there is a better man someone beneath the pain, anger, and alcohol. And we
see just enough of what it is like to drive Death’s carriage that we would not
wish that upon anyone, even a man who causes as much hurt as Mr. Holm. I felt
for these characters. I wanted Sister Edit to succeed, for Mrs. Holm to find
happiness, for their children to find safety. And yes, I even rooted for Mr.
Holm to rediscover God.
Which
brings me back to that pronouncement of love. Simply put, the film would be
stronger without it, for it calls into question Sister Edit’s motivation, and
that is a shame. In flashbacks, we come to know her as a character with a
strong will and a deep devotion to charity, religion, and health. Hearing her
call Mr. Holm the love of her life – and knowing that none of their
interactions explain why she would have such strong feelings for him – weakens
her character slightly. After all, sometimes a good person does the right thing
because it is in her nature to do so. It is a reality I wish more movies would
take to heart. (on DVD and Blu-ray from the Criterion Collection)
3
and a half stars
