Åke Grönberg Movies

Based on a Lars Goerling novel, the Swedish 491 took on a life of its own thanks to its myriad of censorship problems. The basic story concerns a group of juvenile delinquents, in particular a girl (Lena Nyman) and a boy (Leif Nymark). The film's censorial sore points included scenes between homosexuals and an interlude with a prostitute; also, bestiality was suggested, though never shown. Filmmaker Vilgot Sjoman had to go all the way to Swedish Parliament to get his film into theatres; this he accomplished only after making several judicious cuts, and redubbing certain dialogue passages. In the US, the film didn't have a chance; this was, after all still the Production Era. Bloody but unbowed, Vilgot Sjoman went on to direct the even more graphic and controversial I Am Curious-Yellow (1967) - which did get an American release. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

A meteor crashes into the frozen mountains of Northern Sweden, though the Laplanders who witness the event swear that it flew horizontally for hundreds of feet and left skidmarks in the snow. American scientist Dr. Vance Wilson (Robert Burton) is called overseas to help investigate, and joins dashing young geologist Erik Engstrom (Sten Gester) in Stockholm to discuss the phenomenon. Erik meets Wilson's niece, Diane (Barbara Wilson), an Olympic ice skater in training, and the two of them begin flirting heavily both on the slopes and the dancefloor. The scientists are called to the scene of the interstellar accident when an entire herd of reindeer are found mutilated nearby, and Diane stows away on their plane to get close to the action. When Erik and Dr. Wilson examine the meteor closely, however, it's clear to them that it's actually some sort of vessel from outer space. Before they can fly back to the city and alert the authorities, a 20-foot tall behemoth with shaggy fur and gruesome fangs kills a guard and destroys their airplane. Erik and Diane ski off for help, but she injures her knee and finds herself a captive of the enormous monster. Strangely, the creature treats her with gentleness despite her screams. What is the origin of this unearthly beast, and what is its connection to the alien spacecraft? This Swedish-made sci-fi picture was purchased by American producer Jerry Warren, who changed the narrative with new footage and released it to state-side audiences as Invasion of the Animal People in 1962. ~ Fred Beldin, Rovi

This rich, powerful Ingmar Bergman film charts the frustrations and humiliations of several circus performers. The circus's portly owner, Albert (Ake Gronberg), recalls a humiliating incident involving the company's clown, Frost (Anders Ek), who discovered his wife, Alma (Gudrun Brost), swimming nude before a band of cheering soldiers. Having concluded his recollection, Albert visits his estranged wife, Agda (Annika Tretow), who realizes that he has made little money with his circus endeavor. While Albert endures the humiliating encounter with his wife, his jealous mistress, Anne (Harriet Andersson), retaliates by yielding to a seductive local actor, Frans (Hasse Ekman), then realizes that she has been exploited and debased. Later, the drunken Frost informs Albert of Anne's sexual indiscretion, whereupon Albert determines to thrash Anne's cynical lover. In the ensuing altercation, however, Frans manages to thwart Albert's bullish attacks and deliver a series of punishing blows. Beaten and degraded, Albert ponders suicide, then decides to avenge himself on unfaithful women by killing the company's bear, beloved by the provocative Alma, whose betrayal of Frost has so haunted Albert. Following the bear's demise, the company departs to another town. Gycklarnas Afton is full of powerful performances and staggering sequences, including the legendary flashback in which Frost finds his wife cavorting nude before the soldiers. In this scene, played with almost hysterical intensity, Frost, dressed as a clown, tearfully carries his nude wife from the water, past the soldiers, and back to the circus tent. The soundtrack's jarring contrast between sheer silence and a blaring brass band, coupled with the black-and-white cinematography's emphasis on glaring sunlight, generate a mood of considerable tension and unease. This extraordinary scene ranks among Ingmar Bergman's greatest feats and readily establishes Gycklarnas Afton as an unflinching examination of the human condition. ~ Les Stone, Rovi

Nearly a decade before his brilliant starring performance in Ingmar Bergman's Wild Strawberries, Swedish actor/director Victor Sjostrom topped the cast of Arne Mattson's Rallare. At this point in time, Mattson was alternating between thrillers and romances. Rallare falls into neither category: it is instead a pageantlike paean to the 19th-century builders of the Swedish railroad. Ballong (Sjostrom) and his pal Valfrid (John Ellfstrom) are two of the many stout-hearted, strong-limbed laborers who braved the elements to bring transportation to the length and breadth of Sweden. When not driving spikes or laying track, the two venerable stars while away their time with liquor and women -- and sometimes, with women and liquor. A box-office bonanza in Sweden, Rallare was liberally adapted by Rune Lindstrom from his own novel Nordanvind. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Gustav Molander's Woman Without a Face (originally Kvinna utan Ansikte) is distinguished by a screenplay by no less than Ingmar Bergman. Not a remake of Molander's A Woman's Face, as one might assume at first glance, the later film concentrates on the emotional turmoil experienced by an artist named Ruth (Gunn Wallgren). Unable to reach out to her friends and loved ones, Ruth puts her fate in the hands of the duplicitous Victor (George Funkqvist), who is Satan in everything but name. One wonders how this quintessentially Bergmanesque material would have been handled with Bergman himself in the director's chair. In America, Woman Without a Face was sold on the reputation of his male lead, up-and-coming matinee idol Alf Kjellin. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi