A portrait of obsession: Revisiting Woman Without a Face
Ingmar Bergman’s melodramatic script receives a striking vitality under Gustaf Molander’s directing in this 1947 Swedish film. Themes of physicality, love, and existential despair are presented in this post-war cinematic piece, symbolic for Bergman’s early career.
From the very first scenes, we get the impression that the main characters are Ragnar Ekberg (Alf Kjellin) and Martin Grande ( Stig Olin) who unexpectedly meet at the bar of a hotel one afternoon. Their interaction reveals Martin’s internal turmoil which externalizes itself through hysteric episodes – soon discovered by Ragnar to be the result of his mistress. He is not only shocked by the man’s intense emotional outburst but also worried enough to follow up, discovering him at a crucial moment, on the verge of suicide.
At first glance, Ragnar seems to be the main character and the storyteller leading the way for Molander’s flashback approach, which gives the film an intense pace and fatalistic charge. This first crisis of the plot, makes Ragnar wonder what went so incredibly wrong in Martin’s life, so there is a shift from the perspective of the storyteller to the person he is telling the story about, his domestic life and failed marriage to Frida, the encounter and affair with his mistress Rut Köhler (Gunn Wållgren) and subsequent life-defining moments in the case of all characters involved.
The story and its ethical scheme are ironically not black and white, as Martin is this “ morally grey” hero fighting with guilt, redemption, and the need for forgiveness while being simultaneously consumed with lust and desire. However, the character that gives this film the intensity it needs to shape its emotional depth is Rut. As a femme-fatale driven by wittiness and an appeal for eroticism, she does not have any restraints in showcasing her sexuality. She quickly understands Martin’s weaknesses and exploits them through games of jealousy, mutual obsession, codependence, and violence. Rut uses this as a coping mechanism to try to overcome her trauma linked to sexual abuse which she describes as “trying to kill the blind monkey”. Art is also her mode of expression, and the looming presence of her paintings, particularly the portrait of her stepfather, present from the first part of the film is a foreshadowing device.
Gunn Wållgren’s performance is powerful in it depiction of desperation and the terror of being alone, which has even more depth through her facial expressions, and the close-ups of her wide eyes that tell the story for her. Molander essentially shoots this film as a thriller, using the interplay of shadow and light to create suspense and mystery. The camerawork and the frames are lively and provide a continuous flow that keeps the viewers engaged and in a constant state of restlessness. Moreover, the film’s exploration of the blurred line between devotion and self-destruction, guilt and revenge, abuse and love gives the characters and the story psychological complexity and an overall sense of unease.
Molander’s black-and-white psychological thriller offers a refreshingly immersive viewing experience. With its steady yet suspenseful pace, thought-provoking dialogue, and a style of acting distinct from modern films, it transports the viewer to another era, allowing a pause from the fast pace of everyday life. The film is available on streaming platforms like Netflix, and for the most authentic experience, I highly recommend watching it in the original Swedish audio.
Written by Chis Iulia-Maria — 22/2/2025