While Summer Interlude was Ingmar Bergman’s ninth film, it’s the first one that would explore many of the themes and motifs he would become so well known for—love, loss, and the influence of adolescence on adulthood.

The story, told largely in flashbacks, tells the story of Marie (Maj-Britt Nilsson) a prima ballerina in her late twenties. In the midst of difficult rehearsals for Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake, Marie receives the diary of her first love; a college-boy named Henrik (Birger Malmsten), whom she met thirteen years earlier. After the power goes out, rehearsals are canceled for the day, and wasaffair, Marie takes a boat to the archipelago, where she met the man who would become the love of her life. That was a summer of many memories both good and bad, one that would end in a tragic accident, taking Henrik away from Marie forever.

Though the island is presently rainy and drear, we are soon transported back to a summer thirteen years earlier. Marie had been traveling to spend her summer vacation with her aunt Elisabeth (Renée Björling) and her lecherous uncle Erland (Georg Funkquist), at their cottage before heading back to the city and the prestigious ballet school that awaits. She spends her days boating, and falling in love with Henrik, a quiet, handsome young man staying on the next island over with his with his elderly, wealthy aunt (Mimi Pollak) and a friend of hers.

It’s during Marie’s Island memories that Summer Interlude truly comes alive. Alive is a key word here, as Bergman vividly recreates the experience of first love. The script written by Bergman with Herbert Grevenius is filled with the kind of playful, teasing banter and nervous moments nearly everyone who’s ever had a first love has experienced. The characters are so richly drawn that it’s nearly impossible not to relate to them on some level. There is one almost magical scene in which the two young lovers begin to pencil various characters from their lives on a record sleeve. These drawings come to life in comic form, seemingly representing the ‘fantasy’ world the now deeply in love Marie and Henrik have created for themselves. However, Summer Interlude is a Bergman film, which means the lightness of mood must be followed by equal amounts of the dark.

In the face of tragedy, the difficult and painful lesson Marie learned that summer is that love isn’t worth the potential pain to be worth the risk. For Marie, shutting herself off in a world a ballet fortifies her from the pain of loss. Now, with Henrik’s diary in hand, Marie has a chance to reinvigorate the emotional life she buried all those years ago.

Maj-Britt Nilsson turns in an emotionally vivid performance both an exuberant teenager and a world-weary prima ballerina who is facing the end of her career. Birger Malmsten gives a revealing performance as a young man whose love for Marie has him illuminating long buried emotions. Georg Funkquist is disturbingly effective as Uncle Erland, and Renée Bjorling as his wife displays a knowing persona about her less-than-perfect husband. Alf Kjellin’s David doesn’t get a lot of screen time, but the final scene suggests that they just might find happiness.

Criterion’s 1080p transfer, framed at 1.37:1, is wonderful. The clarity is top-notch throughout. Sharpness is superb with a grayscale that never allows whites to bloom. Black levels are good, and there are a few noticeable scratches along the right side of the frame. On the whole though, for a fifty-year-old film, Criterion has provided a fine transfer.

The uncompressed PCM 1.0 monaural Swedish soundtrack is nicely executed. All dialogue is clear throughout. The slight distortion that exists is an over-brassiness (during ballet sequences with an orchestra), that’s likely a result of the limitations of sound technology of 1951 than anything else.

English subtitles are available, and easy to read.

The following special features are included:

  • Booklet : 16-page illustrated booklet featuring Peter Cowie’s essay “Love and Death in the Swedish Summer”.