Smultronstallet (Wild Strawberries)

Ingmar Bergman, 1957. This is a fine movie, in many ways traditional but also excellent beyond that. The screenplay is masterful, the images compelling, and it features a terrific ending.
First the look; again the sharp contrasts of the angular shadows, the strong blacks and whites, always very sharp. We have wonderful texturing in the by turns harsh and soft light of the lead female and lead male's faces, the grains. The dream sequence near the start is also, much copied so can appear a little hokey, a fascinatingly shot, exposed and scripted piece. Many copies have been over obvious, but Bergman does not give his secrets away so easily.
The story goes along nicely, deliberately not quite adding up to what we traditonally belive it may. The collision of past and present does not seem so much like a trick as the most realist possible evocation of our protagonist's head.
The script, as Bergman can, gets a little bit over-intellectualised and a little second year student, but is generally rescued before this becomes too much of a portentuous problem. Largely it is enjoyable mixed with undertones of wider truth.
And the ending too; refusing a fetish of a pastoral idyll, or laughable pessimism, or anything that we can express right here, really. Wonderful, powerful, and a rare example of that over-used word in relation to the movies, 'profound'.