love dies in the city. Throw the bucket as soon as access to its meandering without deprivation, restrictions, conformity, bigotry. Suffocates inside those homes overworked, occupations of every kind and nature, the customs to honor: there is to look after children to make ends meet, it is to meet a whole slew of charges typically bourgeois. Among this myriad of commitments, obligations and duties, there is still time for it?
There is nothing surprising that fans of Bergman - Monica & Harry - live the only moments of true happiness, when they decide to spend the holidays alone in nature, including a swim in the clear sea and a stroke on the green grasslands. There, far away from everything and everyone, who lived the happiest days, we were able to really express, freely, without coercion or obligations, without having to look after the reputation nor being overwhelmed by the chaos of the city. There, among the wilds, their love was a fusion of passion and emotion, physical desire and mood. Over there, there was work that took hours, a commitment that separates them, loving each other was their use. But once again moored in the port city, everything is suddenly gone, swallowed and anesthetized from the clutches of greedy companies. True love perishes once crossed its threshold, agonizes between his infinite obligations, liabilities, liens, hypocrisy, customs, between his hectic. That's why lovers bergmaniani run away: run away from that world at the moment sad and cold, making a gesture that is as rebellious as accusatory towards a society that has completely ousted, replaced by a surrogate, relegated to a small corner at the mercy of the rest. The lovers, however, are forced to return because, while hating, can not do without that city / society. Yet, in one of the last sequences, Monica kindled a cigarette, draws, fixed the camera and his thinking refers to those days happy and fortunate among rocks and woods would have preferred to go on like this, including starvation and misery, just to keep intact and unchanged, the purity of that love wild. Now, that surrogate, does not really know what to do ...
"Just think, at this time to the company they all work."
"And even in my basement, carrying baskets and baskets to be weighed, and it's all dirty and wet
" We have rebelled against them, against all.
"Di ', remember the story we read? The lovers of the forest? "
" Yes, uuuu, aaaaa, eeeee "
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