The title seems to be a more aptly chosen one than the literal translation, 'The Communicants', of the Swedish title.
Despite the beauty of this, and a number of other shots, Nykvist's cinematography here isn't as artistic as in 'Through a Glass Darkly', but I'm sure that was a deliberate choice of director and cinematographer
I think this one shot, though, might be considered a perfect summation of what the film is all about, and so its perhaps appropriate that its an especially artistic one.
The film is essentially about a 'crisis of conscience' of the pastor, magnificently played, as always, by Gunnar Bjornstrand; the effect of his self-doubt on his parishioners, and the way the people who most care about him help him to re-affirm his faith.
I'm aware that Bergman's father was a pastor and that he had a difficult relationship with him, perhaps for most of his life, but I wonder to what extent the portrait of the pastor both in this film and the altogether different, but frequently magical, 'Fanny and Alexander' is a portrait of his father.
As with his fellow-Scandinavian, Dreyer, with whom he is often compared, I still felt there was a certain degree of playfulness on his part, among the almost prevalent austerity and bleakness.
As the title suggests, the light of Winter is a weak and bleak one, and the chill is not only an external one, but I felt certain elements of the pastor's musings, and especially the sacristan's climactic 'enlightenment' had more than a little element of knowing humour, and the film's all the better for it.
Bergman really stretches his troupe of actors here and they meet the challenge head-on: Ingrid Thulin's expressive face gives an acting tour de force during an extended 6 minute long close up, which, in a different way, reminded me of Dreyer's early Masterpiece, 'The Passion of Joan of Arc'.
Its not one of the greatest of Bergman's films, but in its own quiet, understated way, it is a great film.
And whats most impressive is the way Bergman sucks you in, particularly in those riveting prolonged close-ups, when his often funereal pacing would scupper many lesser directors
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