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Remember what I wrote in my opening paragraphs about (1) old movies being irrelevant, and (2) subtitled movies being boring? This 1957 Ingmar Bergman release irrefutably proves both statements.
When the protagonist is the narrator, ya know you're in trouble. After an opening exposition in which our lead player introduces himself, we're brought to some wacky dream sequence where the clock has no hands and a horse-drawn wagon gets caught on a lamppost.
Symbolism? Fuck symbolism.
Black and white, with English subtitles under Swedish dialogue, and an octogenarian as its leading character, there's really nothing more completely pointless than this utter waste of time, as relevant as tits on a frog. WHY did I even bother watching this piece of shit? Bravo's TV listing rated it four stars, I figured I'd give it a shot.
Ten minutes in, that's just what I concluded � please shoot me!