The Swedish actor Max Von
Sydow appears, now, in another supernatural tale, this time as a knight just
back from the Crusades, wondering if it was all worth it. Take it from me. It wasn’t.
The Seventh Seal (1957)
[U – Some
scenes, especially those involving chess and Scrabble®, may be tedious for
young children.]
The Seventh Seal shares with The Tale of Two Cities
that same rare ingredient; in this case, famous opening and closing
scenes.
The vision of the Knight playing chess with Death on
the sea-shore is iconic. As is the
final shot of Death with his scythe leading away his conquests in a grotesque
dance silhouetted against a doom-laden sky.
You do not have to speak Swedish to know these two cinematic
moments.
But in between, lies nothing less (or more – it
rather depends on your point of view) than a treatise on the nature of man’s
existence. On God, on faith, on
religion. On the arbitrariness of
Fate.
At one point, the blacksmith, Plog, says to the
Knight’s squire, Jons:
“Just between us, I’d say life was a little…”
Jons interrupts with
“Yes, it is.
But don’t think about it now.”
The exchange sums up this 1957 World Cinema classic,
by Swedish film-maker Ingmar Bergman, which proves that the French are not the
only ones who make films in which nothing ever happens.
The Knight, Antonius Blok, and his squire, Jons,
return to 14th Century Sweden, from 10 years in the Holy Land,
fighting in what Jons describes as the most idealistic of pointless Crusades,
only to be – they think, quite unfairly –
struck down by plague at the moment they set foot on land. Death comes for Blok, but Blok does not want
to go. He challenges Death to a game of
chess, and prolongs his life on Earth for as long as he can hold Death at bay. Should he win, he will have conquered Death,
completely. Death is intrigued enough
to play along. It buys Blok, and for
some reason his cynical squire - who does not play chess, but keeps going along
for the ride as someone to talk to - another day of life, which they spend
trying to find meaning in what they have lived through. This is Don Quixote with attitude.
They encounter various characters in contrasting
states of hope and despair, but, if anything, less and less meaning, while Blok
renews his game with Death at various – less memoraby photogenic – points along
the way. Hope finally resides in a
family of three; an actor, his wife, and their child, who plan to travel down
the coast to their next venue. The
Knight persuades them to accompany him through the woods, that night, and thus
avoid the plague. Death has other
ideas, anyway, and comes for them in the dark.
But the actor sees visions, and is able to see The Knight and Death
playing their deadly game together, so he sets off to lead his family away from
the danger. The Knight finally gains
some redemption, when he distracts Death by accidentally knocking over some of
his pieces just as they escape.
[Scene: Exterior.
Woods near dawn. The Knight
Antonius Blok is playing chess with Death.
Blok has just knocked over the pieces in one corner of the board.]
Death: Are you conceding?
Knight: No. Just being clumsy. Look. The game was heading for a draw, was it not? I was wondering. Do you play Scrabble®?
Death: Scrabble®? You risk much, my friend. Chess is a game over which you have some
control. Cold logic lies behind every
move. If you have the capacity, you can
always win, or, at the very least, ensure a draw. Scrabble® is a game of fate, ruled over by the Gods of
chance. These are Gods with whom I am
well-acquainted. You are prepared to
risk all on such a game?
Knight: Yes. It is also a game of guile and cunning. I think you underestimate me.
Death: I think you underestimate me.
[Out of nowhere, Death
produces a Super De Luxe Scrabble® Set.
The board is inset into a customised round marble base. It is decorated with his name, and with the
records of his previous conquests.
Prominent amongst these is the now infamous World Championships
Hastings 1066. He hands the Knight
an engraved ornamental rack. The Knight
produces his own out of his travelling-purse.
It is simple, and wooden.]
Knight: If you don’t mind, I prefer to use
my own.
[Death holds-up a
regulation-sized leather bag full of golden letters. The Knight draws a tile.
It is an A. Death draws. It is a blank. The Knight strives not to look unnerved. It is Death to start. He puts down 4 letters on the board.]
Death: EVIL. 14 points.
Knight: QUICK. 50 points.
Death: The Quick and the DEAD. 16 points.
I have 30 points.
Knight: [Laughing ironically] LAUGHTER.
65 points. 115.
Death: In the circumstances, you maintain your sense of humour very well. KILL. 8 points. 38 in all.
Knight: QI. 11 points. Total 126.
Death: Qi? Are we playing the Double Challenge Rule?
Knight: The Double Challenge Rule? No. That is only in America.
Death: Then I challenge! What is Qi?
Knight: Pronounced ‘chee’. It is a word from Chinese medicine, meaning a person’s life-force.
Death: That is the medicine in which they stick pins into people, is it not?
Knight: Yes. Though they prefer to call them needles.
Death: When I stick pins in people, it means something-else. PAIN. 20 points. 58.
Knight: Point taken. BREATH. The breath of life. 13 points. 139.
Death: PLAGUE. The breath of Death. 24 points. Total 82.
Knight: TAO. 7 points. Total 146.
Death: Tao? The source of all existence? Doesn’t that have a capital letter?
Knight: Not in the International Word-List.
Death: You are truly well-travelled. Perhaps your life was not so misspent after all. But another Chinese word? What is such a word doing in the English language?
Knight: It is part of a philosophy which worships many gods, and which is embraced by some in the West. You are lucky we are not playing in Swedish…
Death: Luck has nothing to do with it. Everything has a purpose. [Death lays all 7 of his letters] The blank is a D. DOMESDAY. 76 points. Total 158. I have already overhauled you, and you are not scoring so well. You play too risky a strategy.
Knight: JOB. 12 points. Total 153. Job was a man from the Bible who maintained his faith in God despite all the misfortunes that the World could throw at him.
Death: JOB. 24 points. Total 182. It was the Devil who sat on the throne of Heaven while Job lived.
Knight: MAN. 10 points. Total 163. It is Man, not God. Man alone upon whom we can rely.
Death: [Comtemptuously] DESTROY. 134 points. Total 316.
Knight: ETERNIZE. 71 points. Total 234. It means to make eternal. To immortalize…
Death: [Impatiently] I know what it means. DESTROYING. 45 points. Total 361.
Knight: MANI. 6 points. Total 240.
Death: Mani?
Knight: A prayer-wall in a Buddhist temple.
Death: Prayers! That way madness lies. MANIC. 12 points. Total 373.
Knight: IF. 10 points. Total 250. A euphemism for Fate. “If you can meet with triumph and disaster…”
Death: “…and treat those two impostors just the same.” You do a lot of coffee-housing for a dead man. KILLER. 12 points. Total 385.
Knight: Not dead yet. EXISTENT. 194 points. Total 444.
Death: HUN. A vandal. Another destroyer of all you believe in. 37 points. Total 422.
[The Knight stares at the board. He leads, but only narrowly, and there are only 2 tiles in the bag. He holds the last blank, yet, instead of blocking the dangerous opening around the C, Death has made a new one with the R. The tiles Blok can’t account for are very awkward. He has the best of what remains. The odds are stacked well in his favour. Surely the tile-gods will not let him down. Surely he can’t lose.]
Knight: V-I-S-C-E-R-A-blank. The blank is an L. 165 points. I have 609 to your 422.
[The Knight takes the last 2 tiles from the bag. They are F and O.]
Death: [Laughs] I warned you not to choose a game of chance. It makes of you a play-thing for fortune. “And when the lamb had opened the Seventh Seal there was silence in Heaven which lasted about the space of half an hour. And I saw the seven angels, who were standing before the thone of God, and to them were given seven trumpets, and the angels prepared to sound. And the first angel sounded his trumpet, and there followed hail and fire, mingled with blood, and they were cast upon the Earth. And the third part of trees was burnt-up. And the third part of fields was burnt-up, and all green grass was burnt-up. And the second angel sounded his trumpet, and as it were a great mountain burning with fire was cast down into the sea, and the third part of the sea became blood. And the third angel sounded his trumpet and there fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp and this fell upon the third part of the rivers, and on the fountains of the water, and the star’s name is WORMWOOD.” 239 points. Total 661. Plus 5 from you, makes 666.
Knight: I can’t believe it! I don’t know how you sleep at night! You had all the blanks and every S!
Death: I think you’ll find we had an equal share…
Knight: Well, you had all the Os then…
Death: …which would matter more if we were playing in Swedish. I warned you not to put your trust in Fate. I think it’s time to go, now…
[Death leads The Knight, his squire, and all the people who wouldn’t have died but for his having spent an extra day spreading the plague wherever he went, up the hill, silhouetted against a backdrop of stormy clouds. Death carries his scythe, while each of his victims carries something of their own to take into the after-life; a chess-set, a Scrabble®-set, a draughts-set, a game of ludo, another of snakes and ladders. Each had tried and failed to gain a little more time by distracting Death with some challenge or other.
In the foreground, the actor Jol and his family get back into their wagon, as they live to fight another day. Jol glances back under the awning, and casts a jealous eye over his precious box of Trivial Pursuit®.]
[The End. Of the World]