Stage Directions

A few months back I was bemoaning what torture it was having to write character descriptions. I seem to have survived to complain another day. Actually, no complaint. Just wanted to share some stage directions that I think are pretty swell. Aspirationally swell. As in I want to write stage directions/description like this.

Karin (interrupting): Perhaps, Mr. Bergman, you would please sit down over there beside Mrs. Martha. And Torsten, you sit beside Anna. Then we can say grace.

All: For what we are about to receive may the Lord make us truly thankful.

They all hurriedly bow and curtsy, then sit down among much cheerful chatter. Miss Siri and Miss Lisen in black and white, and starched caps, appear with fresh asparagus and mineral water.

Henrik Bergman is now afflicted with further trials. He has never seen asparagus before. He has never before had a four-course dinner. He has never drunk anything but water, beer, or schnapps with his food, and he has never in his life seen a finger bowl with a small red flower swimming around in the water. He has never seen so many knives and forks, and he has never before conversed with a sarcastically good-humored lady with a strong Russian accent. Walls loom high and chasms open.

And then there is a wonderful monologue by the good-humored lady with the strong Russian accent. Then more description.

In addition to asparagus, the menu includes salmon mousse with green sauce, spring chicken (hard to handle), and Anna's masterpiece, a trembling crème caramel.

After coffee in the salon, they make music. Dusk is falling and they light candles around the musicians, who are playing the slow movement of Beethoven's last string quartet. Johan Åkerblom plays the cello; Carl is a good amateur violinist, member of the Academic Orchestra. Ernst plays second violin, with great feeling but less success. A retired member of the Royal Opera House orchestra comes down for coffee from his apartment above, with his viola, a courteous shadow, benevolent and somewhat haughty. He can hardly bear to make music in this company, but the superintendent of traffic has underwritten loans for him and his suffering is prescribed.

Music and dusk. Henrik sinks...all this is dreamlike, outside and beyond his own colorless days. Anna is sitting by the window, looking steadily at the musicians and listening with attention, her profile outlined against the dying light outside. Now she senses she is being watched and controls her first impulse, but then gives in and turns to look at Henrik. He is looking gravely at her, and she smiles slightly formally, slightly ironically, but then becomes grave in response to Henrik's solemnity. I see you, all right. I see.

Now it is time to leave, and farewells are being exchanged. Henrik bows and says thank you in all directions and for a brief moment finds Anna in front of him. She stands on tiptoe and whispers quickly into his ear, her hair fragrant, a light touch.

- Ingmar Bergman, Best Intentions