The Marxist was the Bergman fan, not me, but I have to say I suddely feel something for his style that I never did before after watching Autumn Sonata.  It is cumbersome, lumbering, clunky, naive, contrived, exhaustive, but it is also 'russian' in the way all good Dostoevsky stories are.  It has that feverish pitch of expression, the hyper-catharsis, like everyone has taken a truth serum and can now emote free of all inhibition... Somehow I can tolerate this now in a way I never could before, I have bought into the conceit and let it carry me part way into the drama.  I still see the caricature in the style, the Woody Allen 'Love and Death' flavour, but at least in this Bergman film I didn't care.  The mother daughter relationship was harrowing despite the contrivances... due in large part to performances of Liv Ullman and Ingrid Bergman which are revelatory.  The first half of the film was Ingrid, the second all Liv... with a kind of bravado that left me mesmerized.  I couldn't shake the performance aspect, but still what performances!  I admire this film more then I love it, certainly one of the best Bergman films I have seen, second only to Seventh Seal. 

Alas there is more Bergman to go on this list.  At least I am spared Tarchovsky... so far. --Mike