Honestly, if you grew up in Sweden or even if you just own a Criterion Collection box set, Ingmar Bergman is basically a god. He’s the guy who made the world take cinema seriously. The black-and-white existential dread, the clocks with no hands, the screaming silence—he’s the blueprint. But Stellan Skarsgård? He’s not buying the sainthood. Not even a little bit.
You’ve probably seen Skarsgård in everything from Dune to Mamma Mia!, playing the lovable dad or the terrifying Baron. But in 2025, at the Karlovy Vary Film Festival, he decided to drop a truth bomb that made the industry collectively gasp. He called Bergman an "asshole." And a "Nazi." And a "manipulator."
It wasn't just a random outburst. It was the result of decades of biting his tongue about the man who once sat at the top of the Swedish film food chain like a king.
The 1980s: When Stellan Met Ingmar
Most people think these two titans must have been best friends. They weren't. They actually only worked together twice. First, there was a 1983 TV production called Hustruskolan (The School for Wives). Then, they did a stage version of August Strindberg’s A Dream Play in 1986.
Skarsgård wasn't some starry-eyed kid. He was already established, but Bergman was the sun everything orbited. Working with him was supposed to be the pinnacle. Instead, Stellan found the atmosphere suffocating. He described it as a place where fear was the primary currency.
"Bergman was manipulative," Skarsgård said, and he didn't mean it as a compliment about his directing style. He meant the man literally played people against each other. He’d walk into a room, smile, make everyone laugh, and yet the vibe was just... off. Skarsgård compared that specific brand of "smiling fear" to the feeling people must have had around Goebbels. Yeah. That’s a heavy comparison to drop on the guy who made The Seventh Seal.
The Elephant in the Room: The Nazi Connection
Here is where it gets messy. Everyone knows Bergman had "youthful sympathies" for the Nazi party. He wrote about it in his own memoir, The Magic Lantern. He admitted to being electrified by Hitler when he visited Germany as a 16-year-old on an exchange program. He even had a photo of the guy by his bed.
But Skarsgård took it further. He claimed Bergman was "the only person I know who cried when Hitler died."
Now, wait. Bergman was born in 1918. Hitler died in 1945. Stellan Skarsgård wasn't even born until 1951. So, did he see Bergman crying? No. But in the tight-knit world of Swedish theatre, these stories aren't just rumors; they’re institutional memory. Skarsgård’s point wasn't just about a teenager making a mistake. He argued that Bergman’s "weird outlook on other people"—the idea that some people were simply "not worthy"—never really went away. It just changed shape.
Why Stellan Kept His Distance
- The Control Factor: Bergman didn't just direct movies. He ran the Royal Dramatic Theatre. He influenced who got hired at SVT (Swedish television). If you crossed him, you weren't just out of a job; you were out of the industry.
- The Power Play: Skarsgård famously said he didn't want Bergman "near my life." While other actors were desperate for the director's approval, Stellan saw the way Bergman destroyed people to "utilize his power."
- The Comparison: Stellan often points to Lars von Trier as the "good" version of a difficult director. Von Trier might be a provocateur, but according to Skarsgård, he’s a "wonderful man" who treats people like human beings. Bergman, in his eyes, treated them like chess pieces.
Separating the Art from the Asshole
Does this mean we stop watching Persona? Even Skarsgård says no.
He’s very clear about this: "He was a nice director, but you can still denounce a person as an asshole." He used the Caravaggio defense. Caravaggio was a murderer and a general menace to society, but the paintings? They’re still masterpieces. You can acknowledge that Bergman was a "hyper-intelligent" artist while also recognizing that he was a "control freak" who did things that "were not kosher."
The reality is that Bergman’s films often deal with the very cruelty Skarsgård is talking about. The coldness, the silence, the psychological warfare—it wasn't just something he imagined; it was something he lived and, apparently, inflicted.
👉 See also: The Get Thee to a Nunnery Scene: Why Hamlet's Meltdown Still Breaks Our Brains
What This Means for Film Fans Today
We are in an era where we’re obsessed with the "morality" of our creators. We want our heroes to be perfect. But Skarsgård is reminding us that the history of cinema is paved with people who were, frankly, nightmares to be around.
If you're looking to understand the real Ingmar Bergman, you have to look past the Criterion essays. You have to look at the actors like Stellan who refused to be "crushed."
How to Navigate the Bergman Legacy
If you want to dive into this without feeling like you're supporting a monster, here’s the play:
- Watch with Context: When you see the tension in Autumn Sonata, realize that the director might have been fueling that fire with real-world manipulation.
- Read the Memoir: Get a copy of The Magic Lantern. It’s a fascinating, if sometimes self-serving, look at how a person becomes that way.
- Support the Survivors: Look into the careers of the "Bergman Troupe"—Liv Ullmann, Max von Sydow, Bibi Andersson. See how they flourished (or struggled) outside his orbit.
Ultimately, Stellan Skarsgård’s "complicated relationship" with Bergman is a lesson in boundaries. You can respect the work without worshipping the man. You can be a world-class actor and still decide that some "geniuses" just aren't worth the trouble.
If you're interested in the darker side of film history, you should check out the latest interviews from the 2025 Karlovy Vary festival for the full context of Skarsgård's comments.