Terror shines in Ardalan Esmaili's eyes as he rushes panting across the courtyard with his laptop in hand. His traumatized character, the writer David, has just had a mental breakdown after making the shocking discovery that Fårö's old cinema operator Lindhorst met a terrible fate after provoking Ingmar Bergman's "demons". That's how the world-renowned director called the dark forces of shame, fear, desire and obsession that both fueled his creation and threatened to destroy whoever unleashed them.
In total panic, David rushes on towards his printer's house but stops short. On the front door is a handwritten note with a final greeting: "Get out of here while you can. In all good intentions / Lindhorst."
- Thank you, nice! Good speed, Ardalan! Good fucking schwung in it! says director Gustaf Skarsgård, who is making his feature film debut, in a beanie hat with the text "Bristande vandel".
He looks up from his wireless monitor that hangs like a millstone around his neck:
- We can manage there, I think. Just a pick up, he says to the Finnish photographer Max Smeds, who will supplement by reshooting part of the scene.
As the film crew begins to prepare scene 130, the screenwriter broods in the background:
- I have probably never pushed a character harder than David. But script guru Robert McKee says you should always keep your characters on their toes, smiles Peter Birro in blue jeans and rubber boots.
Although the sights are set on the red carpet in Cannes, the glamor factor of the film crew is low. The farm layout at Nystugugård is rather reminiscent of a pop-up fair for outdoor clothing. The main character pulls on a gray fleece sweater and a black "mommy sausage" as he tries to calm down after all the panic attacks.
- This film is batshit crazy - for real! laughs Ardalan Esmaili before getting ready for the next take.
When Filmfredag comes to visit, it's shooting day 24 for "The Cannibal on Fårö". A few hours earlier, the photographer Karl Melander and I traveled north from the Visby region towards Fårösund. Just before arriving at the ferry stop, I tell Peter Birro that we are taking the 10 ferry. I wonder how the demons are doing and sign as Max von Sydow's homecoming knight in "The Seventh Seal": "Help is on the way! Mvh, Antonius Block."
Birro is immediately on board and replies as Block's battle-weary gunner: "We are outnumbered so far, but we are holding our positions – except at Dämba, where we have been forced to retreat. Kind regards, Jöns."
When we meet at Fårö church, it is eerily quiet. The view is stunningly beautiful with rolling hills and sun glints in the sea. We stop at the cemetery where Ingmar and his wife Ingrid Bergman rest side by side. Behind the tombstone stands a lantern with a battery-operated white plastic candle from All Saints' Day that has gone out.
- I think you feel Bergman's presence all the time. But so far his demons have been kind to us, Peter Birro smiles before taking us deeper into Bergmanland.
It is easy to understand that the then 41-year-old Bergman fell in love at first sight when he came to Fårö for the first time in April 1960: "If you want to be solemn, you can say that I had found my home, my real home. If you want to be funny, you can talk about love at first sight", he writes in the autobiography "Laterna magica".
Ingmar Bergman quickly made Fårö his own world. The barren, barren and silent landscape became part of his psychogeography – an external environment that seemed to mirror his inner self. Here he created classics such as "Persona", "Vargtimmen" and "Såsom i en spegel", a trio that also constitutes the most important source of inspiration for "The Cannibal on Fårö", a sea-wild meta-horror film in which Bergman references abound. Among other things, Peter Birro has had fun naming characters after characters in "Hour of the Wolf" with surnames such as Vergerus, von Merkens, Vogler, Lindhorst and Heerbrandt.
Peter Birro has been carrying the idea ever since 1997, when he received the Bergman prize for his series "Hammarkullen" and at Bergman's house was introduced to the demon theory that would stick.
- Ingmar told me that it's the demons you wrestle with when you write, Birro says and imitates him: "That's all you're ashamed of, serru. All the crap and everything that scares the crap out of you. But you have to use it. But demons can be dangerous. That's why I keep mine here."
Then Bergman pointed to the freezer and explained that he took them out a few hours a day when he was writing. But when they started to thaw, they became dangerous - then he had to stop, says Birro.
The scene in Bergman's kitchen became a kind of creative primal scene for the young screenwriter that he has never been able to let go of.
- So I asked myself: What the hell would happen if Bergman's demons came out? says Peter Birro, who got goosebumps when they shot scenes in the same kitchen where he hung out with Bergman almost thirty years ago.
Birro is behind acclaimed television series such as "Upp till kamp" and "The New Country", as well as films such as "Monica Z" and "438 days". But "The Cannibal on Fårö" seems to be the most lustful thing he ever wrote. As a Bergman fan, his eyes light up when he talks about his fascination with the man who sparked his lifelong love of film. He tells about how, as an 8-year-old, he hid behind the TV couch to sneak a peek at "Smultronstället" behind his parents' backs. The famous nightmare sequence, where Victor Sjöström saw himself in a coffin, terrified him.
- Even though it ruined my night's sleep for years, it was pure magic. It was there and then that my fascination with the power of film was born, for its ability to evoke such strong emotions, he says.
As a young screenwriter, he felt the lure of being invited into Bergman's force field.
- It will be like love. He takes you by the hand and then he walks away with you. And then he says: "You and I are the same". Since then, people have understood that there is another, darker, side to this as well. But I didn't see that then, says Peter Birro.
Many years later, Birro would return to Fårö to write screenplays as a Bergman scholarship holder - only to get stuck himself after the master's death.
- When I was here and sat in Bergman's study, I thought that the writing would happen by itself. But of course it didn't - it was as if I felt his spirit muttering over my shoulder, says Birro.
As if by chance, the fictional author of "The Cannibal on Fårö" shares many experiences with Peter Birro. Also the author David in "The Cannibal on Fårö" is traumatized after seeing "Smultronstället" as an 8-year-old, he got to meet his directing idol on Fårö and later returns to the island as a Bergman scholarship holder - only to suffer from writer's cramp.
But where Birro ran into the shadow of the dead champion, David's blocking turns into something far darker. The meeting with Ingmar Bergman in 2006 takes over his life and grows into an obsession that he cannot shake off. Twenty years later, all hell breaks loose when he returns to Fårö to write a film script after his directing hero dies.
In an attempt to deal with his own ghosts from the past, he discovers an evil presence that forces him to confront the ghost of the master (Claes Ljungmark) who is backed by a cult-like but frighteningly friendly Bergman Society.
- Bergman's shadow is huge in Swedish culture, and the film is also a way to discuss his legacy. To be able to talk to and about him, you almost have to first lift him off the pedestal. I wanted to make a playful horror film with a big theme. When horror is at its best, it is dark, uncompromising and emotionally strong, says Peter Birro.
In addition to Bergman's own films, he has, among other things, taken inspiration from the writing cramp thriller "The Shining", the socially satirical psycho-thriller "Get out" and the supernatural horror film "Talk to me", where young people contact the dead through a mysterious embalmed hand. Birro has borrowed the title from Bergman himself, who described the artist as a cannibal – a figure who lives by consuming his surroundings and ultimately also himself.
- Although "The Cannibal on Fårö" is specifically about Bergman, it also touches on a larger question about the cult of genius. How do we deal with people who create masterpieces but behave badly? The authoritarian man of culture feels completely out of fashion, but the works are still there. That's what's difficult, and it's an important discussion to have – a genius has no right to treat others anyway, says Peter Birro.
For revolving around obsessive demons, writing cramp and artistic obsession, the recording of "Kannibalen på Fårö" is strangely cheerful, harmonious and unneurotic. It's a well-oiled machine where everyone knows what to do, and Gustaf Skarsgård radiates a calmness that rubs off on the entire team.
Unlike his screenwriter, he has never been a Bergman geek. On the contrary, Bergman was rather something of a horror figure for the young Gustaf Skarsgård. His father Stellan, who himself had a complicated relationship with the master, used Bergman as a cautionary example to get his notoriously late son to meet the times. "If you came a minute late to a Bergman rehearsal, you were fired."
- Dad, who himself has a hard time with authority figures, gave me advice that has shaped both my acting and my view of people. His way of putting up with Bergman's bullying was to see the child in him. I carry that realization – that in every destructive person there is a wounded child – into this film, which is both a tribute and a sacrilege, says Gustaf Skarsgård after a very late vegetarian lunch in Fårö village hall.
Outside, dusk is already falling and the film crew is in full swing setting up for the evening's filming. A huge skylift is maneuvered into place, ready to hoist up the large lighting rig that will illuminate the dark courtyard.
- The closer I have gotten to Bergman, the more difficult it has become to judge him. He comes across as more of a badass character with many contradictions – funny, pitiful, manipulative and lovable all at the same time. And I recognize myself in his obsession, even if I no longer seriously believe that the whole world revolves around each recording, he smiles.
Gustaf Skarsgård and Peter Birro found each other during the work on "438 days". Birro first offered him the lead role in "Kannibalen på Fårö", but after many tours with different production companies, Skarsgård ended up being asked to direct instead. In addition to the wacky script, he was attracted to making horror films with meta elements.
- The horror genre is physiological; it's about controlling the nervous system to raise the pulse of the audience. As an actor, I know that part. I'm especially fond of films like "Jacobs inferno" that combine psychological horror with mythology, he says.
- Our film is somewhat in the same spirit as "Teenage sex and death at Camp Miasma". The liberating thing is to ignore the demand for originality, dare to borrow from others and make something of it your own. The hope is that both Bergman fans, cineastes and horror lovers will find something in the film. But it's not trying to pander to anyone – it's got a cockiness that says: this is what it is, think what you want, he says with a shrug.
Gustaf Skarsgård enlists the help of the old Russian theater teacher Konstantin Stanislavskij to explain why he was attached to Ardalan Esmaili in the lead role. The actor broke through in "The Charmer" and is perhaps best known from TV series such as "Helicopter Robbery" and "Fast cash".
- He is the type of actor who does that somersault that Stanislavsky talked about - he dares to bet everything and throw himself straight into the situation. And he doesn't hesitate to lie down in a gynecological chair if necessary, says Skarsgård with a clever grin.
A few minutes later, the director is busy inspecting when Ardalan Esmaili tries out an antique gynecologist's chair that reminds one of a medieval torture chamber rather than a medical clinic. Spoiler alert for how it will be used, but the sight says a lot about the tone of the film – grotesque, comical and deeply uncomfortable all at the same time.
- Even though it's not a pure comedy, it's been a long time since I laughed so much when I read a script. A bizarre mixture of surrealism and absurdism, but also scary like a feverish nightmare, says Ardalan Esmaili on his way out into the compact darkness for another evening session.
- Hopefully the film can open the door to Bergman for new generations who may not have discovered him and remind the rest of us of his incredible legacy. "The cannibal on Fårö" is a great way to revive the man.
