Ingmar Bergman, undoubtedly one of the greatest directors the cinema has produced, is also one of the most critically appreciated, analyzed, and assessed artists. There are dozens of works written about Bergman (not to mention a couple by him) available in English alone. So why another?

Marc Gervais, a professor of film and culture at Concordia University, and the author of a previous book on Pasolini, asks this very question in his introduction. His answer: that his book, for the first time, exhaustively explores Bergman’s engagement with western culture. As well, according to Gervais, it adds “fresh insight” into the “Bergman power and magic.”

Gervais does indeed move chronologically through Bergman’s career, presenting a précis of each film and television production, situating each within a global cultural context. As well, he occasionally offers fascinating information surrounding the production of the films. As for fresh insight, however, there is very little. Gervais’ analysis is often facile, vague, or muddled, and he seems to misunderstand or at least misuse concepts such as existentialism and deconstruction. The centrepiece of the book, a detailed formal investigation of a 10-minute sequence of The Seventh Seal, is relatively rewarding, but such work is better performed by the likes of Raymond Bellour and David Bordwell.

In addition, Gervais is far too awed by his subject – the book borders on hagiography. I lost track of how many times Bergman is described as brilliant. Gervais is critical of many of Bergman’s lesser films, but seems incapable of rendering that criticism without apology – as if he may offend the master.

The highest compliment one can pay a book about a filmmaker is that the book compels the reader to return to the films. Ingmar Bergman: Magician and Prophet does this. However, it’s not because of the power of Gervais’ writing, but because of the magic of Bergman’s filmmaking.