The Monastery of Sendomir : Suspense with Simplicity

A year before his most acclaimed and highly influential film, The Phantom Carriage, and long before he played the lead protagonist in Ingmar Bergman’s Wild Strawberries (uniting professor with protégé), Swedish director Victor Sjöström crafted this brilliant silent feature from 1920, The Monastery of Sendomir (sometimes titled Secret of the Monastery). The premise of the film is an incredibly simple one and almost plays out like an old fable or urban legend throughout its brief running time of 54 minutes: a cantankerous monk offers refuge to a group of weary travelers within his monastery and shares a story of the monastery’s owner and his wife. What begins as, what appears to be at least, a horror film about spirits or haunted castles turns into something far more terrifying – involving the morality of humans.

Though the story is brief and told almost like an extensive anecdote or campfire tale, Sjöström manages to capture a variety of emotions within a short period of time. His film bears a heavy burden of intensity that looms over each frame like a dark cloud, which perhaps could explain why the film feels so much like a horror film of its time. The wonderful lighting and photography of Henrik Jaenzon certainly aids in crafting an eerie and troubling atmosphere, at times (at least for a modern viewer) reminding me of Frankenstein or Dracula of years later.

Even without any music to accompany the film (unfortunately, at least with the video I saw on YouTube), Sjöström still manages to create a truly compelling picture thanks to his genuine care for his remarkably engaging characters as well as his careful dedication to tell the story in the exact amount of time it requires. There is little time wasted on unnecessary subplots or attempting to maneuver back and forth between past and present as the monk tells his tale; instead Sjöström allows the film to breathe naturally as the intensity builds to an exceptionally thrilling climax.

On top of the wonderful atmospherics of Sjostrom’s profound eye, the cast actually lends a hand to create incredibly full-bodied characters. Though I have never seen or heard of any of the actors involved (I happen to be severely uneducated in too many foreign films, hence my odyssey through film), they all happen to provide excellent performances all around and fill me with excitement about seeing any future work from them. In particular, the lead protagonist of the Count played by Tore Svennberg is a fully lived-in performance that I have yet to see such dedication to during this decade (from a dramatic standpoint anyhow). As the intensity of the film builds and builds, he only becomes more inhabited within the character’s fear, anger, and anguish.

The stand-out, however, has to be Tora Teje (pictured left) as his wife, Elga. Though she appears to be the simple, naïve trophy of a rich Count, there is actually something more devious to her than we see, and she provides so many layers to a performance that never required many at all. In doing so, it only makes the character and the story feel more realistic for a time so long ago.

All I can say is that if Victor Sjöström could manage that much suspense and emotion with such little time and no music, I cannot wait to see what wonders await with his popular Phantom Carriage. Yes, yes, I know; I haven’t seen it yet. And crazy considering so many directors – particularly Ingmar Bergman and Stanley Kubrick – have been influenced by the film and his work, but maybe that’s the reason going back to your roots is so helpful sometimes. If we are influenced by the greats, then who were they influenced by? Of course, if Victor Sjöström’s Monastery of Sendomir is any example of his influential power, then it would certainly make a whole hell of a lot of sense.

9.5/10