A complex dissection of a murder and a murderer, told by jumping back and forth in time, before and after the event, A deeply disturbing portrait of a man and a society so cut off from feeling that violence seems almost inevitable.

While more divided in public reaction then some of Bergman's most beloved works, I think this edgy, bold, uncomfortable film ranks close to some of his best work. While there are moments of pretension, there's also a lot of human and psychological complexity (and wonderful acting) in this bleak exploration of how near murder and madness lie to any of us.

Perhaps I'm biased as I am a great admirer of Ingmar Bergman, but I found myself both fascinated and impressed by From the Life of the Marionettes. Excepting All These Women, the only film(of those I've seen, which is a little over two-thirds) that I didn't care for, Bergman's films have ranged to solid to outstanding. From the Life of the Marionettes is not one his very finest, but it is one of the films of his that is close to outstanding. Apart from the I agree underdeveloped homosexual subplot, there is very little of the film to criticise. The production values could be seen as stark, but still sublime and even haunting and shot beautifully. Bergman directs superbly with his usual control and discipline, while the speeches are thoughtful and the structure consisting of drama, documentary, character study, flashback and dream sequences is constantly attention-grabbing and I didn't find myself confused by it. The characters could be seen as cold, but purposefully and there is the trademark compelling realism of Bergman's films here. There aren't Sweden's finest ever actors on board, but the acting is still very good. All in all, very undervalued Bergman with lots of interest value. 9/10 Bethany Cox

The story begins with the murder of a prostitute by a man who can find no happiness. He sees a psychiatrist who is more interested in bedding his wife than helping him. The man is hopelessly unhappy. The movie tries to understand his emotions and motivations but it is all bottled up inside him. His relationship to his wife is pure torment. The spar with one another. She gets pleasure out embarrassing him and then tries to make up. He is attached to his mother in a very Freudian way. We are put through a series of flashbacks and flash-forwards (is there such a thing) all scripted around the murder. It's hard to feel any compassion for the figures in this drama. Bergman could be so cynical about the human condition and this film, little known, carries on that direction. I guess, Marionettes have no personal will but are pulled by the strings of their indifferent masters. This film is not for the faint of heart.