“This time around, with the recent passing of Bergman haunting the edges of my mind, I couldn’t help but feel that this sequence demonstrates exactly what happens in many of Bergman’s best films—that is, that breathless moment where the whole film shifts and we’re confronted with a character’s jagged, naked emotions and almost more than the characters themselves, we as the viewers struggle to come to grips with the ramifications of this sudden outpouring of emotion.” In light of Rosenbaum’s hatchet job on Bergman in the NYT op-ed section, we could use a thorough analysis on behalf of the artistic qualities of these moments that you describe here. I’ve long subscribed to the dismissive evaluation of Bergman’s emotional nakedness as artlessness, but surely there it’s not the same as someone posting their confessionals on YouTube — is it? what interests me is this moment you’re getting at, when the veneer of social etiquette melts away and something nakedly honest and uncouched in “art” comes forth. I wonder if there’s a concurrent “cinematic etiquette” that’s being pushed aside as well.