Before the next Smackdown, Nick Taylor will be visiting some "alternates" to the Supporting Actress Ballot.

Existence, am I right? Being alive? Inhabiting a physical form and experiencing things until we inevitably pass from this mortal coil? Few filmmakers have captured the ache of true, unbearable unhappiness with oneself, with love, with God, with time, with humanity itself like Ingmar Bergman did.

Yes, he did more than just contemplative, psychologically precise, wholly accessible dramas, like the fantastical, expansive, occasionally harrowing depiction of childhood in Fanny and Alexander. Still, who would expect the auteur behind Through a Glass Darkly and Cries and Whispers (truly one of the most upsetting films to watch under self-isolated quarantine) to make a bedroom farce as light and entertaining as Smiles of a Summer Night? The sheer fact of Smiles is almost as surprising as the narrative, which artfully succeeds at being funny and sexy while wrapping itself around ideas of human behavior that fit neatly into Bergman’s filmography...

Still, the only thing more exciting than Bergman exploring new sides of his sensibilities is watching his otherworldly repertory cast strive to meet this challenge. In particular, I'm always thrilled to watch the gutsy, emotionally candid and physically communicative wonder known as Harriet Andersson. My favorite of Bergman's major players, and the only one I'd seen in multiple films before this, it was very easy for me to be excited about watching this godsend tear into a major comedic role.

Smiles of a Summer Night follows the romantic and sexual mishaps of several indelibly named individuals over the course of two days in 20th century Sweden. We first meet middle-aged lawyer Fredrik Egerman (Gunnar Björnstand), who has yet to consummate his marriage of two years with his much younger wife, Anne (Ulla Jacobsson). She’s reluctant to cross that bridge, though it doesn’t help to hear him moan the name of legendary actress Desiree Armfeldt (Eva Dahlbeck) in his sleep. Desiree is, coincidentally, the star of the play they will be attending that evening, and (unbeknownst to Anne) was Fredrik’s lover for two years after his first wife’s death until she kicked him out. They have very fond memories of their time together. Anne also has feelings for Henrik Egerman (Björn Bjelfvenstan), Fredrik’s son from his first marriage who is roughly her age, and who most people (including Fredrik) suspect will soon run off with her if Fredrik doesn’t get her into bed. Henrik himself harbors these thoughts, which he is trying and magnificently failing to temper by going full bore into priesthood, playing a healthy variety of instruments, and giving his virginity to Anne’s 18-year-old maid Petra (Harriet Andersson). Major side character include Desiree’s current booty call, the violently jealous Count Carl-Magnus Malcolm (Karl Julle), his unhappy wife Charlotte (Margit Carlqvist), and Desiree’s conspiratorial mother (Naima Wilfstrand).

That’s a lot of fucking around to keep track of, literally and figuratively, even before taking all the scheming and partner-swapping of the film's third act into consideration. Alliances are formed, marriages are threatened, and all sorts of things go off. Thankfully, Bergman’s measured writing and directing, his totally game cast, Oscar Rosander’s sharp pacing, and Gunnar Fisher’s exsquite photography ensure these plotlines are easy to track and delectable to watch. Smiles is patient enough to explore every character and the different sides of themselves that emerge in each particular pairing, and the ensemble rises to this challenge with great fun.

For the most part, Petra isn’t a major participant in the film’s grand plots and romantic duplicities. As much as she enjoys a nice game between lovers, she simply isn't interested in holding onto a man once the spark between them has faded - especially when there's so many other men out there for her to set her sights on, each one brimming with their own, unique potential. Petra is more than happy to help Henrik relieve those stymied tensions towards Anne, just as she’s down to give his father a couple once-overs and bow her head demurely whenever he addresses her, grinning like a cat the whole time. When Henrik chides her for being distracted while he tries to lecture about the susceptibility of virtue, she's forward with her thoughts and more or less reassures him he'll loosen up once he gets with the right girl. Andersson’s performance is defined by a self-awareness that’s completely unselfconscious, though she never conflates this with bawdy crudeness or working-class worldliness to further contrast herself with Henrik’s roiling insecurity and Anne’s virginal trepidation. She just knows who she is and what she wants.

In step with this self-awareness, Andersson plays Petra with an honesty that, more than any other quality, makes her a fascinating counterpart to almost everyone we meet in Smiles. Her philosophies on men and love hold such weight in part because she clearly means exactly what she’s saying, without taking herself more or less seriously than anyone else. Andersson carries this openness not just in word and thought, but also in her face and body language, walking with a swing in her hips no matter what she's doing. Be it her frequent teasing of Henrik or the pleasant, considerate stare she gives every man she meets, Andersson conveys the high base level of curiosity Petra holds for every member of the opposite sex without making her overly wanton (she's on the clock, you know). She's just as charmed by their attention and flattery as they are by hers, especially in regards to a swarthy servant of Desiree’s, whose stories about the history of Castle Armfeldt and a king’s affair with his advisor’s young wife makes her very curious about his considerable wit. Best of all might be her friendship with Anne, which stands as the only relationship in the film between two women not premised on fulfilling some romantic scheme. Who knows how much Anne heeds Petra's counsel about men, especially given how quickly she dismisses her fashion advice, but their shared laughter at the thought of how awful becoming a man would be ranks among the sweetest, most sincere moments of bonding in any Bergman film.

In short, Andersson delivers a fully rounded characterization within the stylized parameters of Smiles of a Summer Night while simultaneously distilling several of her film’s most distinct themes, something she’s managed to do in every single Bergman film lucky enough to have her. Petra holds a principled view of her own sexuality and sex in general that proves flexible in unexpected circumstances. She’s not prone to judge different outlooks on those same topics, nor is she interested in the judgments of others, though she’s willing to offer advice and poke fun as needed. Where others stumble through Smiles of a Summer Night content with performing their strange strategic maneuvers in order to be with the person of their dreams, it’s Petra who stands firm as a reminder that being into a guy does not have to be this fucking complicated. Sometimes you can contentedly hop from one person to the next, enjoying their company and ending things when they’re meant to end. Sometimes you can meet a handsome stranger, spend a day luxuriating in each other’s company, and see how far it leads you.