Bo Widerberg’s “Elvira Madigan” is often recalled as the “most beautiful” film ever made. If one is limiting the observation to it’s visual elements alone, there is much merit to such ethereal claims, as the cinematography of Jörgen Persson has a diffuse elegance, seducing the eye with burnished yellows, browns and greens which blend into often breathtakingly pastoral spectrums. “Elvira Madigan” is also recalled as being a beautiful film that is painstakingly superficial in it’s depiction of romantic longeur and the doomed path taken by it’s shallow protagonists. Much of this criticism was leveled due to the extraordinary level of attractiveness of the film seen as a substitution for narrative substance; a visual ravishment that more often than not seemed at odds with the physical degeneration of the characters. In a nutshell, it was too good looking to be taken seriously.
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