Unlike some of his fellow auteurs, who have enjoyed a steady flow of new releases, Ingmar Bergman's films have been slow arriving to DVD. To date, only five of his films have made it to the new medium, each through the Criterion Collection. The slow pace has paid off, as every one of these releases is top-notch. This latest is the best treatment of a Bergman film to date.

Wild Strawberries centers around retired doctor Isak Borg (played by silent-film director Victor Sjöström), and begins the night before he is scheduled to fly to Lund and receive an honourary degree. When he wakens from an unsettling dream, he decides to travel by car; his estranged daughter-in-law (in a multilayered performance by Ingrid Thulin) volunteers to make the trip with him. Like The Seventh Seal, also released in 1957, Wild Strawberries takes the form of a road movie and features a protagonist grappling with an intense fear of death. The focus of these fears in Wild Strawberries, however, is very different. In The Seventh Seal, Antonius Block struggles with an obsessive need to find a meaning to existence, which for him necessitates the presence of a divine and benevolent power. He fears death only because he does not have the assurance that such a power exists. Wild Strawberries offers us a more humanistic view of life, where the individual creates meaning for him or herself. This view is not without its own problems: for Borg, the overriding fear is that in death his life will be judged and be found lacking.

This concern is introduced almost immediately in the opening dream sequence, a five-minute scene that has become one of the most famous of Bergman's career.

The lush strains of Erik Nordgren's score, still lingering from the credits, fade to absolute silence punctuated by a heartbeat, and Borg finds himself alone in a deserted street. Looking up, he is confronted by a clock without hands, a looming symbol of death that will follow him throughout the film. But sharing the frame with this striking image is another of equal importance. Beneath the clock is a pair of disembodied eyes, wide-open and lidless. Borg is unable to meet their gaze and looks away. The dream ends with Borg being confronted by his mirror image, rising from a coffin to pull him in. While the eyes of his twin open wider as they approach Borg, his own eyes squint shut, and he does not open his eyes even after he awakens from this nightmare. This theme builds to a crescendo until Borg's final "humiliating" dream, where he is forced to account for his life in front of a jury of his friends, family, and acquaintances, all of whom stare at him with unblinking and unforgiving expressions. Finally, his childhood sweetheart forces him to look at his own reflection in a mirror, where he is unable to avoid his own gaze.

The new DVD format has done wonders for this film. The subtitles have been drastically improved from previous video releases, and Criterion has done an excellent job of removing all traces of scratches and dirt; the transfer we are left with is nearly pristine. The sharper contrasts are especially effective in the opening dream sequence, where the palate of grays that colors the precredit sequence shifts abruptly to a scene dominated by harsh, piercing whites. In the absence of tape hiss, Erik Nordgren's beautifully understated score plays an excellent supporting role.

Also included are an audio commentary track by Bergman scholar Peter Cowie and a ninety-minute documentary comprised mainly of an extended 1998 interview with Bergman. Cowie's commentary is informative and engaging, striking a good balance between gossipy, behind-the-scenes anecdotes and a more scholarly exploration of the film's iconography. His only noticeable stumble occurs near the beginning, when he tries to defend Bergman from critics who accuse his films of having "a feudal outlook towards servants." Cowie counters this by arguing, "but in fact these faithful old retainers...are just affectionate portraits. They're not to be confused with major characters, integrated into the themes of his work." This seems exactly the point of the criticism he attempts to refute. Still, this is one of the better commentary tracks the medium has to offer.

As with most of Bergman's films, Wild Strawberries contains many autobiographical elements. Consequently, the documentary, Ingmar Bergman: On Life and Work, provides an interesting companion. It's hard not to think of Borg's nonexistent relationship with his son when Bergman confesses that he doesn't know the exact age of any of his children, Like Borg, Bergman has often said that he considers himself much more successful at his profession than as a human being; he drives this point home when he tells interviewer Jörn Donner that most of the events in his life are a blur, and he can put them into chronological order only by relating them to which film or play he was working on at the time. And while Bergman claims to have exorcised his fear of death through The Seventh Seal, he demonstrates a continued affinity with Isak Borg's fear of judgment. Bergman admits that there is still a fear that follows him to every rehearsal, describing it as "an anxiety that what I do won't live."

For those already familiar with Bergman's work, this DVD will feel like a reunion with an old friend. For those relatively new to his films, Wild Strawberries is accessible and introduces many of the director's favourite themes, and the extra features provide useful signposts for the journey. In any case, Criterion's release gives this excellent and important film the respectful treatment it deserves.

Brandon Grafius is a freelance writer in Northern California currently finishing his first novel.