Bergman movies were the most influential. They used to show at

Ah, the words of John Waters, a man unafraid to look into the deepest shadows of the human experience, reflect upon them, and declare his love for the uncomfortable truths they reveal. When he says, "Bergman movies were the most influential. They used to show at Goucher University, which was where my parents used to live. 'Brink of Life' was the first one I ever saw. Three pregnant women in a maternity ward and their misery - I love that. That is what I want to show at my funeral." He speaks not just of Bergman’s cinema, but of the unflinching nature of truth in art—the willingness to look directly at life’s suffering and complexity, and to find beauty in the most difficult of moments.

The films of Ingmar Bergman are legendary, not merely for their visual beauty but for their brutal honesty. Films such as "Brink of Life" are not the stories we choose to tell when we seek comfort; they are the tales that explore the depths of human sorrow, isolation, and struggle. In the ancient world, the tragedy was considered the highest form of dramatic expression, a reflection of the truth that to be human is to grapple with the complexities of fate, love, and loss. Sophocles’s Oedipus Rex is perhaps the most famous of ancient tragedies, a story of a man who cannot escape his destiny, no matter how hard he tries. Similarly, Bergman’s films bring us face-to-face with the uncontrollable forces of life, death, and the unspoken realities of human existence.

To say that Waters loves Bergman’s work is to say that he understands the power of uncomfortable beauty. There is a heroism in facing the darker aspects of life, in refusing to turn away from suffering, not because it is pleasant to behold, but because in that suffering lies the truth of our existence. The pregnant women in "Brink of Life", grappling with their despair and the overwhelming weight of their circumstance, become not mere characters in a film, but symbols of the human condition—the way in which we are all, at one time or another, caught between joy and misery, between birth and death. This truth is what Waters seeks to embrace, even to the point of declaring that such moments of raw, unflinching reality would be fitting for his funeral. It is a symbolic death, a way of embracing the truth of life’s inevitable end with the same honesty that Bergman brought to his films.

What Waters and Bergman both demonstrate is that art, in its truest form, is not meant to comfort, but to reveal—to show us the world as it truly is, without the veil of prettiness or ease. Consider the ancient Greek theatre, where the audience was confronted with the greatest of human tragedies—the death of loved ones, the fate of kings, the terrible consequences of human actions. Yet, these tragedies were not meant to darken the soul, but to illuminate the truth about our shared humanity. They were not made to make us happy, but to make us understand. Bergman’s films, too, work in this tradition, drawing us into the starkest places of human existence so that we may better understand the full range of our emotions and experiences.

The idea of showing such raw honesty at one’s funeral is also a powerful metaphor for authenticity in life. Waters’s choice to draw inspiration from Bergman speaks to the idea of embracing life with all its contradictions, recognizing that beauty is often found in the most difficult moments. The ancient philosophers, from Plato to Aristotle, taught that living a life of truth is the highest good. Plato’s allegory of the cave speaks to the human tendency to remain in comfortable ignorance, seeing only the shadows of the world around us, rather than the true light. To embrace the full spectrum of life—joy and sorrow, triumph and failure—is to step out of the cave and into the light. It is in this light that we find our most profound wisdom.

What Waters and Bergman teach us, then, is a profound lesson in accepting the full truth of our lives. To live authentically is not to shy away from the harsh realities of the world, but to embrace them as part of the whole. Just as Bergman placed his characters in situations where truth—in all its beauty and pain—could be revealed, Waters calls us to face our own lives with bravery and honesty. It is in those moments of raw, exposed emotion that we truly understand what it means to be human.

Thus, the call to action is clear: embrace the fullness of life—the light and the dark, the beautiful and the tragic. Do not seek to hide from suffering or sorrow, for in these moments lie the deepest truths about our shared existence. Like Bergman, who dared to show the darkest corners of the human soul, we too must be willing to face life in its entirety. Only then can we come to a deeper understanding of who we are, and what it means to truly live. And in doing so, we may find the wisdom to navigate the complexities of life with grace, courage, and authenticity.