Ingmar Bergman and Lars Norén had one thing in common that they often developed a severe allergy to journalists. At one of his last press meetings, at Filmhuset, Bergman became so angry that he stormed out in frustration on clattering heels. If he had a drink, he would have thrown it in the journalists’ faces first. Not until Kleveland, the Film Institute’s CEO and used to prima donnas, comforted and flattered the genius for about half an hour did he reluctantly return.
With Norén, now very current with the SVT drama “The Pain Point†, I remember a press conference so suspiciously clearly that my memory may very well have found the middle.
The Big One sat at the podium, uncomfortable as if someone had forced into him a can of viper that by a good margin passed the best-before date. Or as a WC finalist hungover. He was glowing with contempt.
And the journalists? In a way, we bought The Magnificent’s picture of the situation. We felt unworthy. Scratched his foot, shrunk in his chair, ashamed at the mere thought that El Gigante had to breathe our exhaled air. Every single question seemed to begin with an apology: “I, unworthy, have had the pleasure of interpreting your latest book in this way, but surely I am completely wrong?â€
A grunted reply confirmed: It was wrong.
But then, in the middle of journalistic hell, a female voice was heard from the far back of the room: “Lasse! Lasse! Are you still lubbing?â€
The Eiffel Tower of Swedish Drama was shaken. He shaded his eyes with his hand. Who? How? What was the question?
The same woman again: “Yes, but Lasse! I remember when we lived close to each other in östermalm. You used to bump past me on the sidewalk. Don’t you remember? Are you still lubbing?â€
I don’t remember the ending. Not if Gåvan Till Poesikonsten confirmed that yes, he still used to jog Erik Dahlbergsallén in his shiny tracksuit.
What I remember is that I was close to proposing to this woman, so unconcerned by the seriousness and the smell of flour that characterized the meeting of the free press with an unhealthy celebrated litterateur.
Read more cheese series by Helmerson, for example about aircraft engines exploding on take-off
