#the baby carriage

[randomrichards]

THE BABY CARRIAGE:

To a jazzy tune

Woman begins hard journey

When she get pregnant

[lonesomedreamereccentriclover]

On August 22nd, The @criterioncollection are releasing a Collection of Swedish filmmaker Bo Widerberg’s grandest works on DVD and blu-ray!

Bo Widerberg’s New Swedish Cinema

Driven by a desire to forge a socially conscious Swedish cinema—one that broke with the inward-looking psychodrama of Ingmar Bergman to give dynamic expression to the everyday experiences of working-class Swedes—writer Bo Widerberg turned to filmmaking in the early 1960s, realizing his ambition in politically committed yet poetic works that merge social-realist themes with a refined, often breathtakingly beautiful visual sensibility. Dramatizing the struggles of ordinary people fighting to chart their own destiny, these four acclaimed, popular, and pivotal films from Widerberg’s most prolific period live and breathe with a rare vitality—and helped launch a new Swedish cinema.

FILMS IN THIS SET

The Baby Carriage

Raven’s End

Elvira Madigan

Ådalen 31

SPECIAL FEATURES

New restorations, with uncompressed monaural soundtracks

New introduction to director Bo Widerberg by filmmaker Ruben Östlund

New interviews with actor Tommy Berggren and cinematographer Jörgen Persson

The Boy and the Kite (1962), a short film by Widerberg and Jan Troell, with an introduction by Troell

Swedish television interviews with Widerberg from the 1960s

Behind-the-scenes footage from the making of Elvira Madigan

PLUS: An essay by film historian Peter Cowie and excerpts by Widerberg from his 1962 book Vision in Swedish Film

New cover by Eric Skillman

[shiftythrifting]

Behold: Seashells glued to shit, the most British chair ever, old baby carriage, crayon calculator, and custom Halloween decor from @malleus-md-draconia

[thatsbelievable]

[newyorkthegoldenage]

A peaceful scene in Brooklyn's Brower Park, September 28, 1941.

Photo: NYC Parks Dep't

[thepastisalreadywritten]

Designed a hundred years ago (1924 — 2024). 🚲👶

[asmilinghopelessromantic]

I'm so happy the new Lord Featherington was able to attend his parents' wedding.

[littleblackraincloudofcourse]

Luke and Ryan both used "to the core" describing the closeness of their relationships (Polin and Buddie)

Nicola and Oliver both said they had natural chemistry with their co-star (Nicola saying they stopped repressing it, Oliver saying they just let it flow)

Now 911 is posting bees for next season!What in the friends-to-lovers is going on!!

[thefabulousfab-3]

People acting like Penelope purposely tricked Colin into proposing to her are really starting to piss me off.

[bisexualfemalemess]

He’s literally leaning down y’all and still taller than her. She’s two apples tall 🥺🥺🥺🥺

[mrs-trophy-wife]

[bethnoir-fic]

Give rockstar Lestat a french bulldog.

[manicpixiedepressedwitch]

mother said it’s time for the yeehaw agenda

[newyorkthegoldenage]

The Napolitana Kitchen on West 4th St., 1947.

Photo: Berenice Abbott via issuu.com

[timetravelphotobooth]

Puppies In Baby Carriages, NYC (1942)

Photography by Weegee

[elderberries-and-honey]

Winifred had been right to suspect that once the dog days of summer arrived, their quaint neighborhood would begin to fill out. The once peaceful, empty streets were now humming with life; as if the glittering morning dew frosting over each day had beckoned them all back home.

You could not go more than a few hours without hearing a horse’s steady gallop hauling a carriage, or sometimes, even the sound of a rare streetcar.

Lawrence was particularly pleased by this fact, anxious to get to know the families around the neighborhood, but Winifred herself was not quite as keen. She had liked the quiet of their solitude, and it felt almost like an invasion of privacy not to have it anymore.

However, much like their new seemingly sophisticated life, it was just something she would have to adjust to. These days, everything felt like something she just needed adjusting to.

And, now that autumn was just around the corner, their lives had somehow become busier than ever before; their days spent together at the lake felt years behind them rather than only a few weeks.

In the afternoon, Beth and Winifred attended painting lessons together; a gift from Lawrence to them both. Their instructor was a soft-spoken, well traveled Frenchman, teaching impressionism and neoclassicism.

Personally, Winifred thought he was a little overqualified to be teaching a skill of his caliber to a housewife and a widow, neither of whom had much experience in the arts, but she was trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. After all, it had been a thoughtful gesture and she wanted to appreciate it nonetheless.

Despite not having the experience though, out of the two of them, Beth was notably more skilled; their instructor often awed by her work. More than once, she could hear his tone vibrating with excitement, almost bursting at the seam as he complimented her use of different brush strokes, much to Winifred’s envy.

Her mother, Alice, was always a natural at painting; as a girl, she loved to sit at her mother's feet whenever she stepped in front of a canvas, and watch as she transformed even the most mundane of landscapes into elaborate works of art. She regularly wished she would have inherited her aptitude for it, but it appeared that she was much better with a pen than a paint brush.

Even the little ones had busy schedules now that summer was on its deathbed. Lawrence had hired two nursery maids, one for each of the boys; it was the only service he had not taken care of before they arrived at their new home. He wanted them to be the perfect fit, and it seemed he had accomplished the seemingly impossible.

Ozzy now spent most of his days with Ms. Hamilton; a woman only a few years Winifred's senior but with the sweetness and patience of one's old Nana. Ozzy warmed up to her quicker than anyone could have expected and their daily lessons seemed to be paying off. She taught him shapes and letters (of which he was quite fond of), along with all the manners that a well-adjusted young man should know (he was not quite so fond of this), and even how to begin writing his own name.

Every so often, when Winifred went to check-in on their little classroom, she would once again be overcome by a similar feeling of envy. She didn't want her children to struggle, not at all; each time she felt it, she would call herself a silly woman for being jealous of a toddler and be on her way, scolding herself for the thoughts that echoed in her head.

But, it was just that, well, they'd all adjusted so quickly! All of them were getting on with things just fine, while she could hardly make sense of it all!

Did no one else think this strange? Didn't they miss their chickens, or long to watch the sunset over the hillside, or even the flower paths on their way into town? And what about their friends, or their beloved shopkeepers who memorized all their names?

It was as if they'd all somehow forgotten the first place she could ever truly call home; and if she couldn't find the will to adjust, would they all wish they could simply forget her too?

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