There is art. There is pretentious art. And then there is Ingmar Bergman.

Ack! Bergman's "The Seventh Seal" was on TCM last night, featuring the non-union Swedish equivalent of Uncle Fester (Click on the light bulb for a cheap thrill.) as Death himself. There wasn't a marine mammal in sight.

All of his movies seem to be the most boring sort of intellectualoid nonsense and mental masturbation until you realize Bergman was nothing but a third rate joker. He used his cinematic parlor tricks to dazzle the easily dazzled - usually critics trying to advance a political agenda - and was proclaimed a genius.

If you look at Bergman's oeuvre properly, and don't take them as anything other than the screwball comedies they are, you can actually sit through one about every other month without falling asleep or disconnecting your cable and reading a good book.

If you still can't stand to watch them, and you are a hot USC coed taking a dopey elective film class who must, there is one other option that may work...

Not that I am promoting drug use, kiddies, but all Bergman films are infinitely better if you watch them while stoned.