"Lovedoesn't ask us to be sensible," Gösta Ekman says to IngridBergman in Intermezzo, and luckily, neither do films like this. The filmthat put Bergman in David O. Selznick's sights (he signed her to MGMafter one viewing), Intermezzo is a must for lovers of AbsoluteMelodrama, with all its nuances. The story is of a budding youngpianist, Anita Hoffman (Bergman), who is swept off her feet by arenowned concert violinist, Holger Brandt (Ekman), the father of one ofher pupils. Their first duet is positively indecent; the first of manymusical moments directed by Gustaf Molander as passionate love scenes(later, "You've never played better than tonight, maestro"),this one is performed in front of Holger's family. Throughout the filma jilted mother and daughter are framed suggestively as one ("Daddyisn't playing for us anymore"). For his part, matinee idol Ekman istoo much of a good thing, with his bedroom eyes that look as if hehasn't slept in months, but Bergman already evinces the inner conflictbetween passion and decorum, urgency and aplomb that would define herscreen persona. Their courtship/concert-tour is told in film languagerun rampant (torrid kisses superimposed over moving trains), but thereis something magical about the fake little Tyrolean village where it allstops. It is there that Bergman, who has fielded such lines as,"It's coming: the spring storm," with unquestioning grace, hasher moment of heart-stopping honesty. "A human being onlyexperiences such happiness once" is the running gag-but she knowsthat Holger, as a man, will have had it twice.