Carl Theodor Dreyer and Ordet: My Summer with the Danish Filmmaker

Chapter 12. Did they catch the ferry?

Ebba Dreyer cooked a terrific meal the next Sunday before I left Denmark. Goose, actually. I hope not from Vedersø. Herr Dreyer made it clear that for all studio scenes he must work in isolation, and I recognized it was prudent for me to accept the scholarship at the University of Michigan. I was loath to take leave of the Dreyers—the end to the evening was poignant. I describe the finale in my book Through a Lens Darkly. I returned to Copenhagen by bus and by ferryboat. The latter crossing reminded me of the short film by Dreyer I admire the most. Therefore, Ebbe Neergaard of Statens Filmcentral arranged for me to watch it once more before I left the country. Did they catch the ferry? 12 Carl Theodor Dreyer and Ordet 92 In 1948, it was proposed that Dreyer direct a one-reel film concerning road safety. They Caught the Ferry is only twelve minutes in length, an impressive, eye-catching spine tingler. His sponsors were given more than they bargained for. He took the idea from a story by the Danish Nobel Prize winner Johannes V. Jensen. They Caught the Ferry doesn’t require music, and it gives an impression of one breathless fatal ride. A ferryboat is seen—a motorcyclist and his girlfriend depart. The man inquires as to when the next ferry on the other side of the island will leave; he’s informed that he can’t make it, there’s not enough time. Nevertheless, he is determined and speeds off, the lady clinging on for dear life. Dreyer’s camera races with him, sometimes lagging behind . The motorcyclist takes chances, darting in and out of traffic—on the open road he is possessed—leaning forward on the handlebars, every muscle strained. He whizzes heedlessly along toward destiny. It is necessary to stop for gas. He checks his watch. They may make it after all. So the motorcycle hurries away, his passenger begging him to take care. She is frightened—clasping him tighter and tighter. He goes faster. An odd-shaped speeding vehicle looms up ahead out of nowhere, blocking the horizon. If the motorcyclist swerves to the left to pass, the other vehicle deliberately does also. If he swerves to the right, it does the same. At last, the motorcyclist catches up: they are neck and neck. The man turns to glance beside him—a hearse, painted white, with Death itself steering. Did they catch the ferry? 93 The motorcycle flies off the road—a crash. They catch the ferry. A muffled drumbeat: Charon carries two plain white coffins across the water. Jeanne Heimburger, a beautiful woman I knew from the Educational Foundation, my connection while I was studying in Denmark, told me, after she viewed They Caught the Ferry, “I couldn’t touch my car for a week. When I finally did, I drove just twenty miles an hour.” In this black-and-white short, Dreyer creates a milieu to pull you in. And you can’t escape: this is Dreyer in a nutshell . If, by the close of The Word, he wants you to believe in miracles, you will. You can’t help it. Dreyer first viewed D. W. Griffith’s Intolerance as a young man in 1916. To this day, it remains a staggering display of massive architecture, tremendous crowds (all real—no digital fakery or Schüfftan process), a huge creation crying out against Tyranny and Injustice—an experiment employing new devices of cutting, framing, angles, inventing techniques as needed. According to Dreyer’s own words, “I went home completely dazed, overwhelmed by a new rhythm and the number of close-ups. In particular those of Lillian Gish at the conclusion.” On that night, Dreyer became aware of how far one might aim in the medium. His method, ever since, was rooted in the possibility to isolate, narrow down, penetrate into, pierce, and magnify. It became not only the means but also the philosophy. Burrowing his way straight inside, he cuts Carl Theodor Dreyer and Ordet 94 through layer after layer until he consigns the individual to soul and to God. “We are alone,” was his credo. “We exist and suffer alone. We can only know, to our fullest extent, what we feel. Most important is the triumph of the soul—incorruption against evil, cant, lies.” As I packed my bag, I...