Film Review: “The Way of the Dream”

Newsletter, Vol. 13, No. 7, Spring 1988

A Film Presentation sponsored by The Montreal Centre for the Study of Dreams, March 5^th and 6^th, 1988.

Marie-Louise von Franz is a precious gem and in “The Way of the Dream” she shines brilliantly. Essentially this ten-hour (divided into twenty one half-hour segments) marathon film experience consists of a conversation between [Jungian analyst] Fraser Boa and von Franz in the intimacy of her consulting room in Kusnacht. The film is interspersed with interviews with several interesting and eccentric people from different countries around the world. From time to time, the film offers scenic views from these various lands, but the real action takes place in the consulting room where von Franz comments on and interprets these people’s dreams.

First I would like to comment that in its present format (a full weekend long) this film overtaxes to the point where it is almost impossible to process it in any intelligible fashion by the end of the weekend. Now, a week later, the experience itself has taken on the impression of an unreal dream fragment. However, rumour has it that the film is to be released as a series of videotapes some time in the future. It would be most valuable if each of these segments could be viewed singly followed by a discussion.

Last weekend, discussion breaks were scheduled and were welcome indeed, especially when Guy Corneau shared with us some entertaining anecdotes about von Franz with whom he was acquainted when he was training in Zurich. For example, he commented on when von Franz’s perennially present large bull dog, who from time to time became overly affectionate during a session, much to his dismay. Apparently, von Franz never ventured to call the dog off, but rather seemed to derive some mischievous pleasure watching Guy contend with the beast himself.

Despite the impossible length of it, the magic of this film lingers, and its special quality is mostly due to the power of von Franz’s personality. In her seventies now, she has the appearance of a gentle but sturdy grandmother, but her penetrating intellect and intuitive insight simply astound the viewer. She agrees with Jung that we tend to carry several personalities around in ourselves, and she admitted that at times she is the old peasant woman gardening and cooking in the kitchen; at other times, she is the scholar and, as she adds with a twinkle, she thoroughly enjoys playing the mischievous ten-year-old boy. All these characters reveal themselves in most charming ways at various points throughout the film.

The sequence of films began on Saturday with a general foundation of principles, then went on to a discussion of dreams of men, and ended with a segment on dreams of the dying. On Sunday, dreams of important figures of our culture were examined (e.g. Marilyn Monroe, Joseph of the many-coloured coat), followed by dreams of women, a few segments on relationships, and ending with a spectacular dream about how to interpret dreams. It is impossible to do justice in trying to describe the richness of these films, so I won’t even attempt to do so, but perhaps I could share with you a few points made by von Franz that touched me.

It is important to have others interpret our dreams since we cannot “see our own backs”; only others can. We need an objective point of view, even if it means asking opinions from the simplest of people.

In recording dreams leave one half of the page free, so that you may go back and record your associations to every word that you have used to describe your dream.

Dreams of falling indicate that the ego has been in an inflated state and then has to come down to earth after a disappointment.

We all cast a shadow. It is what gives us substance and integrates us into the group; without it we would not be human but would be above the group.

We need to take notice of the point at which we awaken suddenly from a dream or nightmare, because it is precisely this point that the unconscious wants us to pay attention to or “wake up” to.

The anima represents the capacity to love. The 1960’s hippie movement revived the culture of courtly love, with youths, like troubadours, singing the praises of the anima.

The negative anima may be portrayed in a dream as a vampire, sucking out the blood of emotional life.

Dreams before death may depict a preparation for a journey or a movement from a dark cloud to an open space.

Women often look for their identity in the mirrors of others’ eyes. They are like princesses imprisoned in the tower, still locked in the role of father’s little girl.

The negative animus may appear as a jealous lover or swindler. It tries to cut a woman off from whatever she loves, raping feelings by its opinionated resistance to love.

The positive animus is the instinctual innermost guide to the inner truth. A woman without animus is nothing, as she is then without intelligence or spiritual longing.

What we need today is not sexual liberation but the liberation of the heart where we learn to love the individual for his or her uniqueness.

We are not divine, but we are the stable in which the divine was born.

–Mary Harsany