It is scandalous that this film should be called "Ingmar Bergman's . . .", not that he didn't do a magnficent job in this production using an Eighteenth-century theatre. Still, the fact remains that it is always Mozart's, Mozart's, and again Mozart's. A joy to all, and rather droll for non-Swedes to hear in Swedish. Hakan Hagegard was in his prime when this film was made, and he owns the screen when he's on it. ( )