Sunshine Follows Rain (1946)

There are two wealthy landowning families and a marriage between “Marit” (Mai Zetterling) and “Mats” (Ulf Palme) to unite them seems likely. She’s an independently minded young woman though and he’s a bit of an oaf so it isn’t a relationship made in heaven, but with her dad “Germund” (Sten Lindgren) keen on the match it all looks like a fait accompli. Meantime, the local liquor loving fiddler “Glabo-Kalle” (Ivar Hallback) is entertaining the village alongside it’s black sheep “Jon” (Alf Kjellin). He is the result of a liaison between a girl that “Germund” once loved and a travelling musician - and so whilst tolerated, he is largely shunned. Guess what? Yep. It’s after a drunken party as she walks home that he has to rescue her from the unwarranted attentions of a group of villagers and that’s the start of an affaire de coeur that challenges attitudes and tests relationships and loyalties as this close knit community comes to terms with it’s own equivalent of devilishness. This film provides quite an exposing social commentary on just how women were loved, certainly, but still traded as commodities and dynasty builders whilst it also shines a light on the prevailing double standards of a Christianity that neither forgives nor forgets. Zetterling is on good form and there is a quite an effectively smouldering chemistry between her and the sort of Bogarde-esque Kjellin. There is a lesson to be learned here for many who incline to visit the sins of the predecessors on their blameless offspring and there is also some stunning photography all centred around a waterfall that was there for centuries before mankind sullied it’s waters, and which will be there for centuries afterwards, too.