At the risk of sounding blasphemous, I have to admit that Bergman's films never grabbed my fancy. Not that he doesn't deserve his place among  the all-time greats. I can certainly respect him through the filmmakers who "got" his style and were influenced to take risks, making movies in his iconoclastic shadow.

Two of my favorites -- Robert Altman and Woody Allen -- never failed to list Bergman among their influences and it showed. Their methods of developing characters are different, Altman spontaneously and Allen by careful scripting, but each stretched narrative boundaries, leaving lots for the viewer to figure out. Watered-down from Bergman's methodically austere European vibe, but the same challenge to artist and audience. And U.S. audiences don't like such challenges, as Allen and Altman's grosses prove.

I've always wondered how many of those cocktail party chatters who drop Bergman's name actually saw his movies. I'll admit I faked it a few times then quickly changed the subject. It must be the same superiority synapse that makes Trekkers and Jedi wannabes feel better about knowing more geek-speak than anyone else in the room.

For most of today's audiences, Bergman is to filmmakers what Citizen Kane is to films; famous because others who bothered to watch have declared him to be.

Americans haven't gotten any more comfortable with reading subtitles in 50 years since The Seventh Seal. Attentions spans have deteriorated to the point that Transformers may confuse some people. Allen and Bernardo Bertolucci are just about the only directors still alive who can claim to be Bergman's peer, and they're not relevant anymore. Bergman's chamber dramas and stark introspection still thrill aging scholars and devoted cineastes and that's wonderful.

But you have to wonder if dying a few decades sooner when film schools (not MTV by way of Circuit City) molded talent and tastes would've given Bergman's memoriums a boost.