A single black bird stands suspended in the air. This solitary image opens Ingmar Bergman's masterpiece, The Seventh Seal. In Christian mythology, a white dove represents the coming of the Holy Spirit. There is no spirit found in this film. No salvation. No redemption. No God. Only death occupies the frame.

Antonius Block (Max von Sydow) and his squire, Jöns (Gunnar Björnstrand) are returning from the Crusades with nothing to show for it but a lack of the faith that first brought them there. Europe is being ravished by the Plague. They are making their way back to Antonius' castle when the knight encounters Death. “I have long walked by your side,” he explains. “So I have noticed,” Antonius replies. It is impossible for him not to notice. Death has been a part of his life for a decade. He challenges Death to a game of chess. He knows he plays, for he has seen it in paintings. They play for his life. From here is where one of the most iconic images ever committed to celluloid appears. Everyone has seen this image. The most notable parodies come from Woody Allen's Love and Death, and Keanu Reeve's greatest cinematic achievement, Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey.

Along the way to the castle, they meet many people, including the priest who originally convinced Antonius to join the Crusades, now reduced to a rapist and petty thief, stealing jewelry from dead bodies. They meet a witch about to burned at the stake. She is thought to have caused the Plague, for she has had conversations with the Devil. Antonius pleads with her to tell him how he can speak with him, only to ask about God. To know that he exists. She tells him to look into her eyes. He can see him there. “All I see is fear,” he replies. They also meet a troupe of actors, including Joseph, Mary, and there child Michael. The allusion here is not subtle, nor is it intended to be. Upon meeting the happy family, they sit and eat strawberries and drink fresh milk. Antonius states, “I shall remember this moment... It will be a sign to me, and a great sufficiency.” This simple memory is all he needs to fill the void that God has left. When Death threatens to take their lives as well, it becomes his mission to save them.

Ingmar Bergamn, film's greatest Auteur, is amazing because he has the ability to paint his own struggles onto the screen so artistically that you can't help but contemplate his same fears. He grew up with a Protestant minister as a father who would threaten to lock him in a cabinet with creatures that would bite off his toes. It's no wonder he was able to display beautifully horrifying images in his films.

The film is less about death and more about the lengths that man will go to to avoid this inevitable fate. Death is a better player than any human. At the film's close, Death's victims follow behind him in line. “The strict lord bid them dance,” Joseph tells Mary as he sees this vision. Even as a strong atheist who knows that death is followed by nothing but emptiness, this final scene still gives me chills. It is a truly terrifying movie, and I love it.