Ingmar Bergman

Born into a strict Lutheran household, Ingmar Bergman’s cinematic explorations of God, doubt, and human suffering were deeply rooted in his Protestant upbringing. While his films often grapple with big, weighty questions, they tend to do so with a Nordic gloom rather than the neurotic kvetching one might expect from, say, a Woody Allen. He was, to put it mildly, not one of us.

Bergman’s famously intense and often dark oeuvre dealt with everything from marital strife to the literal personification of Death playing chess. His artistic output was prodigious and critically acclaimed, securing his place as one of cinema's most influential figures. However, his personal life, marked by numerous marriages and affairs, suggests a man more preoccupied with earthly dramas than synagogue attendance.

Despite the gravity of his themes, there's no evidence of any Jewish connection in Bergman's lineage or personal life. His existential crises were strictly of the Scandinavian variety, leaving little room for gefilte fish or a good old-fashioned argument about the Talmud. So, while his films might make you think, they certainly won't make you think about ordering a pastrami on rye.

His legacy, however, is undeniably massive. The sheer weight and intellectual depth of his films, even if they never once feature a bar mitzvah, command respect. The K-score here is for pure, unadulterated artistic genius, even if it’s the kind of genius that makes you question the meaning of life rather than celebrate it.