Made
soon after Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia, Bird, Orphans and Fools, like so many fascinating films made during
and post Prague Spring, was banned upon its release and saw the light of day
only after the collapse of Soveit regime. This lesser-known Czech New Wave film
provided a fascinating look at socio-political alienation through its bleak
portrayal of a dystopian world laced with absurdism, ironies, black humour, anarchic
spirit and sharp underlying commentary on the then political climate – no
wonder it earned the wrath of the draconian ruling force. The 3 protagonists of
the allegorical tale – the aggressive and volatile Yorick (Jiri Sykora), his
introverted buddy Ondrej (Philippe Avron) who’s never had a relationship with a
female, and the beautiful Martha (Magda Vášáryová) whose entrance adds
simmering undercurrents – are orphans living in a dilapidated church in a
fool’s world. Their idea of freedom is discarding the kind of rational behavior
expected of adults, and their need for escaping the dreary, crumbling environ
they’re living in is to reject the various tragedies surrounding them through
childlike philosophy of unbridled fun and nonsensical attitudes. Closing one’s
mind to the world one is living in, however, is hardly a sensible way to exist,
and reality, as can be anticipated, catches up with them leading the film to a
chilling climax with shuddering violence, in the form of Yorick’s meltdown following
a sudden arrest, putting an end to their carefree lives. A gaggling old man,
also living in that church, added comic interludes to this otherwise
relentlessly dark film; the absurdist elements and exuberance for most parts
was followed by a somber tone in the end, thus making the representations all
the more powerful.
Director: Juraj Jakubisko
Genre: Black Comedy/Social Satire/Avant-Garde/Experimental Film
Language: Slovak
Country: Czechoslovakia
Pearls of the Deep,
on hindsight, was a watershed moment for the Czech New Wave movement, as 5 of
its giants collaborated for this omnibus film. It can also be considered as an
alumnus meet for FAMU, as all the 5 directors associated with this project,
viz. Jiří Menzel, Jan Nemec, Evald Schorm, Věra Chytilová and Jaromil Jires,
had studied at the legendary Prague institute. Further, all the shorts were
adaptations of short stories by one of the most beloved Czech authors, Bohumil
Hrabal. Though rarely as politically charged as Czech New Wave generally was,
or like, say, the fabulous Romanian New Wave anthology film Tales from the Golden Age, it did bear
some of the hallmarks that were representative the former movement – alternately
bittersweet, darkly funny and whimsical humour, idiosyncratic characters,
absurdism and oddities, breezy tone, and oftentimes experimental narrative
styles. Menzel’s delectable Mr.
Baltazar’s Death focused on a death and racing-bike obsessed husband-wife
pair; Nemec’s The Imposters, the best
and the most heartwarming of the lot, showed 2 aged patients in a hospital
reminiscing about their pasts, using, as was later revealed, exaggerations to
embellish their personal histories and memories of themselves; Schorm’s The House of Joy, the most politically
charged of the lot and the only one shot in colour, concerned the futile
attempts of 2 insurance salesmen to sell their product to an eccentric painter;
Chytilova’s The Restaurant of the World,
unsurprisingly the most surrealistic of the lot, was about the aftermaths of a
suicide at a local café; and Jires’ Romance,
chronicled the chance and fleeting romantic interlude between a shy apprentice
plumber and a free-spirited Gypsey girl, and the associated social inequity.
Directors: Jiri Menzel, Jan Nemec, Evald Schorm, Vera Chytilova, Jaromil Jires
Genre: Drama/Comedy/Black Comedy/Surrealistic Drama/Political Drama/Omnibus Film
Language: Czech
Country: Czech Republic (erstwhile Czechoslovakia)
In the Shadow has
strong political contexts and is filled with angry reminiscences of a prolonged
dark and turbulent period in the country’s history. However, more than
anything, this Czech film is a riveting thriller and a tense police procedural,
marked by breakneck pace, excellent zeitgeist, compelling character dynamics
and relentless tension. Captain Hakl (Ivan Trojan) is a loyal family man with a
loving wife and a young son, and a committed if decidedly weary member of the
police force. When a seemingly mundane case of jewelry store heist lands on his
table he starts investigating with impersonal vigour. However, to his
befuddlement, Major Zenke (Sebastian Koch), a German officer with a mysterious
past, arrives in the scene and takes over the case under powers vested directly
by Moscow. Though relieved of the current responsibility, he continues digging,
and before long dirty and complex state-sponsored conspiracies start getting
revealed as Jews start getting arrested en masse, and his job and his family’s
lives are placed in grave danger from unknown assailants. Meanwhile the entire
country is reeling under the fear of a possible currency that might leave
hordes penniless. The sense of constant paranoia among the populace on account
of the secret police, anti-Semitism and Stalinist purges was marvelously
captured, while the cinematography and art décor provided an astounding mix of evocation
of the times, moody cloak-and-dagger atmosphere of the Cold War era, and
noirish expressionism. The entire cast was good, but Trojan was particularly
terrific for his portrayal of his character’s doggedness, growing cynicism and
particularly layered relationship with his family, and his war of nerves with
his German nemesis.
Director: David Ondricek
Genre: Thriller/Political Thriller
Language: Czech
Country: Czech Republic
Ivan Passer was a co-writer for 2 of the 3 Czech
features that Forman made – the delightful comedy Loves of a Blonde and the masterful satire The Firemen’s Ball, and directed just 1 film, Intimate Lighting, before having to defect from Czechoslovakia –
yet, these Czech New Wave gems were enough to make him a major figure in the movement.
Contrary to the deeply political nature of the short-lived movement’s most
renowned products, this delectable, charming, humorous and breezy little film captured
the lazy elegance of rustic life, and Passer deftly suffused it with simplicity,
idiosyncrasy and whimsical fun. The plot, which is skeletal at best, is about
the reunion of two friends at a bucolic setting. Bambas (Karel Blažek) is a
violinist at the local philharmonic. The first scene, showing a bunch of
gaggling elderly men preparing for an important performance, immediately caught
attention with its subversive humour and quick wit, and the same was sustained
with effortless ease throughout its compact run-time. Bambas, who resides with
his father (Jan Vostrčil) who too dabbles on the violin, albeit not with as much
adroitness as his son would prefer, mother and plump wife, is given a visit to
their countryside house from Prague by his old cellist friend Petr (Zdeněk
Bezušek) and his young and beautiful fiancée (Věra Křesadlová). The urban-rural
divide formed for a sharp metaphor on success and failure, and the ensuing
underhanded social commentary was subtly but brilliantly touched upon through
wryly funny sequences and rambling conversations. Consequently, despite some
cynical undertones, the film, on surface, was light-hearted, affectionate,
amusing, playful and melancholic.
Director: Ivan Passer
Genre: Comedy/Rural Comedy
Language: Czech
Country: Czech Republic (erstwhile Czechoslovakia)
Juraj Herz resided at the edge of the Czech New
Wave, and if The Cremator, the
tonally and thematically darkest film belonging to that movement I’ve watched
so far, is anything to go by, it is easy to guess why. This was a lacerating
black comedy and a horrifying political allegory – all using the morbid motif
of a crematorium, with a narrative that was highly surreal, and an
expressionistic cinematographic style that was intensely disorienting both
visually and psychologically, which all further amplified its grotesqueness. Karl
(Rudolf Hrusinsky), the chubby-faced and deceptively amiable protagonist, works
at a state-owned crematorium and is a happy family man. However, as Herz
started scratching deeper into his life, discomfiting imbalances and ominous
patterns started emerging – he is an orderliness freak, he has a right-wing
orientation making him easily gullible to Nazi indoctrination, he has strong
opinions on propriety and morality, albeit glibly oblivious to his own
hypocrisy in the form of taking surreptitious trips to a brothel and then
getting himself regularly examined by a doctor on false pretexts, he is overly
religious, he lays huge importance on the importance of masculinity, so on and
so forth. In short, he’s sociopathic and dangerous, with a darn creepy smile as
added bonus. His increasing madness, thus, engulfs his mind and life, and
proves devastating for everyone around him. Hrusinsky provided a powerful peek
into, to borrow the title of Conrad’s novella, the heart of darkness, and the
impact was accentuated by the use of extreme close-ups, and the way, during the
space of a shot, seamless transformations of scenes took place which provided
for subtle but fascinating juxtaposition of parallel perspectives and
scenarios.
Director: Juraj Herz
Genre: Black Comedy/Political Satire/Psychological Horror/Avant-Garde
Language: Czech
Country: Czech Republic (erstwhile Czechoslovakia)
