nominations for czech lion

After quite some stress and sweat, as well as a great meal, a beautiful friend of mine and myself, managed to make it to the televised nomination evening of the Czech Lions. Out of nowhere some kind of tickets for the event appeared and how then can a film lover not jump on the occasion? While the event itself was rather enjoyable, even if some elements had an air of embarrassment around them, I’d only like to concentrate on some things that to a degree surprised me or raised questions. Thus it is more of a collection of random thoughts without much coherence.

The moderation was taken over by Jan Budař, who probably gained fame in the film Nuda v Brně (Bored in Brno) and has since acted in quite a few respected features. The tone was humorous and I particularly enjoyed the side comments about some bad sides of the Czech (or human) society in general, particularly by concentrating on the “we” aspect and not talking about the others. By the reaction of the audience, these comments were very well received and in some moments it became somewhat clear that unfortunately people really are like that. (It has mainly to do with humans being like sheep…and some ironic comments about film critics.)

To my big surprise the most successful foreign films of the past year were also mentioned, and to possibly little surprise Avatar was the most attended. In relation to this film, there had been a poll as to which Czech Sci-Fi production is the best or most beloved. The Top 10 consisted mostly of comedic features by Lipský or Vorlíček in the lower parts, and Zeman’s films along with Ikarie XB1 in the Top 5. What I didn’t quite expect was Cesta do pravěku (Journey to the Beginning of Time) to take the top spot. I assumed this to be Baron Prášil (The Fabulous Baron Munchhausen), which came in third. The consciousness of the own cinematic history is thus still very present, which I not only realize rather often when talking about film, but seems to be also officially supported.

History does also play a major role in the themes that directors choose to create films from. Tragic comedies, another genre that has a long and very popular tradition in the country, seemed to be also a very common genre among the films produced last year. Shamefully not having seen one single nominated film yet, it seems to my untrained eyes that Protektor is the most interesting featured and will probably be the most successful at the awards. One film I unfortunately missed, but would have liked to see, is the new one by the great animator Jiří Bárta.

Ignoring the quality of most feature films, the last year was the most successful for the Czech production, as the number rose to 34. This is the largest amounts of (co-)produced films since independence and what I personally find striking is the number of debuts every year. Maybe it’s only by chance that I mostly take note of young directors creating their first films, but at least they make it to local cinemas and even multiplexes. If not successful with the audience, they naturally are not shown for very long, but at least the possibility here exists to make a film. (I’m not sure how the production system is handled here, looking at comments of these films, the directors are often either untalented or have been imposed very strong limitations, such that most debuts are often little more than mediocre.)

Among the most common minorities in the Czech Republic are the Vietnamese. The older generation mostly sells a very wide assortment of products, not always very legally and the general population seems rather, to put it mildly, sceptical toward them. Their children however seem perfectly integrated into the society, the only difference being at first their Asiatic appearance. One of the very minor awards already handed out at these nominations, was then presented by the Miss Vietnam Czech Republic and the runner-up. I’m not sure however to make of it. Were they invited because they are such an accepted part of the society? Or is it to destroy negative stereotypes or mistrust among the population? Whatever the reasons, it made me happy that the acceptance for at least one minority is increasing and I hope this will extend to some other often mistrusted minorities.

Talking to (young) Czech people, it becomes clear that many quotes have become staples of Czech spoken culture. Some words have actually even entered the language by themselves, not in the form of whole quotes. These things happened not only to domestic films, but also to some dubbed products, particularly it seems Red Dwarf. To my great enjoyment then, there will be a new category part of the whole Czech Lion ceremony. Each year one director will pick his/her twenty movie quotes, and this year it will be Jiří Menzel. Very excited what his choices will be.

The past year has seen quite a few interesting moments in the world of film. Some appear very positive, at least on paper, others, such as the return to cinema screens of Juraj Herz, seem less successful. Overall, with my very limited knowledge, mostly based on the occasional review, opinion or trailer, 2009 appears to be a worse year than the previous one, at least film wise. Looking forward, I’d like to recommend the film Pouta (Walking Too Fast). The feature film debut (at least on a big scale) of a film critic could bring a new talent onto the map and was as of now very well received by critics. I hope I’ll manage to catch it at the movies before I leave the beautiful city of Prague.

ecce homo homolka

Coming into Ecce Homo Homolka unawares one might think it is a forgotten film by the great Miloš Forman. To little surprise then would a casual cineaste learn that the director Jaroslav Papoušek was not only a close friend of the most famous of Czech directors, but that he, along with Ivan Passer, cooperated on many features of Forman – notably on the level of scriptwriting.

Despite the popularity of Forman’s films, it seems however that he has not achieved a sort of uberclassic status of the Homolka trilogy. Perhaps because here the biting satire is much more closely tied to situational comedy or maybe because this film is even more a film about the little people and less about criticism – I have yet to give thought to this phenomenon I perceive, not discounting the possibility that my perception of the popularity of the respective films may be skewed.

This is not to say that this film lacks criticism, but it is possibly more socially acceptable and less intellectual. Judging from comments however one thing is clear: the types of people encountered in the film are of the kind that one knows, has seen on the streets or in one’s own family. Those are little people with little problems that seem big issues to them, lost and almost forgotten dreams and ideals simmer under the surface of the seemingly happy family.

One cannot help but see that the contentment with the situation stems much more from the oldest generation. They have basically accepted the insignificance of human life and the impossibility of achieving what a young person dreams of, now seeking happiness in the daily routine and the little pleasures that nature and society give. Again here appears the metaphor of Czech identity – it is this acceptance of the fate of small nations and people caught amidst the crushing presence of time and other unknown forces. What gives hope is the company of humans and, when taken onto the level of the spectator who identifies him/herself with what goes on, the ability to laugh about and shake off the worries about things too big for him.

Surely an actor’s film, if there ever was one, it is Josef Šebánek playing the grandfather who no doubt steals the show. The non-actor had already appeared in Forman’s films, making the ties even more evident, much like the two boys of the Homolka family being played by Forman’s sons. There is to me however at least one stylistic distinction, namely the repeated concentration of the camera on Catholic crucifixes, or the positioning of the characters in front of them. It is no secret that certain parts of the Czech society, especially the older generations, deeply believe in what appears to me as a naïve Catholicism that is closely tied to simple superstitions.

Does the quality of the film itself justify its classic status? When put within the context of filmmaking or the Czech New Wave hardly, however when put in the context of Czech popular culture and society, then undoubtedly. I am not sure how a film can achieve such a position that large parts of a population are able to quote or possibly even enact certain scenes. However it makes me glad, irrespective of a films intrinsic quality, that things like that can and do happen. At little sentimentally I’d call it one of the wonders of humanity.

Essential

One Hand Can’t Clap

Blacker than black, that’s how most Czechs like their humor. This becomes especially apparent following the most successful comedies of the past years. Democracy and freedom did not turn out as great as anticipated by many and thus salvation is sought in dark comedies of the absurd.

Among the most successful of these was Samotáři -a modern piece about people searching for happiness in or around the capital with the tagline “come laugh at yourself”. Directed by a very interesting man it now has a firm position in the cultural identity of Czechs, especially the young. Lines are known by heart, characters have become legendary – additionally the film started the careers of quite a few of the best of the generation of actors today. The modern aesthetic was helped by the close ties to the Czech music industry, particularly the legendary Jan P. Muchow, most probably through the director Miroslav Ondříček. Readers may guess that it is the son of the famed cinematographer who shaped the New Wave together with Forman and others back in the sixties. The director himself was also part of legendary rock group Toyen, whence his ties to Muchow stem from I assume.

And the shadow of that classic film looms heavy over Jedna ruka netleská, the follow-up production of the creators. Same actors reprising somewhat similar roles, almost identical thematic grounds are covered and even the structure of the story is not very different. Many characters try to live their lives but are inextricably tied to each other, crossing paths as it happens by chance, entering each other’s lives, at times deliberately, other times less so. Obsessions, stupidity and especially luck, or rather the arbitrariness of it are central here. All of it spiced up with high levels of absurdity. Sounds great, doesn’t it?

However all of the stories seem to be all over the place. Not that there is not enough time spent on the various storylines, or that their interconnections seem too forced. It’s more that they don’t seem to fit together. The same film, but structured episodically without clear interconnections would have certainly been better. The observations about obsessions and the absurdity of our lives remain mostly banal, seemingly only there to indulge in further excesses of black humor. It’s as if the creators didn’t have more to say after their previous effort.

But this makes it sound worse than the picture actually is. Some delightful performances are complemented by fittingly under cooled cinematography. The humor at times taps unknown reserves of darkness which makes for endless laughter, which easily covers up the flaws on a first viewing. One then easily forgives the creation of characters that are like a little too extreme Sancho Panzas lost in a world, where the simple-minded and good hearted end up badly. Or maybe they don’t, chance can play some horrible tricks on people.

The excesses of absurdity seem ever increasing as the film goes on, possibly even surpassing levels of acceptability for the fainthearted. Wisely however the director finds time for some tenderness in between all the madness. Tenderness that feels a little awkward, but also real and earnest. It is these moments that make the film more than a collection of grotesque situations and create an air of humanity – a feat that great directors of this country always excelled at, finding humanity in the cold absurdity of the world surrounding us.

Interesting

Storch Trilogy

Many of us have dreamt in our youth, or even later in our lives, about heroic adventures in times long gone. The will to survive in a hostile and raw environment takes our minds out of this mostly safe and dull world and makes heroes out of the biggest cowards. Most mainstream films work this way I guess, the only thing that changes is the surrounding. His love for archaeology and pedagogy one day inspired the Czech teacher and writer, Eduard Štorch, to infuse these stories with educational elements. Thus a series about the Stone Age was born, that seems to have inspired quite a few generations of young readers.

The times after Prague Spring were tough for many great filmmakers. It is well known that the creators of the New Wave went down different paths, paths that only rarely complied with their own inner beliefs. Among these was Jan Schmidt, a director that has shown an interest in semi-fantastic worlds in the past. His films, while containing nice ideas and a very interesting visual side, often lacked something that stopped them from being great.

Now the director shifted his attention due to political and social changes to children. The project, an adaptation of the mentioned authors work, still remains rather unique, not only in the Czech context. From three books, Osada havranů, Na veliké řece and Volání rodu, three short films were made all at the same time, making it a trilogy not dissimilar to something like Lord of the Rings.

Right from the beginning the stories are tied to archaeological findings near Prague, a narrator explicitly stating that the story that will follow is an imagination of the possible events that hide behind the Neolithic excavations. The first part of the trilogy presents us with our main hero, a boy on the verge to manhood, his mentor and the boy’s tribe. The story is told in episodes, each showing an aspect of the seemingly simple life of humans living on the verge of subsistence. The main problem is the almost non-existing dramatic tension, partly based on the episodic structure. This changes in the second part of the trilogy, where a search for an abducted bride is the frame for the events. The last part is concerned with the foundation of a new clan, following expulsion.

While many important elements of a subsistence culture are touched upon, one often gets the feeling that the portrayal is more akin to something from later times, such as the Bronze Age, than what it should be. This is especially apparent when some traders visit, as they appear to be from a totally different world. The behavior of the humans, as well as in-group dynamics, tends to be even modern in many cases – a short-coming that in the end renders the film more fantasy than history and carries it away from the original intentions.

The set design is mostly very interesting, although my lack of anthropological knowledge limits my evaluation with respect to the desired realism of the sets and clothing. The camerawork is rather crude, which in a way complements the setting and time. The visuals are dominated by brown tones, which may not always be appealing, but plays a large part in making the films worthwhile. This rather striking part of the color palette is complemented by very good location choices.

Lastly the rather industrial score by Liška is wonderful. A certain tension is created between the modernist music and the ancient world carrying the films, even when the story is boring and acting slightly embarrassing. As before mentioned the director certainly has his talents, talents that lie mainly on the visual side. When combined with other great artists, his films are certainly worth a watch, but without a better script is seems that the talents are, unfortunately, wasted.

Interesting

oil lamps

A man’s descent into madness. A woman trying to fit her expectations into those of the society. A society at the brink of modernity, but still holding many taboos. Hardly surprising that it was Juraj Herz who decided to adapt the book by Jaroslav Havlíček, given the directors interest in the darker parts of the human mind.

The lovely music by Luboš Fišer sets the tone. Mainly waltzes, both happy and melancholy, accompany the innocent optimism that was before the great wars. The new century was a promising one, money was to be made and a good life for most was in prospect. The old traditions however still hover over the people; especially women cannot abandon their traditional roles. The only fulfillment lies within the family and even innocent fun is at times discouraged. Someone different is accepted, but they are passively given to understand that they have to change.

Among this oppression it is hard to be upfront; true intentions and realities are and stay. Not surprisingly to disastrous consequences. Petr Čepek very successfully changes from a lazy and mischievous bon-vivant to a psychological wreck. Truly frightening are the changes from a charmingly rational manipulator to a tyrannical train-wreck.

A sense of self-loathing is always present and becomes stronger as the dementia goes on. Not surprisingly his untouched wife suffers most from his problems, which would be so much easier to cope with if only truth could be told. But the code of conduct and a society that follows it make any human resolution impossible.

However these problems lead the female lead to undergo a transformation herself – from a very individualistic small town dame to a hard-working and intelligent farmer. However the change in social status seems to make her fit for the future. With a steady income and housing that belongs to her and her husband’s brother, she is in a way free. Living outside of the town’s society, there is much less control and meeting up with old friends from the theater can make for pleasant hours among artists. This makes for an interesting interpersonal dynamic story and acting wise.

Most wonderful about the film Petrolejové Lampy however is the recreation of an era long gone and often idealized. Partly dreamy, the picture changes from a colorful secession era impressionism to the drab world of hard work, hardly changing over the centuries, but still keeping people alive and mostly content. It is in the recreation of a not so distant path that the qualities of the creators of this little jewel merge and create a sense of nostalgia in the viewer. A nostalgia for a time that was hardly perfect for most, especially outside the cultural centers, but a time that enables the modern viewer to dream and enjoy it in the memories. Memories very charmingly influenced by films as this one.

marketa lazarova

Much has been written on this film, thus I see no reason for me to go into the details. However once I have written a short text on the film, as an assignment. The translation of said text follows on the next few lines.

The filmic epos about the rivalry between two families from the low aristocracy somewhere in the Bohemian lands is counted among the gems of the Czech cinematographic output. The director spared no effort in order to recreate the feeling of times long past. This effort shows, as a viewer plunges directly into the fierce Middle Ages.

The characters act on impulse, brutally and without pity. It’s the surroundings that made them the way they are – like the ever present wolves. To survive one is willing to do anything, even today. Perhaps these people are not all that different from modern man. And modernity is already trying to find its way into that world. Christianity promoting goodness and respect toward other humans is nothing but another belief. People stay the same and the new ideology only makes hypocrites out of them. Even the king’s delegates, representatives of the law and order, only care for their own benefit. Besides, what gives them more right to kill and collect money than the poor knight from Roháček. He himself only wants to survive and remain independent.

The wild camera and music support the rawness of the times and people – as if calm would not exist. As if we were in a modern city. From all positions it looks at the protagonists with an inspecting eye and even when it looses itself behind dark walls, conversations are still to be heard. This is a completely different picture of the middle ages than the one by the romantics. There are no brave and decent heroes, a favorable peace in nature is not to be found. Only dirt… dirt and violence. An uncoordinated, arbitrary violence – however very persistent.

In the midst there is the frail and good Marketa. The only angel in this world, an angel that soon will fall from its guarded heaven. The world and its people are pitiless. By the end it is her that holds the future in her hands, the progeny of the dead, that have the chance to become different people. Amid the precedent nihilism it is but a small hope, but hope it is nonetheless. If the director had made the film two years later, perchance not even this hope would have been left.

On a side note, what I strongly admire about František Vláčil, is, like with Jasný, his talent for evoking very specific images. This is mainly done in the last shots of the wide valley. It is exactly like I pictured medieval Bohemia. No idea how the director could recreate this images straight from my mind, but I’m more than glad he did it.

Essential

favorites

I like my films beautiful and calm. With a touch of transcendence.

A favorites list will follow soon.

Three Czech films I’d love to rewatch in good quality:

Luk královny Dorotky (Jan Schmidt, 1970)

Faunovo velmi pozdní odpoledne (Věra Chytilová, 1983)

Lev s bílou hřívou (Jaromil Jireš, 1986)

Three directors I’d like to explore:

Yuri Ilyenko, Sándor Sára, Prasanna Vithanage

Three national cinemas I’d like to explore:

Bulgarian, Indian, Philippine

all my good countrymen

How to decide with which film to start? The legacy of Czech filmmaking is exceptionally strong, going back more than one hundred years. The past years of film critics and hobby cineastes have rediscovered the joys of the vast cinematic landscape of this small country and thus a lot has been written. However from all the pearls scraped up from the depths of time and history there is one that is emblematic of Czechs in a way that I deem others are not. This filmic poem is the epitome of the New Wave and incorporates many traits that are distinctly Czech.

This film was made at the height of the experiment of socialism with a human face, looking back at the then recent historic events that have destroyed many things in the society and culture. However it’s also about Czechs as a whole and a self-criticism by the author, who had made regime supporting films as a rookie in the fifties. Last, but not least it is a summary of the whole movement that Czechoslovakia had witnessed at that time.

The story of Všichni dobří rodáci follows the lives of a few friends in a small Moravian town all through the difficult years after the war, through the collectivization and up to the end of the decade of the Stalinist purges. In the relatively short running time the director, Vojtěch Jasný, has managed to combine many elements found in other output of the time. Starting with a group of people, reminiscent for example of the films by Jiří Menzel, by the end of the film the tragic events are reduced to one individual. The struggles of one individual in a society have been covered by such people like Evald Schorm or Jan Němec in various ways. What both of these parts of the story have in common is the inability of humans to act freely facing outside circumstances that are beyond their control. Ironically they are even beyond the control of those involved, as even these get crushed under the wheels of time and unknown powers, perhaps suggesting a kafkaesque element in the film, or rather Czech worldview, present for example in the masterpieces by Pavel Juráček. The portrayal of all of these people, collaborators or those who cherish freedom and democracy, is very humane. None are condemned, as many of their decisions are in a sense inevitable with regards to their background and society. This bitter humanism again reminds the viewer of Menzel and even Forman or Ivan Passer.

Style is a major component in the conception of this world. The editing of seemingly random scenes of natural beauty and communal enjoyments not only serves to carry mood, but also suggests meanings and associations difficult to achieve otherwise. Here the director shows an extreme talent for evoking images that are, at least to my mind, burned into the subconscious of many Czechs. I cannot say why I feel so, but some scenes remind of things that I cannot have seen with my own eyes, but feel that they are Czech archetypes. These include the landscape choices, the architecture (the film, while playing in Moravia, was shot in Eastern Bohemia thus combining different things Czech even on this level) or even the positioning of actors in relation to the background. The borders to metaphysics are crossed in the most tragic moments. These tricks by the cameraman Jaroslav Kučera (as well as costume and set design by Ester Krumbachová) do not evoke the films by Věra Chytilová by chance. The overall poetic conception, with a tinge of the abstract, naturally reminds of other masters, such as František Vláčil, Karel Kachyňa or Jaromil Jireš.

Apparently the film covers the styles and themes of many New Wave filmmakers, but the director does not forget the inclusion of own concerns. A love for the rural shines through every frame. While many (arche-)types of Czechs are present in the film, there is one role model that is stylized almost o perfection. I dare say the character of the upright, good-hearted but not naive and hard-working farmer is not only a Czech ideal. However as everything good in this bitter worldview even this man is defeated. While the rural life is portrayed in a romantic and metaphysical way, this happens in a knowingly bitter way. As if the director- and the viewer- know that it is just an ideal and both create nostalgia for better times, while knowing that they never really were. But frankly, what should people who know the present is bad and the future is probably going to be even worse, otherwise do…

To not only sing praises for this cinematic treat, there is one criticism that can be held against the film. Watching the film, it becomes clear that it was planned as a much longer feature, but had to be cut down. So let cineastes hope that all of the original footage is hidden somewhere and the director can try to create what he had in mind.

By the end, only the defeated live on. A metaphor for the Czech nation caught in the midst of superpowers unable to live freely, only able to survive by bowing down. All the good countrymen are gone and judging from the undemocratic ways of the European Union, the future is anything but bright.

Essential

humble beginnings

As a long-time film lover I have often thought about starting a blog. From the very beginning it has been clear that I would cover a part of my cinematic journey. My love for film, while present from very early on, has been mostly sparked to a greater degree by some by now famous directors from eastern Asia. However very soon I had become fascinated by the output of the country my parents are from – Czechoslovakia or now the Czech Republic. I had realized that national cinemas very well exist and transport cultural values that form the national consciousness (a feat which seems particularly strong to me in the Czech case) as well as an insight to foreign viewers into the joys and problems of a certain people. Many subtleties however may not be grasped by non-Czechs and even less by viewers that are not from Central Europe. Thus I will at times try to highlight some elements of cinematic joys that may not be apparent to the casual viewer. As I grew up in Switzerland and only time, education and reflection had made me conscious of the ephemeral quality coined “Czechness”, my mind combines an insider’s with an outsider‘s view.

Having seen quite a few films in my short life, I’ve come to realize that certain countries share certain qualities which are rare in other areas. For me it seems that the sense of history and cultural belonging is particularly strong in the CEE countries. This is additionally combined with a certain rationality stemming from Western thought which is not found in European countries farther to the East. In the past month however I’ve discovered that some Italian films share the similar features. In a way I’ve always considered Italians to be rather similar to Czechs in some character traits. But moving on from my view on this once influential nation, I should come to an end for this my very first post.

Due to a similar history, I will include the occasional Slovak film in my blog. Despite being our “brotherly nation”, it seems to me that Czechs often forget about our smaller neighbor, something I wish to change. As this blog is not only about films, I’ll try to write about other things also – depending on mood and time availability. Due to a lack of experience and clear vision, the style of my entries may change strongly as time proceeds. I would be glad to read some CRITISM and other INPUT, as I hope to carry on with this blog for a while.

A special thanks and appreciation from my side goes to Michael Brooke for his ongoing interest and support of the whole Central European region in terms of cinema. I really appreciate it.

For those interested, I would recommend the following books that I find essential with regards to Czech film:

The Coasts of Bohemia – A Czech History (by Derek Sayer) (Princeton University Press, Princeton, New Jersey 1998)

The Czechoslovak New Wave (Second Edition) (by Peter Hames) (Wallflower Press London 2005)

Ostře sledované filmy – Československá zkušenost (by Antonín J. Liehm) (Národní filmový archive, Praha 2001) [Closely Observed Films – This book was originally released in the US, thus there is an English Version]

Hope at least some people will enjoy this blog.