gudaulin

The petty bourgeois concept fits best and thrives in an environment that is also small - in a small town. In a big city, everything is easily lost, and the countryside is too small for a bourgeois. Viktor once dreamed of bold buildings, beautiful women, and artistic recognition while studying architecture. In middle age, he knew perfectly well how tempting compromise can be, how to be accommodating to the influential, and often prioritize personal gain over public interest. In his personal life, he experiences a typical midlife crisis multiplied by the pain of a childless marriage and the excellent bourgeois nature of his partner. Only an offer from a friend to return to artistic photography awakens him from apathy and doubt, and he decides to devote himself to it. Finding a model is a challenge in a small town, but surviving the irritated reaction of narrow-minded townspeople with their concept of morality takes much more work and costs something. For Kachyňa, A Good Light is actually an average creation, but even an average Kachyňa is capable of much more than the work of most of his colleagues. Overall impression: 65%.

When it comes right down to it, it's actually not about anything groundbreaking. This sympathetic morality tale, which fits much better on a television screen than on a film screen, benefits from the fact that it doesn't display the common weaknesses of Czech films, such as an unbelievable script, stupid dialogues, and unrealistic or flat characters. You believe the feelings of that unlucky man who, in exchange for a managerial position, occasionally overlooked something generously, until suddenly he faced accusations of embezzling the company, and you also believe the reactions of those around him. Long Live the Family!  is a peculiar road movie about late realization and escape from responsibility and it is well-written, acted, and directed. What more can we actually expect from Czech cinema? Overall impression: 70%.

For a long time, I claimed that I didn't have a positive relationship with the western genre. I was bothered by its clichés, heroism, and black-and-white characters. Later, I had the privilege to get acquainted with films that significantly revitalized the classic western and disproved my prejudices that the western genre is dead. Little Big Man, in my opinion, belongs to the best creations in this genre. It's not a parody, but Arthur Penn looks at the conquest of the Wild West and the famous figures of that era through a comedic lens. Jack Crabb, as the film's protagonist, represents the absolute opposite of the beloved western heroes. He is actually a nobody who navigates on the border between white and Native American civilization. He doesn't really belong anywhere and changes his ethnic affiliation and life role several times. Penn cunningly satirizes the myth of the Wild West and legends of that era. General Custer is an excellent narcissistic psychopath, and the devout pastor's wife, played by Faye Dunaway, is a perfect example of hypocrisy and rightfully meets a tragic fate. The film depicts the inevitable decline of the Native American civilization and the massacres that accompanied the settlers' westward expansion. The director alternates between humorous moments and scenes of violence and tragic death. Penn handles this uncommon and quite demanding combination of genres excellently, while authentically portraying the receding Native American culture without succumbing to sentimentality and fascination. The presence of the always-excellent Dustin Hoffman definitively tips the scale in favor of five stars. Overall impression: 90%.

The most significant film by Juraj Herz in my eyes will always be The Cremator, but The Petroleum Lamps is a serious contender for second place in the rankings. The film has high-quality and emotionally powerful literary source material, a provocative moralistic subject, two top actors in the leading roles, a careful selection of costumes, props, and interiors, and above all young Juraj Herz from a time when he was bursting with ideas and had an exceptional sense for creating atmosphere - all of this makes The Petroleum Lamps one of the best psychological dramas that have been created in Czechoslovakia. The demonic Petr Čepek, who always had an exceptional gift for portraying the dark sides of human nature, demonstrates the disintegration of the personality of a person afflicted with a serious illness and as always, is perfect and unpleasantly convincing. However, more interesting is Iva Janžurová, considered by film fans to be a typical comedian. She shows that her acting range is much wider and that she is capable of playing practically anything. The Petroleum Lamps works on two levels. Firstly, as a critique of a small-minded environment full of prejudice, where the film's protagonist is too free-thinking and emancipated, and thus her surroundings respond to her in their own way. Secondly, it is a film about the unfulfilled life of a childless woman who spends the best years of her life caring for a bitter human wreck. I don't usually mention it, but in this case, I will make an exception and emphasize the film's set design, which is done in the Art Nouveau style. This is something that is rarely seen in Czech cinema, and I can only recall another film by Herz, Morgiana, which had the same visual style, from hairstyles to clothing. Overall impression: 95%.

The US is considered to be the promised land of science fiction, and the golden era of American sci-fi literature in the 1930s and 1940s found its continuation in the film industry, where a number of B-movies emerged in the early 1950s, taking advantage of the contemporary hysteria about flying saucers and alien invasion of Earth. Invasion of the Body Snatchers represents one of the peaks of the genre within these productions, remaining impressive and fully usable even years later. This is because Don Siegel did not focus on effects and sets, which usually become outdated after a few years, but on the paranoia of the protagonist, who realizes before others that he is facing a mortal threat but doesn't know how to stop it. The camera is constantly focused on the main character, capturing his increasing nervousness, fear, pain, and exhaustion. This film is about the despair of a person who knows he is losing his loved ones. Siegel's film has two interpretations - the first, more common one, claims that the film is a depiction of the paranoia of the Cold War era and the fear of advancing communism with its uniformity and massiveness. A minority holds the opinion that Don Siegel simply criticized the decline of traditional American individualism and the emergence of a conformist society, where opinions and value hierarchies are created by mass media and state institutions. Personally, I prefer Philip Kaufman's 1977 remake, which lacks the B-movie patina of the 1950s and has a more balanced and distinctive cast. Overall impression: 75%.

Many of my returns to film classics and encounters with my favorite movies of my childhood and adolescence are accompanied by doubts because it's somehow not the same anymore. These films affect me differently and usually much more dimly than I had them preserved in my memories. The work of Luis Buñuel is an exception to this - it's a constant in my indulgences. In The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, through a small company composed of typical members of the upper classes - entrepreneurs, church officials, government officials, and their mistresses - Buñuel ingeniously mocks the establishment and its desire for comfort and pleasures. The selected society repeatedly gathers around a set table, but Buñuel repeatedly disrupts their consumerist desires with an unwanted person entering or an unexpected incident. In every shot, it is evident how Buñuel, as a leftist, has a critical distance from this class. He maliciously ridicules members of the social elite, a typical scene being when an ambassador, hiding under the table from terrorists, cannot resist reaching for pastries, risking his life rather than giving up the delicacies. Buñuel's characters embody their fear of losing face, of being exposed as incompetent, in a surrealistic performance, where they find themselves on a theater stage instead of a banquet, and dejectedly admit that they don't know the text. The whole film is permeated with dreamlike visions - Buñuel, as a pure surrealist, not only plays with his characters but also with the audience. It is quite possible that the entire film is actually just a dream of one of the characters burdened with guilt and doubts. Buñuel made this film toward the end of his career after he had already done a lot, and his sure hand and value system are evident in the film. He rightfully received an Oscar for his film, despite his provocative behavior and delineation against Hollywood. Overall impression: 95%.

Including a large number of historical events ranging from the prelude to war to the first major offensives, the bloody massacres of trench warfare, the disillusionment of ordinary soldiers, occasional visits to the Italian and Russian fronts, peace negotiations, and post-war developments into a single feature film means mastering the art of abbreviation perfectly, but above all, having the ability to capture the most important and characteristic aspects. The film manages this surprisingly well through the personal confession of a French soldier who was there from beginning to end. Based on archival footage, the film is well thought out, clear, and impressive, with a clear anti-war message. Just a small note - as much as the film tries to appear impartial, the story told from the other side of no man's land would be different. A similar divergence would also be present in the depiction of a soldier's adventures on the Russian front. Overall impression: 90%.

When watching this film, I couldn't help but think of Zelenka's The Karamazov Brothers, which is quite similar. Staging a classic theater play in a specific environment and under special conditions naturally has a different impact on the viewer and is characterized by a completely different atmosphere than on a traditional stage. However, there are two fundamental differences here: Petr Zelenka can rely on some of the best actors of his generation, additionally perfectly experienced from theater engagements. His film is much closer to the classic conception of a live-action film. On the other hand, the Taviani brothers filmed a peculiar documentary where you don't know where the boundaries of human pose, pretense, and exhibition in front of the camera begin and end. Their "heroes" are real criminals, murderers, mafia members, and drug dealers sentenced to long-term imprisonment. The Taviani brothers are minimalist, you learn very little about their "actors," and their true thinking is hidden behind a mask. Only a few scenes demonstrate the internal tension and the environment of the prison with special security measures. Caesar Must Die is a typical festival film, definitely not one intended for the average viewer who sits down in front of the screen to relax. Those who can appreciate the unspoken, who can appreciate the absurdity of scenes where mafia killers act out a story about a murderous conspiracy to remove Caesar - the godfather, will be more than satisfied. Since I gave The Karamazov Brothers 5 stars, I ultimately lean towards the same rating here. The story of the fate of Salvatore Striano, who started acting after being granted clemency from his prison cell, is one of those you think can only happen in the film world. Overall impression: 90%.

This time, my two stars are not only for a specific film but for a whole era and type of popular comedies from the 50s and 60s. Simply put, older French and Italian comedies with a leading pair, a few functional gags, and a lot of wordy filler just feel exhausted to me, sometimes desperately so. This type of film doesn't offend in any way, but I don't have much fun with them anymore. For early films with Louis de Funès, this feeling is more of a rule than an exception. Overall impression: 40%, one of the two stars is for the presence of two famous names in French cinema.

The Addams Family shows the better side of the American studio system, i.e., the ability to gather and utilize a sufficiently large budget to create an alternative fairy tale world filled with bizarre props, fantastic sets, and audience-pleasing gimmicks. At the same time, also the ability to attract notable actors and make a film without compromises - by that, I mean compromises that would arise from limited technical resources. Unlike many others, this film has not noticeably aged, even though it is evident that the producer aimed at a family audience, so it simply isn't as provocative, sarcastic, and darkly humorous as it could have been if it didn't take into account the child audience. But that is naturally my problem, as I am no longer a child or a teenager. From my perspective, it's definitely not a perfect 4-star movie but this time I will round up in a positive direction because children's eyes would definitely see it differently. Overall impression: 70%.