
Today I’ve got a series of films from Czech directors, and I’ve had good luck from this country. First is a trio of pictures from director Karel Zeman, starting with 1955’s Journey to the Beginning of Time. This movie is only loosely a narrative picture, and really comes off more as a documentary, or even an informative film for children. The loose story involves four children who, inspired by the writings of Jules Verne, canoe inside a river cave looking to go back in time, à la Journey to the Center of the Earth. They succeed: on the other side of the cave, they first encounter the barren ice age, but as they progress further, they go further and further back in time. One of the boys is a brainy know-it-all, and he relates to his fellows (and us viewers) the different kinds of dinosaurs and mammals encountered, as well as how they lived, what they ate, etc. There’s trouble here and there, like giant snakes in prehistoric swamps, but for the most part the boys come out unfazed, and are able to make it back to the very earliest signs of life on our planet. Zeman used both 2D and 3D models to create his animals and landscapes, and for 1955, it all looks quite good. But I enjoy more of a story, and this film has almost none. ★½

Invention for Destruction is more dazzling, and maybe that’s just because the technology used in its making isn’t used anymore, and really stands out today, in an almost whimsical way. The story revolves around a scientist who is kidnapped by an evil count, Artigas, who has plans on using the researcher’s knowledge to create an ultimate weapon. The scientist doesn’t know Artigas is so dastardly, and thinks he is just furthering scientific knowledge. The scientist’s apprentice, Simon Hart, has also been kidnapped, but is being held separately, because he does know Artigas’s ambitions, as well as the evil man’s use of a state-of-the-art submarine which has been terrorizing the open seas, destroying merchant ships for their valuable cargo, and leaving no survivors. Simon tries to send his boss a message to warn him away from completing his project, and when that doesn’t work, attaches a message to a balloon in hopes that it reaches the city and finds help. It’s an old school fairy tale sort of story, complete with a damsel in distress (a woman also being held by Artigas), and to create the feel of a story behind told, the sets look hand drawn, purposefully so. To show characters from a distance (like people standing on a castle’s ramparts or flying in an airship), paper cut-outs and stop motion is put to affect. The entirety of it all makes it seem like you are reading an old story book with wonderful illustrations. A unique viewing experience. ★★★★

Zeman’s followup was 1962’s The Fabulous Baron Munchausen, and this time, he pulled out all the stops, using every animation technique under the sun to create another tale, this one based on an 18th century fictional German nobleman. Again going back to the writings of Jules Verne (referenced in all 3 of these movies), the movie begins with a man landing his spacecraft on the moon. He exits the craft and finds something he does not expect: a group of old friends, sans spacesuits, having tea. The men from Verne’s From the Earth to the Moon are there, as is Cyrano de Bergerac and the aforementioned Baron Munchausen. The Baron takes the spaceman, Tonik, as a “moon man,” not believing that he is from Earth, since Tonik talks about science and math that wasn’t around when the Baron was living in the 18th Century. The Baron wants to take Tonik on a field trip to Earth, and they end up in the 18th Century Ottoman Empire. What follows is a fantastical adventure, with Tonik and the (often oblivious) Baron on the run from the Sultan and his armies. The Baron always seems to flirt disaster and land on his feet, often in remarkable ways. I probably shouldn’t have watched this one just after finishing Invention for Destruction, because the combination of live action and animation that was done in that movie didn’t feel as fresh the second time (though Zeman does have new tricks up his sleeve this time, including tinting the film in various colors to set the stage). Still, a very fun story. ★★★

The Cremator gets my nomination for one of the stranger films I’ve seen in awhile. From director Juraj Herz, it takes place in 1930s Prague, at a time when the country is seeing a lot of Nazi Germany influence. The main character is Karel Kopfrkingl, an undertaker who works at the city’s crematory. He’s a strange guy with a dark side; he’s obsessed with the idea of reincarnation, and, as the movie progresses, becomes more and more fascinated with the idea that those who die are seeing their souls freed from the suffering of the world. At the same time, Karel, who may be one of the most impressionable people you ever see, is taken by the rising German party in the area. He starts to believe that he may have a drop of German blood in his ancestry somewhere, and grows to see problems with Jews in his life, even those who were once good friends to him. But when a German operative suggests that Karel’s wife may have Jewish blood, based solely on the fact that she prepared their Christmas dinner “in a Jewish way,” how far will Karel go to see his wife and kids’ souls “find freedom?” Karel is delightfully evil, his every little movement coming off as perverse, like his penchant for combing a corpse’s hair at work, and then immediately combing his own with the same instrument. There’s lots of dark humor here too, but in a way that made me uncomfortable. I loved the sinister feel of the movie, and though it takes a very long time to build, the grotesque ending will stick with you. ★★★½

And finally, the big prize today, František Vláčil’s Marketa Lazarová, considered by some to be the best Czech movie of all time. Taking place in the harsh middle ages, it revolves around an area where 3 groups are eking out a living: the king’s representative Captain Pivo, who controls the army there; Lazar, who lords over a tiny settlement; and Kozlik, a raider with his own settlement called Roháček, who has a large family who works to attack travelers on the road. Most of the film follows the Kozlik clan, and specifically his sons Mikoláš and Adam, who has one arm. On a raid, the sons attack and plunder a Count’s carriage. Rather than kill the Count’s son Christian, they take him back as prisoner to Roháček. There, Christian catches the eye of a woman, Alexandra, much to the consternation of former lover Adam. The Count goes to Captain Pivo for help in retrieving Christian. At the same time, Kozlik is butting heads with Lazar, who was found scavenging from the Count’s carriage before the Kozlik boys could get back to it. When Mikoláš visits Lazar to ask for help in keeping Captain Pivo at bay, Lazar responds by beating Mikoláš up; in retribution, the Kozlik clan returns and kills Lazar’s mentally challenged son, and abscond with daughter Marketa (who is a virgin, promised to the church), who Mikoláš later rapes. And all that in the first half of this nearly 3 hour epic! There’s some crazy revelations in the second part, which include the fact that Alexandra and Adam are siblings, and it was retribution for their earlier incestuous affair that took Adam’s arm. And the part where Marketa gets Stockholm syndrome and starts a relationship with Mikoláš. Or a roving priest named Bernard, who seems to carry on relationships with sheep, and is in constant fear of bands of wolves taking “his love.” I can’t pretend to understand all the imagery. While it is often called an avant-garde or experimental film, it still retains a strong linear plot (thankfully, because I typically do not care for experimental stuff). The whole thing is made up of lots of little vignettes, which still follow a linear whole story, but each may focus on a particular character. Sometimes the segment will start in the middle somewhere, and then backtrack to say how we got there. It can be a little tough to follow at first, until you get the hang of it. The director is often lumped in with fellow Czech New Wave artists, but this film stands apart. When I think of the New Wave, I think of the vitality and exuberance of youth; this film, while it shares stylistic elements of New Wave pictures, smashes the gayety and presents a dark and unknown path for the young, perfectly joining style and substance as few films can. The ending, with Marketa realizing her destiny after the fateful battle between Klozlik’s family and basically everybody else, is perfect. ★★★★★
- TV series currently watching: Interview With the Vampire (season 1)
- Book currently reading: War of the Twins by Weis & Hickman




































