Valerie a týden divu

This is the best "girl gets her period" film I've ever seen. The week she comes of age, Valerie sees sex through many lenses. It is a very confusing time for her, full of danger and sensuality.

The film makes great use of color and music. The entire feature has a dreamy quality, not least because of the relentless and uneven symbolic representations. This film should be shown to every teenage girl, who should then go back and watch it again and again as she ages.

A "coming of age" story like no other, this Czech Gothic fairytale is possibly the most lyrical film ever made. Valerie, a 13 year old staying with her grandmother while her parents are away has her first menstruation, triggering a series of interlocking dreams about lustful vampires who prey upon her youth. Despite the monstrous goings-on, the film is a buoyant and sensual pleasure to watch. The camera-work and composition never ceases to amaze and the energy of its tuneful folklike score propels the convoluted story forward effortlessly. And much credit should be given to Jaroslava Schallerova as Valerie who inhabits the role with the right balance of knowledge and wonder

The lovely and enchanting Jaroslava Schallerova stars as the title character, a girl on the verge of womanhood. She exists in a medieval fantasy land where such things as vampires and witches can exist. She seeks to learn the truth about her parentage, encountering a rich variety of characters. Among them are the likable, well-meaning Eaglet and the creepy "man" known as The Polecat.

This won't appeal to everybody; some viewers may believe it to be too "arty". But it's richly rewarding for those looking for an unconventional take on genre fare. Drawing inspiration from fairy tales such as "Alice in Wonderland" and "Little Red Riding Hood", director Jaromil Jires draws us into an intoxicating atmosphere. Music, costumes, and sets are all absolutely breathtaking. Jires dares to take his time with the pacing, yet his film runs a scant 77 minutes. It touches upon such subjects as innocence (and the loss of same), jealousy, vanity, sex, religion, and decadence. Viewers should be aware, however, that despite the presence of elements such as vampires and witches, that this is anything but a typical horror film.

Extremely well acted, heartfelt, and thoughtful, this is an interesting entertainment. It would play very well as part of a double feature with the American film "Lemora: A Child's Tale of the Supernatural". It may not have much in the way of gore or nudity, but it doesn't need these things to make an impact.

Eight out of 10.

In the 1960s British TV screened a good number of European Fairy tales like 'The Singing Ringing Tree' for children (probably because they were cheap product). They were often strange and grotesque evoking a real sense of the uncanny nature of pre-sanitised fairy tales. Valerie and Her Weeks of Wonders is made in this vein. Redemption may market the film as a 'virgin comes into sexuality' 70s softcore film, but it offers something more than this. There is an enormous amount of care taken in the film's visual composition and the music. Standing on the border between horror and fairy tale it brings out the latent combination of erotic desire, aggression and fantasy that links the two genres. At times the film borders on the sublime with its evocation of dreamlike imagery. Centred around Valerie's quest to discover the identity of her parents they are revealed to be duplicitous shape changers - at one moment a handsome man or woman and the next a hideous vampire beast. Eschewing the rules of Hollywood linearity and character continuity this film re-creates subjective space and affords us a welcome space in which to dream.

An aimless but fascinating surreal fantasy – a sort of adult-oriented version of 'Alice In Wonderland' with a distinctly Eastern European flavor – VALERIE AND HER WEEK OF WONDERS was a revelation for me, and I am very glad I went the extra mile to acquire a copy of it on VHS.

The narrative makes little sense and, like I said, it does not lead to anywhere in particular, but the film's trump card is the incredible (and often poetic) beauty of its images. The film ostensibly deals with the sexual awakening of a teenage girl, though the way director Jaromil Jires goes about this is extremely complex yet effortlessly captivating, and very enjoyable to boot. It takes in a variety of dazzling psycho-sexual concepts drawn from religion and mythological folklore which come off as both inextricably modern and deeply provocative still.

The film features a number of sexual perversions throughout, which is pretty amazing when considering that the lead actress was only 13 years old at the time (though nothing too explicit is ever shown): she is involved in lesbianism, incestuous/Oedipal familial relationships, and is even subjected to an attempted rape by a young priest – apart from being shown in various states of undress! In this way, it would seem to cater to the tastes of practically every broad-minded film-goer one can think of (be it art-house, horror or erotica), though it is arguable how well-known this film really is – which is a pity.

The few elements we find here of the traditional horror film are worth expanding upon, however: we get a number of vampires (the leading member bears an unmistakable resemblance to the Max Schreck of NOSFERATU [1922]) who periodically revert to their formerly more human and youthful selves, if only to further disorientate Valerie and ensnare her in their volatile and greedy schemes. Finally we 'witness' Valerie being burned alive at the stake (as a witch), a punishment instigated by the same priest who had earlier seduced her. Still, she manages to emerge unscathed from her every crisis, thanks to a special talisman (in the shape of a pair of earrings) and the help of her goofy but devoted brother/lover, who goes by the name of Eagle!

Jaroslava Schallerova, who plays Valerie, is lovely and utterly charming throughout, striking a perfect balance between wide-eyed innocence and a curious sexual urge. Photography, sets, costumes and make-up are all wonderful (if obviously done on a low budget) - and the accompanying choral music is beautiful indeed, almost ethereal.

The by-now deleted Redemption PAL tape presented the film in a full-screen format (I'm not sure if this is the correct ratio or not); the print was far from pristine but perfectly acceptable for an obscure item such as this. I wonder who owns the U.S. rights, as I would love to see it get a much-deserved renaissance on DVD.

I cannot say whether VALERIE AND HER WEEK OF WONDERS was actually a one-off for this Czech film-maker, as I know very little about his other work. The only Jaromil Jires film available anywhere at the moment is THE JOKE (1969), by way of a reportedly substandard edition from Facets Video on VHS and DVD.