Rozmarné léto

Three middle-aged friends -- Rudolf Hrusínský, Vlastimil Brodský, and Frantisek Rehák -- are sitting around the nearly deserted swimming resort Hrusínský runs with his wife. A traveling magician and his assistant appear. The magician demonstrates some mediocre sleight-of-hand. It is his assistant, however, pretty, sixteen-year-old Jana Preissová, who causes a stir. The older men lust after her.... but can they do anything about it?

Director Jirí Menzel's next film after CLOSELY WATCHED TRAINS suggests something pitched between Renoir and Bergman. Yet its more normative characters struggle with their mediocrity to be particularly interesting, and end up being mildly buffoonish. Since it was released during Prague Spring, it can be viewed as a satire of the Czechoslovakian government. Or it can be viewed as a satire of the people of the nation, lusting after things they cannot have, nor would they know what to do with them if they got them. I found it to be a series of character studies; hampered by the low-affect acting, it seems a lot less interesting than its reputation, developed during its decades of unavailability, would have it. However, that's not surprising. As the movie points out, things you cannot have are more attractive.

Pretty good-looking, very good music, erotic, relaxed, and poetic and philosophic in a pretty similar way to Godard's films from the 90ies. Unfortunately, people who do not speak Czech will probably miss many points of the dialogue.

8 out of 10.

As the previous reviewers have noted this second film from Czech New Wave director Jiri Menzel has loveliness, charm, whimsicality, gentleness, wistfulness, lightness, airiness, poignancy and, of course, capriciousness. What it most sedulously does not have are laughs, at least in great profusion or even, for that matter, many chuckles or upturned corners of the mouth. And as this film is intended to be a comedy that is a significantly painful omission. Give it a C, mostly for the director's ability to channel the atmosphere of a provincial town in Czechoslovakia in lazy, slumbrous summer. And the gals are definitely on the sexy side.

This is a Czech film made behind the Iron Curtain. Granted, Czechs were among the most liberal of the Easter Bloc occupied nations, but this will still be conservative, albeit a charming form of conservative. There's nothing edgy here, unless you're a soviet censor.

As Commie flix tend to do, this is talky. Very talky. But not in a bad way. But when foreign films talk a lot, that means we will read a lot of subtitles. Unlike the more familiar rhythms of german, french or dutch films, Commie flix tend to talk a lot about intellectual subjects, despite doing it in laymen's conversational styles. If you're in a philosophical mood, and you want to glue your eyeballs to the screen, then this may be for you.

Most of the Czech films I've seen follow a familiar pattern: a history lesson revolving around war or occupation, along with lots of bohemian irony and iconic images, usually of Prague. This one's different. I enjoyed Kolya, and Menzel's other films (Closely Watched Trains and I Served the King of England), but I prefer this one for leaving out the pathos.

The irony would come through more clearly if I spoke any Czech beyond "dobre den", but this film still has plenty. A tattered little town with unpaved streets, drenched by miserable summer rain the whole way through. A visit by a fleabag circus supplies a limited amount of merriment - about what the little town deserves. About all they've come to expect, too, in their sodden little corner of Bohemia.

I wouldn't have watched this film at all if I hadn't already "read" the book. Josef Capek's witty illustrations for the novel led me to a movie which is every bit as good, and which fills in the details I couldn't read between the pictures.