Postriziny

And not only for Easterners. Of course, it is clearly not the cheap and easy humour you can face in that kind of slapstick silly comedies from Hollywood nowadays.

As many times in the tandem Hrabal/Menzel, the film exudes sense of humour, "joie de vivre" and natural acting. Characters are full of charm, flesh and blood, and life... yes, Central European life after WWI (some visits to the area are still a good help in order to take better understanding... but be careful because later the understanding becomes LOVE forever, I can assure)

Just waiting the next one by Menzel, based on another classic by Bohumil Hrabal: I served the King of England.

Personal note: I have been in love with Maryska (literary homage by Hrabal to his mother)since the blessed day I read the first lines in the book... some years ago.

A favorite that is so comforting. Pleasing in every way. The film displays a lush world and conveys an atmosphere of nostalgia. Here is a balance of serenity, humor, and gravity that is nuanced and intelligent. Czechs and those who love Czech films and literature will of course cherish this film, but anyone with a heart and an eye for beauty will appreciate it too.

If only this film were easier to get outside of Europe. I first saw this on Russian television years ago, and currently watch it almost every day on the Internet. My wish is to finally own it in some form - video, DVD - it doesn't matter. Watching this makes a bad day better, and is a simple way to to make anytime special, like a cup of tea or a great book.

Speaking of books, I cannot wait to read the book this film is based on. Thanks to all others who have reviewed it.

The film also has a way of making one crave good food and beer!

The Czech movie industry is famous for its masterpieces. And when they meet a genius as Hrabal the outcome is excellent. The story is about a country-side brewery somewhere in Czech republic, at the beginning of the 20th century (maybe right after WWI). We get a very good picture of the nature of czech people influenced by the rigurous Germans (represented by the manager of the brewery) and the cheerful slavic nature of men who like good food and lots of beer. We get also a glimpse of the beauty of the Czech women in the person of the wife of the manager. The movie shows also very well the change of the society in those times. At the beginning everything is happening slowly, everybody is calm, and gradually things quicken up, distances shorten and the world is changing radically.

If you like american comedy, please don't watch this movie. You won't understand it. But if you like to see a good European movie, you should not miss this.

The best movie of Czech genius Jiri Menzel (after the Oscar-winning 'Ostre sledované vlaky' of course). Too bad that Bohumil Hrabal, the writer of Menzel's best movies is practically unknown for the "Western" audience, they apparently ignore these gems from behind the former "iron curtain". Menzel is one of those great Czech New Wave directors (along Milos Forman, who managed to get into the spotlight by moving to the USA) who established this very special Czech style of movie-making: sensitive while humorous, joyful while tragic, with very intimate and thought-provoking stories. I just love the style of Menzel who can put this unreal, incredibly funny character of uncle Pepin to the screen so well that it actually works better than in the novels of Hrabal. Don't miss it.

The western world paid its dues to Jiri Menzel with Closely Watched Trains, Czechoslovak cinema enjoyed its time in the spotlight for about five years, then as the Soviet tanks moved in on Prague and the UN sat and watched in carefully outraged anticipation, Milos Forman and a bunch of people left for greener pastures, those who stayed behind to make movies devised new ways to sidestep and confuse the Soviet mechanism, and everyone else went home to find the next New Wave/foreign national school of cinema to praise in dumbfounded amazement that movies were actually made outside of LA, Rome, and Paris. Ironically enough, the legendary Filmove Studio Barrandov that lent considerable resources at the hands of the Czech New Wave are now hiring out to major Hollywood productions.

My girlfriend is half-Czech which means I'm very lucky to get an insider's view of that culture. It's also funny because she doesn't know the famous Oscar material, Closely Watched Trains or Firemen's Ball or The Shop on Main Street, but she was showing me the other day a VHS of a 1931 comedy that is apparently a family favourite. I perfectly understand that because I'm Greek and Theo Angelopoulos is only discussed/ridiculed as "artsy" for his pretentiously long shot by people who haven't sat through one of his movies - he is the prestige cinema we export and send to Cannes every so many years but it's not what we watch as a peoples. Anyway, I wouldn't have seen this otherwise and I've seen no one mention it.

This is one of those movies the Criterion establishment has not managed to salvage for a world audience yet remains a household national classic in its home country. And it's not one of those movies that don't translate well because, like Closely Watched Trains or most Czech New Wave films for that matter, the humour is mostly physical and visual in the manner of silent cinema, the characters are drawn in identifiable ways because we may need cultural context to understand a ronin or a geisha but a neglectful boss is a neglectful boss in any language, although this is what Italians did in their spaghettis and the Czech always refined/elevated their characters above simple stereotype. Thus the fake priest in Fararuv Konec does the small village better spiritual service than the real ones and the leering doctor in this one is painted in gentlemanly colors. It's the comedy of the running gag and the pratfall so that the viewer is not even required to understand/decipher the political allegory behind it to at least enjoy it. Indeed a running gag in the film is the mention of silent comedian Lupino Lane and the owners of the brewery where the film takes place complain, when one of their meetings is turned into chaos and mockery, that this is not a Charlie Chaplin movie.

This is a movie where the brewery manager's earnest attempts at professionalism and seriousness are sidetracked by a mocking universe where a motorcycle will never start and where his annoying, loud-voiced, brother destroys his domestical peace, at some degree Bohumil Hrabal takes a jab at the unbearable lightness of being, or as the wife says about her husband who moves around in a constant scowl, with slumped shoulders, "he has the muscles of a gladiator but he feels like a skinned rabbit". But this is also a movie about the wife, the beautiful radiant woman whom everyone at the small village oogles at and yet who glides around life like a breeze, allowing nothing to cling to her, nothing to molest that purity of life and character, and as a testament to the kind of optimist lifeaffirming film Jiri Menzel is doing, that purity is never put to a test, is never groped at or corrupted by outside circumstances. The beauty of this comes with a question; would the husband be the grouch he is if his wife wasn't as breezy as she is? Or better yet, if a person in a relationship takes the lightness for herself, does that mean the other must by necessity shoulder the unbearableness of that lightness? The end is a happy one, like the silent comedians reserved for their audience. By the same token, this is cinema that addresses a broad audience but does so in a simple refined manner. Good stuff.