Prag

A Danish married couple Christoffer and Maja (Mads Mikkelsen and Stine Stengade) arrives in Prague, Czech Republic to sort out the paperwork regarding the death of Christoffer's estranged father. Assisted by a local lawyer and friend of the late father (Borivoj Navrátil), the couple waits for the bureaucracy to be cleared and runs into problems with their shattering marriage and general alienation in life.

The city of Prague becomes a symbol for the forlorn state of the main characters: they don't speak the language, the Czech customs regarding the handling of the dead seem odd and overly emotional to the reserved Christoffer and the locations and people in general seem closed, stale, rude and introverted. The feelings of alienation, sadness and anger that so perfectly come to life on the serene face of Mads Mikkelsen are only emphasized by the gray weather, architecture and infrastructure that clearly have once been colourful and happy, just like Christoffer and Maja's life. The film is not entirely humourless pondering about the impossibility of happiness though: the bizarre misunderstandings with the locals provide small moments of dark humour, and the character of a beautiful pub singer Alena (Jana Plodková) shows that some human understanding is always possible even over the language barrier.

One thing I didn't care for as much was the prominence of hand-held camera-work and often outright shaky shots during close-ups. In a way the restless movements augment the feel of naturalism of the conversations, but I tend to find them more distracting than fitting. The music often sounds highly emotional, even sentimental, but ultimately works effectively, especially at the end. Despite minor complaints, Prag is over all a satisfactory meditation on the nature of relationships between humans. The key is to gain an understanding of what's important in life, to refind the lost connection to those around you – the film is not hopeless, but does not content itself with easy answers either.

A full coffin shown on an airport x-ray machine. The historic beauty of Prague. A lawyer who offers his services at no cost, no strings. The handbag of a wealthy woman and its contents thrown to a crowd in a market square.

When we take elements out of context, we could make an infinite number of stories out them. Tragedy, comedy, romance. When we look at a relationship, we maybe select the details that fit a particular keyhole view. Movies generally simplify even further. To Ole Christian Madsen's credit, he at least tries to remind us that reality is rarely as simple.

Christoffer (Mads Mikkelsen - the bad guy in Casino Royale) is taking his wife Maja to Prague. Perhaps he hopes that a weekend in this romantic city will be good for them, but the underlying purpose is that his father has died there and he needs to sign some papers before the body can be brought back to Denmark. Dry humour is mixed with sadness due to language difficulties. Maja asks the hotel for an adaptor plug and they send an iron (with polite reassurances).

Miscommunication is also reflected in their relationship. They seem to get on well, but then Christoffer confronts his wife with evidence of her unfaithfulness, at the same time saying he forgives he and wants to make their fourteen-year marriage work. She doesn't think she is the one that needs to be forgiven. Christoffer's father has left him an audiocassette. They don't have a tape player and have to go to a jazz bar to hear it. Nothing is what it seems, and the situation unravels before us in a constantly unpredictable way.

Prag dissects the pain of separation, not with the shouting and screaming of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, but with the equally cutting knife of toleration and flawed understanding. As Christoffer comes to terms with possibility of life without Maja, he explores the question of identity and also the sense of 'knowing' another person. How do you define someone? Their job? Their likes? Their relationship(s)? Are we the result of the things that have happened to us or the sum of the kindness we show to others. With the analytic attitude typical of his profession as a lawyer, Christoffer tries to delineate who he is to Maja but she won't play the same game - at least verbally. Fourteen years of feelings are not thrown away so easily when there is goodwill present, even in the face of what might be irrevocable breakdown. When Christoffer meets his father's ex-housekeeper, Alena, he sees some warmth and human goodness uncomplicated by the vagaries of language. At one point, we see the two of them in silhouette, feelings beautifully portrayed and uncoloured by words.

With the various languages in subtitles, we are privy to more information than any of the characters. "We're always ashamed and never good enough for the world," says Alena (in Czech). A lesson that Danish Christoffer cannot fathom.

With the Czech lawyer (tidying up Dad's affairs for nothing), there is some stumbling conversation - they have enough words between them for halting conversation. "Life is hard," he tells Christoffer. "You bend it or you break."

Prag has a more 'European' feel than much of Danish cinema. It lingers on detail, encourages the viewer to consider subtleties. Intellectually, it touches on areas of breakdowns in communication as did the more ambitious Babel, but it does so with a gentle warmth and hope in the face of adversity. For all its sadness of theme, Prag is a strangely beautiful and moving film.

This movie is in one word great. The movie is set in a great atmosphere, and the two main characters acting is superb. It gives most people a chance to relate to one or the other sides of the troubles haunting their relationship. Several times along the movie i had a lump in my throat, and felt in contact with the main character. No scenes seem to be out of place, and the movie is by no means dragged to long. As mentioned, i could easily see elements of myself in the male character - and my girlfriend could relate to the actions - and reactions - of the female character. I have rarely left a movie-theater actually "moved" by a movie (often contemplating though), but this movie did it for me, leaving me thinking about my own relationship.

I would recommend this movie if you are looking for a good emotional movie - especially for couples - where my guess is that both of you will enjoy it.

Excellent little Danish film about a marriage on the verge to falling apart. Superb acting from Mads Mikkelsen, who shows that he's as home in a small setting, as in the latest Bond film.

Stine Stengade, who plays his wife, is for me a new experience, but her acting is very impressive, not least as the neglected partner in a long marriage.

The setting is a trip from Denmark to Prag to collect the corpse of Mads's father, who has lived away from his family in Prag, the last twenty, or so. Mads had waited year after year for a sign of life from his father, a visit, or just a letter, but nothing, till he is summoned to take care of his father's remains.

Unusually, for a mixed nationality cast, in this case of Czech and Danish actors and film crew, it seems to have to have worked perfect.

It could have been perfect, but a few twists in the story are not fully exploited, like did the wife have a lover, or not?! The SMSes on her mobile phone could have been a way for her to get him to react, couldn't it?! A happy ending hadn't spoiled the story, would it?

Incredible performances, patient story telling and an intriguing and moving plot combine to create a dramatic and touching film about a marriage falling apart and the hauntings of a recently deceased father, set in one of the world's most beautiful cities.

Ultimately, though, it's a film about broken communication and the outcomes that evolve. Between the main character and his wife, between the main character and the girl occupying his father's flat and between the main character and his father.

Those who love European cinema should not miss this beauty of a film. It's original and mesmerizing.