Orelha

In a world where communism is really a threat to people's privacy, suspicion can drive you mad. Not only are you endlessly going over all your interactions with everyone you know, but you'll start to suspect those closest to you as well. This can build to a crescendo, until you actually find that you are being listened to. The lighting early on in this film is a great technique to build the suspense, which just adds to the insanity of communism.

Like so many other films made in Eastern Europe in the 60s and 70s, I've longed to see this gem again. Once upon a time, back in the 80s, the UK's Channel 4 used to show all kinds of weird and wonderful films into the early hours, introducing this teenager (now 36) to a new and exciting world of international cinema.

This Czech classic (banned when Dubcek's regime was toppled in '69) concerns Ludvik, a top bureaucrat, and his wife, Anna, coming home one night from a reception to find their home has been bugged (during a period of political purging). The paranoia and sleepless night sets Lunvik and Aanna against each other, and the film finally shows what it took to 'get head' in a Stalinist regime.

The acute paranoia of daily life behind the Iron Curtain haunts a petty bureaucrat after he overhears an indiscreet remark at a party and becomes convinced his house is under government surveillance. Not surprisingly, the film spent over two decades in official limbo for daring to paint an unflattering portrait of Big Brother, showing the unseen influence of the State in a society where privilege is bought at the cost of privacy. The story begins where Francis Ford Coppola's 'The Conversation' left off, with the anxious civil servant and his equally suspicious wife trapped in a claustrophobic, dark comic nightmare of hidden microphones, tapped telephones, and invisible prying eyes, all the time wondering why the axe of political expedience is aimed at their innocent necks. The scenario would be absurd if it weren't so unsettling, and succeeds as both a disturbing parable of totalitarian oppression and a perversely entertaining black comedy.

Most impressive feature, made at the end of the 60s, with Russian troops already on the streets, and not released until 1990. Shot in stark b/w, very much with the look we came to expect of the Czech New Wave of the 1960s but lacking that romantic twinkle. Here we are plunged in to the tale of a couple, she drunk, he concerned and trying to get back into their house after a lavish State function. We cut back and forth between the childlike but ominous activities at the official do and the struggle without lights or door keys at home. Much of the action between the husband and wife is shot in close-up and the discord and insult exchange is reminiscent of Whose Afraid of Virginia Woolf? But things get worse as the real paranoia of who might be listening in to their conversations becomes more worrying. The omnipresent 'Ear' probes a considerable level of paranoia and we too become involved in a terrifying scenario which may or may not imaginary. Stunning ending, both happy and very sad.

i saw this at a university art screening years ago and this is one of those rare glimpses into what one can only wonder as being one of many practically lost gems as i have never seen it available on video or screened ever again, yet this is a truly classic film. i sadly don't remember much of the plot, but this film is about the very real fear that the main character's home is bugged by state police (the ear in question). the black and white cinematography is great, but this film is all about tension. it deserves to be seen.