O Cremador

"The Cremator" is Karel Kopfrkingl, played beautifully by Rudolf Hrusinsky, a man who fought for Germany in the Great War (World War I) and is now a crematorium operator in Czechoslovakia in the 1930s. His friend, a member of the Nazi party, tries to steer him towards fighting for Germany again, but will Karel give up his comfortable life and semi-Jewish family?

I wasn't sure what I was getting into with this one. When I found out that Dark Sky was releasing it, I instantly found myself interested. And despite having no knowledge of Czech horror or Czech cinema in general, Dark Sky did not disappoint. "The Cremator" truly is a forgotten classic. Who knew that as early as 1968 that Czechoslovakia was releasing films that were well-scripted, well-acted and most interestingly... extremely well-shot with quality footage (decades ahead of Italian cinema).

Actor Rudolf Hrusinsky and director Juraj Herz are a perfect combination when combining black comedy, morbidity, and what the box describes as "surrealism" and "expressionism". The surrealism is evident: the first ten minutes contain many camera shots that warp our sense of safety and familiarity, calling to mind for me "The Holy Mountain". I can't think of another film that is even close to these two in this regard.

The pace is steady, with Karel's descent a gradual, but well-paced journey for the viewer. Can a "sensitive" man be transformed into a Jew-hating, violence-loving monster who can turn away from his family? I won't say how far he goes, but some key scenes involve a carnival's haunted wax museum and the unusual execution of some cats. And that's just the beginning.

Of course, those who don't like black and white films or subtitles are going to be scared away. You are missing out, my friends. "The Cremator" is visually stunning and grips you with a dead, icy hand that cannot be denied. 2009 has had a handful of good films released, but most are stinkers. "Cremator" is no stinker... this film has been embalmed perfectly and is as fresh today -- if not more fresh -- than it was on the day it was filmed. Do not rent a copy -- buy one!

From time to time there are films of timeless quality. Born out of the chaos of a specific historical situation, which manage to find images, formulate words and condense signs. From the vortex of the Eastern European uproar of the late 1960s, marked by the trauma of World War II, The Cremator is one such work.

This Czech film delves deep into political horror and psychological study drama. Its a satirical, gloomy vision of the unhealthy consequences of totalitarianism exemplified in Nazi paranoia. Blood, race, nationality, ideology and party above family, friendship, with death as liberation/elimination.

The movie has an extraordinary atmosphere to it, it takes the shape of a walking nightmare, with a gloomy and ghostly musical accompaniment, vast use of wide angle photo to distort the images with surreal perspectives. Which provokes both fascination and disgust.

The Cremator is not perfect, but the rather odd mixure of the creative photo, exceptional story, marvelous story telling and superb performance by Rudolf Hrusinsky, results in a timeless movie gem.

I saw rather a lot of East European 60s cinema back in the day but had never heard of this one. Seems it only came to light recently so that explains that because otherwise I was bound to have stumbled upon it as it is such an amazing film. From the stunning opening credits, beyond the startlingly close-up shots of a family visit to the zoo, and on as the cremator of the title goes from seeming curious, to creepy and downright cuckoo, and worse. Spellbinding imagery plus the doings of this extremely worrying man hold ones attention throughout as this caring family man leads us and everybody else to the abyss. There are so many ways in which the director ensures that we follow his narrative flow despite ourselves. This is a very uncomfortable film to watch. The way the cremator has to touch everybody, dead and alive, the way he must comb his hair after that of a corpse and then his own family but there is so much worse to come.

This film of Juraj Herj, like Morgiana, has a decidedly gothic feel. Karl Kopfrkingl, the owner of a modern crematorium gets creepier by the minute. At the beginning of the film at a family outing we see a snow leopard, peacock, tiger, snake, and a lion - Karl makes a comment that "cages are for mute persons." Later at a fair everyone else seems to be having a wonderful time; Karl looks quite glum. But when they enter a "chamber of horrors" exhibit, he's quite happy and intrigued while everyone else is shocked (it reminds me of one of Charles Addams' cartoons with everyone in a movie theatre crying, except for one man who seems positively overjoyed by the cinema situation).

In a sense, Karl lives for dying - or at least lives to compassionately cremate as many people as he can, releasing and purifying their souls for another life. He seems to have a bit of an obsession with Tibetan Buddhism, carrying with him a tome on the Dalia Lama's palace and Buddhist customs.

It doesn't take much flattery and cajoling by Nazi sympathizers to put Karl totally over the edge of sanity . . .

Quite an incredible film, with good use of wide-angle lenses and closeups to indicate Karl's increasing derangement.

Many reviews seem to miss the complicated layers of Czech culture, and hence view The Cremator only through western lens.

The politics and historical background of this film play heavily into the story. The director Juraj Herz had been a prisoner in a concentration camp and thankfully survived the Holocaust and went on to make movies. So the film was about the Nazi occupation made by a Jewish director who survived the Holocaust and later filmed during Czechoslovakia's oppressive communist regime (following the Prague Spring). Quite a complicated layer for Americans to swallow. The Czech people are a cynical bunch and understandably trust no type of government. Their culture and worldview (much like that of eastern Europe) remain a mystery to most Americans.

With that, he film was neither horrific nor depressing. It was a wicked comedy-Czech style, if you will. The cinematography was heavily stylized, almost Kafkaesque, and revealed a theatrical satire with odd moments of humor. The idea that this ordinary man with a mundane job could morph into a führer-like character illustrates perfectly the Czech skepticism toward humanity. The movie exposes the stupidity of people and politics, and its fatalistic outlook results in a clever tragicomedy.