Kure melancholik

A beautiful film and one that will be remembered for outstanding cinematography. The camera angles are unusual, many of the shots made from above giving us a birds-eye view of the drama unfolding below. The story concerns Loysik a little country boy whose mother has been killed by a falling tree branch. Desperately lonely, he befriends a tiny chicken the sole survivor of a hen house pecked to death by marauding eagles. Loysik's visions of his smiling mother are beautifully portrayed in a kind of sepia toning with amazing dramatic back-lighting. It's a truly moving cinematic experience. There are some engaging scenes of the countryside with sudden and unexpected close-ups of a snarling dog, savage eagle or squawking chick. Hold on to your chair. It is the pet chicken that finally answers the little boy's prayers. When an accident with a lamp sets the stables on fire, the chicken's tail feathers catch alight and it dashes hither and thither among the straw spreading the fire in all directions. Loysik succumbs to the smoke and flames which engulf him. And what a dramatic ending! The director has a group of fine actors on his hands and they give earthy performances in several seductive and savage sex scenes. Leisurely days with families picnicking in the Spring sunshine are contrasted with moments of cruelty, blood and death. As Jozef the servant reflects: "Don't cry, Loysik. That's life!" This film captures life in all its saddest and h appiest moments.

This film has haunted me for years since I caught it on late night TV,. Flms from this part of the world are often profoundly bleak and honest, often brutally so. This type of film-making is the antithesis of the generic, posturing American fluff we've all become accustomed to and is comparable to Tarkovsky as his best; as opposed to Soderbergh at his worst.

I have recently been fortunate to meet a Russian friend who gets me these films and these have again and again stirred up the emotions triggered by this, my first Russian-style masterpiece. The story is simple and is summed up neatly above, but words only serve to cheapen the insight and craft of such a masterful work, if you need plot-padding like token twists and such, you'd do best to avoid this.

In closing let me say: get it, steal it, do whatever you can to let this film into your heart.

Young Loyzik's angelic mother dies, leaving him on the family farm with the unhealthy company of an ineffectual father, a pathetic aunt, and--eventually--a wicked stepmother. His only true companion is a motherless chick whose life he saved. Together they brave, for a while, the daily torments of earthly life.

For all its rich cinematography, "The Melancholic Chicken" is nearly unwatchable. Initially, the photogenic Czech countryside and well-considered shot composition promise something of a visual feast, despite some frequently self-conscious and distracting filming techniques. It soon becomes apparent, however, that the film has little idea where it is headed. It offers no plot line nor any significant character development. This leaves "The Melancholic Chicken" essentially hollow, supported only by a dreary fatalistic theme and the heavy-handed symbolic parallels between Loyzik and his pet chicken. Furthermore, director Jaroslav Brabec's constant attempts to marry sentiment and sensuous pathos are jarring and altogether unsuccessful.