Horící ker

A powerful story about the events surrounding the self-immolation of a Czech student Jan Palach. He protested against the invasion of Czechoslovakia by setting himself on fire and his single act became a timeless rallying symbol against the Soviet invasion and the subsequent oppression by the communist establishment.

The film is exquisite in how it combines historic events, inner struggles of the main characters, courtroom drama, investigative techniques and deep divisions in the society. Realistic acting and the portrayal of Prague and Czech villages, domestic and institutional scenes deserve much of the credit for keeping you interested through the three main stories interwoven with many characters.

Bravery and activism are contrasted with lethargy, deceit and self-preserving acts of betrayal that each citizen faced in their own way. The choices that the characters had to make had implications on their families, colleagues and on their conscience. The young lawyer who makes a decision for a moral stand that will affect the well being of her family. The brave students who look for ways to honour Palach's sacrifice at a great risk to themselves. The policeman who enforces the will of the regime while struggling with his own integrity until he can no longer take it and defects. The journalist, the nurse, the teacher and many others who face such pressure to side with the regime that they choose a betrayal over telling the truth.

All the elements of this movie work well together - the dialog, acting, screen writing and cinematography.

A history lesson well worth the 4+ hours of running time of this 3-part movie.

This is not just the story of Jan Palach and his self-immolation in protest against the political oppression of the communists in Czechoslovakia 1969 but also the story of many people involved in his case, especially his mother.

There are some extremely sensitive scenes in this tremendous film of how political oppression works with its fatal immeasurable consequences for individuals, whose lives more often than not are ruined by bureaucrats who are unaware of it but victims themselves of the system.

The mother here is an ordinary elderly lady, one of hundreds of thousands of mothers whose sufferings, fates and quiet martyrdom never become known, but the focus of this film is lifting forth this mother with an overwhelming impression on those who must empathize with her. It's the most difficult part, and the actress playing her is more than just convincing - it is, as Polanski would have termed it, totally organic. The psychological torture she is subjected to for suing the authorities for slandering her son after his suicide is more cruel than any physical torture and must break her to mind and soul.

This film is almost documentary in its detailed psychological account of this sensitive case with all its victims and at the same time a masterpiece of suspense. I have never seen anything like it, while closest to it might be Margaretha Von Trotta's similar psychological insightful next-to documentaries of human suffering under autocracies of mental cruelty more severe and evil than any ordinary open cruelty for its carefully intentional inhumanity.

Still, Agnieszka Holland makes you understand all these pawns of fate as no more than human caught up in the human destructiveness of totalitarianism, which gets worse the longer it lasts, the only comfort of which is that it is always doomed.

The original film is almost 4 hours, there is a slightly abbreviated version of only 3, but it is well worth acquiring the longer version.

Agnieszka Holland's new historical miniseries, about the 1969 public self-immolation of Prague student Jan Palach and the ensuing fallout, is possibly the biggest triumph of her career.

As with the recent trend of films like Carlos, certain miniseries are being given limited runs in theaters when they were helmed from beginning to end by a well-respected art-house circuit director.

At nearly four hours, Burning Bush is hardly a chore to watch, though. It's a breakneck historical epic, political thriller, and courtroom drama all rolled into one. The result is some sort of cinematic Czech national anthem, but also a reminder to anyone of the limitless potential one act of seemingly-futile protest can have against injustice.

The story is a dazzling juggling act of a large cast of vibrant and fascinating characters. From beginning to end it's consistently powerful without needing to resort to mustache-twirling villains or faultless heroes.

a special film. a real special film. for the artistic virtues. for the case of Jan Palach, who becomes more than a page of history behind the Iron Curtain. for atmosphere and for the mechanism of political system. and for the rhythm of a story of survive and conscience, courage and fears. it is easy to say than a film by Margarethe von Trotta is , always, a revelation as new perspective about old, known facts. but "Burning Bush" has the science to explain not a case but a reality, the same in the Communist camp, but, in same measure, profound Czechoslovakian . because its virtue is its honesty. to show the pain and fight and idealism of a period. the terror of authorities. the importance of society word. the vulnerability. and pure emotions. more than touching or impressive, it is an useful film. this fact defines it. and transforms it in proof of the basic virtues of humankind.

We decided to watch this HBO Europe mini-series because we admire the work of Agnieszka Holland.

My wife and I were teens when this took place, my wife was in Poland and I was in the US. I remember watching the invasion on television and wondering why no one was coming to the aid of the protesters.

This film is expertly done and the series captures the feel of post invasion Prague. We were absolutely captivated by the series and my wife said it was accurate portrayal of life behind the Iron Curtain.

A lot of people don't enjoy films with subtitles but if you can beyond that you will be absolutely captivated by this masterpiece.