Chronique morave

Although I was unaware of the name, Vlastimil Brodsky, I recognised the face immediately from his obituary photograph in a newspaper the other day, a face as distinctive and unforgettable as that of Louis Jouvet or Michel Simon. Brodsky brought distinction to a number of fine Czech films particularly in the '60's. but it is his performance of Ocenas, the organist in Vojtech Jasny's "All My Good Countrymen", that I remember most. The obituary prompted me to take another look at this fine cinematic product of the Prague Spring. Unfortunately it followed the fate of two other politically liberating films of the period, "Funeral Ceremony" and "The Ear", by being banned during the years of repression that followed, only to resurface with the collapse of communism. Their rediscovery was one of the most important cinematic events in recent years. The title "All My Good Countrymen" is not without irony as this epic tale of Czech village life from shortly after the end of the second world war concentrates on the activities of a group of friends who are not beyond reproach in siding with a politically corrupt regime for material advancement. Are these the "good countrymen" of the title or does it refer to the rest of the village who scorn these petty authority figure with silent contempt? By portraying the friends sometimes with quirky affection and sometimes as petty bullies, the director displays a certain moral ambiguity that makes one feel that the message behind it all has not quite been fully thought out. Another area of puzzlement is the three strange deaths that punctuate the narrative flow. They have an almost dreamlike quality, but, powerful as they are, their significance is not entirely clear. Where the film wholly succeeds however is in its wonderful evocation of time and place. The passing of seasons, particularly winter landscapes, have a beauty that is quite breathtaking. The symphonic score by Svatopluk Havelka, a rich tapestry of ostinato figures, beautifully compliments these landscape interludes while an unaccompanied trombone solo highlights the three moments of death. But it would be wrong to give the impression that "All My Good Countrymen" is a film where style matters more than substance. The use of a silent village crone, generally seen in closeup at moments of crucial drama, brilliantly sums up the stupidity of so many of the main characters' actions - an inspired use of a type of wordless Greek Chorus. In fact the film is often at its most powerful when it uses silence. Note the wonderfully poignant use of gesture when the honest young farmer takes leave of his family on his arrest. It is at moments such as this that the film achieves greatness.

I think that, unlike common propaganda, where things are more black and white, good and bad, 'All My Good Countrymen' illustrates where real people, that are just like the rest of us (more or less), are capable of being very unjust and inhumane, when using the excuse of supposedly working to benefit "the people", and especially when given ultimate power over others. The most common human motivation is greed/selfishness. In a "free enterprise" model, those motivations can be turned into positives, because someone with those motives often is willing to work very hard to achieve his desires, and the increased production is a benefit to society (assuming that the proper laws are in place eliminate the worst abuses and corruptions of capitalism). Under Communism, the will to produce is stunted via collectivization, because the fruits of your labor are taken from you without recompense. The peasant and serf labor was in for a big surprise. The only way to success was through politics (not through hard work or skilled labor). The Agitators, Commissars, Bureaucrats and Apparatchiks reaped the benefits of your hard work, and were much harder taskmasters that the old landowners. As shown in this film, the small independent farmers had it the worst of all, because everything they had was taken from them via collectivization, then they were forced to produce as before, but without gaining the benefits of their labor. The "agitators" portrayed in 'All My Good Countrymen' never do anything but complain and steal what others have accomplished by hard work. It has been said "You have to break some eggs to make an omelet", but as this film shows, it's your eggs, but it's their omelet.

Many people considered Stalin to be a Hero and a fine fellow, with a great sense of humor. Of course, we don't know what they thought when Stalin had them all shot six months later.

The end of the War brings a Communist government; in a small Moravian village, the hard-working, close-knit community of farmers find themselves forced to collectivize... and the singing ends.

It's a diffusely told story, centered around Radoslav Brzobohatý, who fights an increasingly lonely war of his own to remain his own man, and yet part of the community. Can a few aging farmers fight corrupt men backed by an uncaring government?

Well, this seems to have been a last gasp of individualism in a rise sea of oppression. Yes, all the scenes of beauty are group scenes, where the people gather, musical instruments magically appear, and people sing. But the brass band playing the old songs vanishes, and the most beautiful scene, where the neighbors come to help Brzobohatý harvest his wheat, is worthy of Millais.

An excellent film that takes a group of villagers as allegorical characters for Czechoslovakian society. The film follows these people from post-WWII (and pre- communism) to the late 50s, watching as they and their village change. In terms of the unescapable creeping feeling of dread, I was reminded of Ang Lee's _The Ice Storm_. While the film is clumsy at times (some shots or plot shifts might have been done better), the cinematography can be very resourceful. Watch also for the classic symbols of Czech identity: the geese, the white horse (from the legend of Libuse), and the old women (from the Czech novel _Babicka_). These mirror the plot nicely.

'All my compatriots' (original title ' Vsichni dobrí rodáci') tells the story of seven friends from a small town in Czechoslovakia and we join them in 1948, they are on the wrong side of the Iron Curtain and the new Communism is thrust on this agricultural society. The seven friends are used as a vehicle to shine a light on the shortcomings of collectivisation and the corruption that seemed to be concomitant when power is used to deprive others of wealth.

The story slowly distils to one of resistance albeit within the spirit of the law and that is in the shape of Frantisek. This was promptly banned by the Soviets after the 1968 invasion and sadly never had the impact it should have done and that is despite winning Best Director and the Jury Prizes at the 1969 Cannes Film Festival.

It is filmed and framed very beautifully and all of the acting is of the highest calibre. It has a maudlin quality that is juxtaposed against the strength of will displayed by some of the main players. Some of the shots will stay with you too and very real people have been used to give added authenticity to the whole thing. This is a film for those who really appreciate cinema in all its glorious forms.