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Kratky Film Praha Presents
Kyo Ltd. Presents
Briar Rose
or
The Sleeping Beauty
Brier-Rose or The Sleeping Beauty
My father and mother, a king and queen, were childless
for years, until, at last, I was born.
The festivities at my birth were marred
by that ill-omened incident of which everyone has heard.
My mother was overcome by foreboding.
It was, of course, that man.
And that ended all rejoicing.
The tale all know was concocted by the Keeper of Records.
The wearer was a fairy whom no one had invited.
Out of malice, she foretold that, at fifteen,
I should die of a spindle wound.
But kinder fairies altered the spell. My doom?
Not death but sleep.
To tint the tale with truth, spinning-wheels were burnt.
From the time on, my mother never left the palace again;
she grew pale, and her laughter was heard no more.
Pale and pensive as she was,
her beauty outshone the fairest flowers.
I loved my mother dearly.
My fifteenth birthday came.
Among my mother's robes, heavy with lingering fragrance,
for the first time in my life, I found a spinning-wheel.
Then, as I touched the spindle...
The box held a diary written by my mother when she was young.
The pages told the secret of her early love.
When, by royal order, the youth whom she loved was sent to war,
she had given him a crucifix, one of a matching pair.
The youth they told her, had died in battle.
She was still lost in grief, when my father asked for her hand.
How could she have known that the youth had returned, wounded, but alive?
"Why have you come here?"
As I heard his voice and looked into his eyes,
I knew why my mother have loved him.
"You must forgive my mother. Throughout, she loved you alone.
And that is why, even after her marriage..."
"But still she gave birth to you!"
"And I am here to take her place!"
He held me in his arms.
In my ear, he whispered my mother's name.
Back lo the palace I went, bleeding in body and soul.
And that was all.
The man was gone.
After that, I did not smile or sing and I had but little to say to anyone.
My mother seemed to sense that something had happened,
but she said nothing.
Puzzled, my father summoned many princes,
each went away again, heart-broken.
All knew the rumours spread by the Keeper or Records.
Some asked whether the tale were true.
One dwelt on the spindle to the point of impertinence.
I asked "And what sort of a spindle have you, sir?"
He turned scarlet and said no more.
He it was, they say, who gave me the nickname Brier-Rose.
At times,
I did not bother to open my eyes.
He was first call me the Sleeping Beauty.
Was my heart asleep? No... rather,
it was dead and buried in thorns forests.
Was it my soul splintering into dust?
Soon there came, from far away
a prince unaware of our loss. In time, I married him.
The prince's kiss? ll was not my lips that he kissed, but only a cup of water.
In spite of all this, after our marriage,
this palace grew brighter than before.
And what of me now?
"The royal pair lived happily ever after"... so goes the tale.
"Yes, indeed" I say.
Any other reply would seem discourteous, would it not?
Original story: Kyoko Kishida
Production Manager: Jiri Kubicek
Narration: Kyoko Kishida
Music: Svatopluk Havelka
Art Director: Jan Ruzicka
Camera: Minoru Tamura, Jan Muler
Recording: Jaroslav Detak, Isamu Kano
Editing: Jan Sladek, Hisako Aizawa
Laboratory: Barrandov Laboratory
Puppets: Kihachiro Kawamoto
Animation: Vlasta Pospislova, Hirokazu Minegishi, David Filcik, Jiri Latal, Mioko Saito
Co-ordination: Mimi Komori, Zdenka Vasiljevova
Assistant Producer: Hiroaki Suzuki, Pavla Bouckova
Producer: Alena Detakova
Assistant Director: Milan Svatos
Productions: Kyo Ltd., Kawamoto Production Ltd., Kratky Film Praha, Jiri Trnka Studio
Scenario/Direction: Kihachiro Kawamoto
Finis English text: Ann Herring
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