All language subtitles for 25 ze sedesaty cheskoslovenska nova vlna 1.ENG

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in co-production with
Slovak Film Institute, Cinemart and UPP

25 from the Sixties,
or Czechoslovak New Wave

A documentary film
Part I

Script

Sound

Editing

Directors of Photography

Production Manager

Produced by

Directed by

The success of
the Czechoslovakian New Wave

lies in a nationalization
of cinematography in 1945.

This system was to guarantee

a financial and creative
independence to Czechoslovakian film

but after 1948 it became a victim.
Of the communist manipulation.

Only a few filmmakers were able
to wrench out of this context

in the fifties, like Alfred Radok
or Vaclav Krska.

Meanwhile several generations
graduated at FAMU,

especially the last one which came
to this school around 1957,

it wrenched out of this context
because the school climate was free.

This liberalization from around 1963,
I mean political liberalization,

brought in not just a new generation
which had just been born at FAMU.

Even some old filmmakers joined them

and this state-paid freedom brought
"the Czechoslovakian film miracle".

The Czechoslovakian film gained
respect at foreign festivals,

in Venice, Cannes, Locarno,
Mannheim, or Oberhausen,

it even won some Oscar awards.

We would like to tell you a story
of the Czechoslovakian New Wave

illustrated by 25 films
and their makers,

their rise and fall caused by
the political persecution

which followed an invasion in 1968

and was caused by this
New Wave reformatory ethos.

The Sun in a Net is a new film

produced by Feature Film Studio
at Koliba, Slovakia.

It is not easy to be a film actor.

The most important thing
is to have a photogenic face.

But the director of photography
Stanislav Solomanyi

and director Stefan Uher
will find a way to deal with it.

If we were to search for
the beginnings of the New Wave,

we'd definitely come as far
as to films by Stefan Uher.

His special way of looking
at life in Bratislava city

was way ahead of the New Wave.

Such a strong and emotional attitude
had never before appeared in a film,

nor this kind of looking at lives
of young confused people

who are trying to find
their way in this world.

I don't think our film had ever
seen anything like this before.

It had been a long known fact

that literature had gotten
much much further than film.

So I persuaded Alfonz Bednar

who had just published
his new book Hours and Minutes.

The film was practically authentic.

It was the time we lived in

and it must have been reflected
in the film. See, the TV aerials?

Typical for Bratislava architecture.

Of course I didn't want to have
a sky with huge clouds in my film,

it looks like a tourist promo.

I never wanted to shoot
with the sun behind my back,

it flattens the picture.

I knew there must not be
a hard artificial light on the set

so I had to create a technical space
to gain some softer light.

- Is Mars this way? - Yes
- Is it blue? - No. Mars is red.

Is there a blue star somewhere?
What do you think?

Mum!

Its very interesting aesthetics
comes from an effort

to distinguish this film visually
from all previous Slovak films.

Its score, photography,
scouting locations,

or using collages made
by the main protagonist.

It all together created
a very emotional space of this film.

Hands, a strange image of people.

They don't lie, they can't pretend,

not even when scribbling
a line on a closet.

The Sun in a Net is considered
an initiatory work of the New Wave,

but the encounter of Uher and
Bednar was based on artistry.

The Sun in a Net is very stylized.

Fajolo doesn't photograph hands
randomly, this is a working class,

through the hands we recognize
people, their trueness,

there is also a critical view
of our fathers' generation.

Fajolo tells his father:

So I ingratiate myself
and you screwed up, Mr Brain.

And things like that.

You screwed up. That's the thing.
You're an ex-intelligent.

What did you study for?

You screwed up and I have
to take temporary jobs.

In the 60's there came up talks
about a problem of estrangement.

Individuals were growing apart
from a collective

and this topic had been a taboo
until this film, a turning point,

where people started talking
about an individuality.

Keep your hand like that.

You're a loser, Fajolo.
The solar eclipse is coming.

Stefan came across Belankova
in a TV studio and insisted on her

to wear her casual clothes.

I was to go through her wardrobe
and select costumes.

It was the touch of neorealism
and desire to get rid of stylization

and to show a real human being.

- Why talk? Are you scared?
- You're scared yourself. Idiot.

You are. Peta was asking about you.
Any idea of why?

We went purposefully after
a concrete music by Zelienka

and after sounds composed
of real noises.

The editing room was full of these
recordings which we'd choose from.

Zelienka was going through
a phase of electronic music

so they composed these sounds
in a TV electronic studio.

It was based on a visual image
of the TV aerials

as if the aerials were sending out
some electronic message

and music conformed
to this conception.

Bela, we've reached
to the bridge, haven't we?

I can sense water.

Mila, be careful,
water might be deep out there.

I guess filmmakers accepted the film
immediately and enthusiastically

while the communist nomenclature
started to search for symbols

which were in fact never there,

but they considered the blind mother
a symbol of communist blindness.

Or the bridge on the drained dam
a symbol of bemired communism.

These interpretations are absurd
but it was a reality back then.

This is such a quiet cove. So still.

The water surface is like a mirror.

Uher doesn't have any superhero
who has to fight his way through.

I'd say he is much more inward.

I think that a combination
of this metaphorical language

and a rough portrayal of reality
made him a great director.

It doesn't pay off to wait
for the Black Sun for 120 years.

Black roads, The Black Sun...

I'm not sure when Chytilova
made her film Ceiling,

I guess right after Forman's
Black Peter, what I say is:

The New Wave equals FAMU.

As far as I know, Forman called
Uher, because of The Sun in a Net,

St John the Baptist of
the Czechoslovakian New Wave.

Semafor theatre was a viva aqua
- the only source back then.

Wejust loved it.

I'll never forget those 50's
and the ideological fury.

You couldn't even mention
the word rock'n'roll back then.

Reduta was packed and Jiri
Suchy started singing:

"Rok" after "Rok" we wonder
how we change every "rok".

And there were two finks
right behind me saying:

Man, he sings in Czech.
The "rok" is Czech, man.

But what is he singing about?
We wonder?

We don't wonder, we know!

Suchy claims that he lent me
a 16mm camera but no way,

I bought it, it was a dodgy,
loud Zeiss with great optics

so I went to Suchy and Slitr

and said: Listen, I'll shoot
a home video for you two

so you can see how handsome
you were when you're old.

And they agreed.

So I started to shoot these
amateur films with this Zeiss

and a Grundig magnetophone.

Sounds good. Now you, Eva.

You're off key.

I think that my advantage was
I'd never studied directing.

Nothing was impossible for me.

Let's do it this way. We can't.
Why not? Just do it.

I could afford to do anything
thanks to my blessed ignorance.

Let's do something I believe in
something I like, the truth.

There came Yvonne Prenosilova,

an amateur singer in a fluffy
cardigan with a guitar, and bang.

Or Lorencova who is singing
the funny children song,

and then I come up and join her,
it was a pure improvisation.

Could you say your name
into the microphone for us, please?

Kresadlova.

When she introduced herself
as Kresadlova, I was sure

Forman made the name up for her.
I loved how perfectly it fitted.

As we were watching the dailies
and saw her entering the room,

she was so beautiful
and I asked Slitr:

Why didn't we actually
hired this girl into our ensemble?

And Forman, sitting behind us,
said: "Because you're idiots."

- We could sing together.
- Lf it helps... - Well, give it a go.

It was one of those things.

Those nonsense, untrue, artificial
films of the socialist realism.

Seeing normal humans on a screen,

letting them speak or sing
the way they speak every day,

it was like a vision for me.

Excuse me, can you tell me
if I passed or not?

See, we must listen to the tape
we've recorded here,

then we'll send you a letter.

See, I need to know today
because I ran away from work

and I thought I'd give them
a notice and wouldn't go back.

Alright, I'll tell you then.
You've failed.

There was a creative group
Sebor-Bor at Barrandov.

Very nice people.

One day I brought them 2 reels
of film, they watched it

and said: We'll give you
60 thousand and you finish it.

Somebody came with an idea
to put two films together,

Audition and If Only
They Ain't Had Them Bands.

Then Milos got the idea

with Mr Vostrcil
and the brass band from Kolin.

We went to Kolin,
started shooting

and I felt that soon we'd need
that father character.

So I come to the town hall

and there was
a brass band rehearsing.

So I sneak in and there was
this glass door

so I peep through a hole

and there he is, the man, and
I knew immediately, a miracle.

If it's not there, it's busy.

Mr Stela pours it on.
Are you asleep? What is it?

A party? Well, sure, I myself
tend to be sleepy after a party.

On Friday I was very sleepy.

So I run straight to the hotel.
Milos was still in bed, I say:

You've got to go with me
I have found him!

And he says: Calm down,
let me have my breakfast.

And I say: No, he can be gone
by then, they're rehearsing.

So we both went back there.

Now crisp and sharp. All of us.
Each player is a solo player.

Stop!

Low tones.

So we waited till they finished

because we didn't dare
we were just peeping in.

And then we approached him

and asked him if he was
interested, you know.

And when will you need me?

And we said:
On Wednesday, bandmaster.

- Wednesday doesn't suit me.
- Why? Why not?

We are playing at a funeral.

How about after the funeral?
How long can it take?

And he says:
It depends on who died.

If it's some former communist
then it takes a bit longer.

If it's a bourgeois
than we're done in a jiffy.

So we took him to the hotel
to show him what's it all about

and we let him read
a part of the script

where a father
is scolding his son.

And as he read it, it seemed
as if he'd written it himself.

I like zealous people.

Music is the most beautiful
thing in the world!

But not for you, apparently.

I won't push you on.

Pack your bags
and follow your own heart.

We don't need you here. No.

Go and don't look back.

Film Black Peter came out
in the same year as Audition.

It also shows the cooperation
of Forman, Passer and Papousek

who joined the two on the next
films until The Firemen's Ball.

Milos Forman was of course
the leading figure,

capable of motivating non-actors
and bring the best out of them.

The result is their spontaneous,
seemingly undirected performance

however, all those films
had been precisely prepared.

As a student Jaromil Jires
got famous for his film experiment

The Hall of Lost Steps.

He was one of the few who were
members of the Communist party.

It was no formal thing, he truly
believed in its mission

and I think he manifested this
conviction in his film The Cry

which actually follows the line
of The Hall of Lost Steps

by reflecting anxiety of what
had been happening in the world.

The Berlin crisis,
the Caribbean crisis.

I wish you were the pregnant one,
you could hide it under your suit.

See, I'm pregnant too now,
it's just that I won't tell anyone.

The film does have its beauty
and it condenses the film means.

A photography as a mean makes
The Cry even more a film.

The Askenazy's book itself contains
poetic reflections of those photos

and Jires developed this motive
even more in his film.

So we get to know a life
of a young couple expecting a child

and watch the man, a plumber
and the woman in a maternity ward.

Through their simple story we absorb
the atmosphere of that time.

I'll turn that Bach of yours on.

Ivana, you're scared again.

Come on.

Listen and stop worrying.

In one day when his wife
is to give a birth

the boy encounters different people

who represent specific attitudes
toward life, or life values

and the main question is
whether it makes any sense

to bring children into this world.

That's the basic Askenazyian
question of this film.

Kids, this is a bomb alert.

Let's go, now quietly
line up by the door

and we'll run down
into a bomb shelter.

As if we played a hide and seek
but you mustn't shout now.

We'll hide in a cellar and not even
the biggest bomb will find us there.

I like some of the films also

because they perfectly reflect Prague
in those times, as a locality.

I think that The Cry lets us guess
where the shooting took place

and it records those times
in a not very flattering way,

its ineptitude and ugliness.
But it was a part of life.

Barrandov professionals weren't
very fond of us, FAMU students.

But soon we learned the ropes
and started to help each other.

The set for The Cry
was built up in Perla.

I was an assistant director,

Ondricek was in charge of panning
for director of photography Kucera.

But in that time Forman bought
himself a camera for Audition

and Ondricek was his cameraman.

Our deal was they'd be shooting
Audition in Semafor theatre

and when we need
to do some panning at our set,

because Kucera hated panning,
he was more into static shots,

we'd come and get Ondricek.

So I ran as far as to Semafor:
Boys, stop shooting, Mirek, come.

And as we were running back

I'd explain him the scene
we was about to shoot.

We got to the fifth floor, he sat
on a chair and said:

"I know everything. Ready."

Hello? Listen, this is no
telephone exchange.

You never answered our calls.

It's a girl. 1,7 ft, 7,7 lbs.

Hello.

The Cry was pretty successful,

even the regime accepted it as
a film which expresses

a communist ideology and
a vital optimism

and it made Jires turn
to documentaries until 1968.

He made a feature film The Joke

where he moved his stylistics
to a higher level

and the social theme appeared
in an even edgier form.

When you open your eyes
for the very fist time

it seems as if you knew everything.
And then you start forgetting.

Don't wash the dishes.
And eat the strawberries.

Or wash the dishes.
And let the strawberries be.

We'll put them next to our bed
and pretend to be reading.

Joseph Kilian belongs to the second
line of films made in the 60's.

One line were verist films striving
for authenticity, documentary-like.

The second parallel line was based
on a stylized reality, on a parable.

Joseph Kilian belongs to this line,

followed by films like Daisies
or Fruit of Paradise.

Joseph Kilian is a unique parable

about the totality in the 60's
in our country.

Many call it a Kafkaesque film,
or a film with a Kafkaesque feel,

an atmosphere known
from Kafka's novels,

and it is very true, mainly thanks
to Schmidt's contribution.

The film is authoritative in
a sense of its message

about a man who got trapped.

Excuse me, I'm looking
for comrade Kilian.

- Who?
- Kilian.

You know any Kilian guy?

Why?

Do you know him?

I've just come to tell him
that somebody has died.

The wonderful thing is
that all the absurdities depicted,

they all come from the real life.

There is nothing you couldn't
actually experience in the 60's.

So the film is no abstract
Kafkaesque construct

but a real living substance.
And it makes the film alive.

Hello.

- Excuse me, could I rent a cat?
- What kind?

Well... Let's say that one.

Pavel would be late for shooting.

He'd find it hard
to get up before 9am.

So I'd start shooting with Curik

but we'd wait with the important
stuff for Juracek to arrive.

He could never express himself
as of what exactly he wants to do

and was clueless when it came
to size of shot, editing, etc.

His way of thinking
was very complicated

but as we got to the narrative
level, things got much easier.

Hello, excuse me, I'm looking
for a cat rental store.

A cat rental? Hang on, it rings
a bell... I'm not sure now...

- I'm new here and yesterday...
- Let me think, I'll tell you.

Jan Curik was
a director of photography

and we got quite enchanted
by long objectives

Karel Vasicek was wandering
through the streets with the cat

and we were shooting
the scene with hidden cameras

so all the reactions of the people
he met were real, no script.

We knew the question he'd ask
but not their answers

and we didn't know what
he could provoke them to.

- We're looking for a cat rental.
- Guys, is this a joke?

Willie Bukovy composed the score

but we didn't discuss too many
things with Pavel here.

He'd say: Now there will be kids,
soldiers and a funeral procession

and it will make us a story.
But it's not as easy as it seems.

Curik did a great job here
with the light on the street

but the sun was there for like
15 minutes and was gone.

I don't think it's right to speak
about Kafkesque influence,

the film expresses his inner
demons and tries to capture

the absurdity of that time and
the fading spirit of Stalinism.

That monstrous monument of Stalin
was standing over Prague in 1962

and its explosion is captured
at the end of this film.

Beginning of the 60's is still
shielded by the fading Stalinism

and this film expresses the stale
atmosphere of absurdity

and combines it with things
like folklore and similar stuff.

Who?

Kilian?

There is no one here.

It is quite interesting
how slowly and carefully

the modern times are getting
to some self-reflection.

Schorm's Courage for Every Day
was facing many obstacles

because even though the 60's
were considered liberal years

the power structures
had been already established.

He's some student who flunked out
and also a magician or something.

We don't need people like him.
But he has a bunch of followers.

A script to Courage for Every Day
was written by Antonin Masa,

Schorm's schoolmate but unlike
Schorm, Masa was a communist

and the film is about
a disillusion with communism.

Schorm came from a family
of an expropriated kulak

so his different view of the 50's
helped the film a great deal.

The story of a communist official
was enriched with a new dimension

of an existential contemplation
over how past influences presence

and how to view the past
from the present perspective.

- You've held many functions.
- Yes.

- Which ones exactly?
- Pretty much all functions.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

The theme of an inveterate
Communist who realizes

that the new-born consumer
society puts his ideals aside

was very attractive for all leftist
intellectuals in the Western Europe

and that's what made
this film famous.

But these intellectuals
did not accentuate the fact

that Schorm's honest Communist
becomes not only a tragic figure

but also a figure which
is ridiculous and comical

and it relates to the way
Schorm develops the whole story.

What is this, a show-off
or some cultural interlude?

Is it forbidden?

Well it's a friendship game.

- What game?
- A friendship game.

You don't know it?

You wanna give it a go?
A friendship game?

Evald Schorm was a student
of Otakar Vavra from whom

he learnt basic rules of directing

but he also brought in a very
special way of working with actors

and many remember him being
a demiurge who never directed,

he'd just say: You know the best
what to do, better than I do.

And the actors managed to fulfill
his visions intuitively.

Brejchova was a huge star,
a beautiful popular actress

when I, a nobody from Ostrava,
came to shooting in Teplice.

He said: "Honzik, do you know
Mrs Brejchova?" I said: "No."

So he introduced us and she looked
at me suspiciously and he went:

So let's get to your bed scene.

Honzik, you're naked and Janinka
too, everyone leaves the set now.

I'm staring at this sexy Brejchova

and I'm wearing these tiny shorts
so I jumped under a blanket,

Brejchova went to a bathroom

she soaped herself up to hide
her face, and action!

She jumped at me, started stroking
me with those soapy hands,

biting, scratching, for real!
I had no time to act shy.

It was to look for real and Evald
was absolutely excited.

I was totally confused and
unprepared but he didn't mind.

That's how he made me feel
to be a part of the whole project.

Who's got this started, huh?

It was one of few things
he told me about Courage.

That Jarda character should be
a stranger there. A kind of.

We even discussed the book
which fascinated me,

about a mother on a death bed

and him sitting next to her body
watching flies flying around her.

And he imagines people who will
never understand spitting on him.

This feeling of estrangement.

The Courage had contained a motif
from Kafka but they banned it.

A vulture pecking at my feet,
shoes and socks torn into pieces.

I wanted to read the script
with feeling, to draw the story

but he said: No, I don't want
to illustrate it in any way,

I just want you to feel desperate
just like back there, on the rock.

It was a long shooting and
I learnt a lot about acting there.

- What would you like?
- I don't know.

My door is always open for you.

- What did they want from you?
- To promote me.

You don't want to know more?

And there is the end when he gets
beaten to the pulp in a pub,

those guys were great stuntmen
who were pounding at me for real

but never hurt me.

He said: "Now you'll fall down
and crawl away and stuff."

We didn't rehearse much,
only discussed things.

So here I was, all beaten up

but self-confident as for my
acting skills, suffering perfectly

when I hear Evald saying:

Smile, Honzik, smile, it all has
gotten to him now, he knows

and he is laughing at it now,
it's all gone, it's all far away.

And I got stiff and did exactly
what he wanted me to do

and it's there, this moment.

So he could see more than just
the routine, he saw the reality.

Sure enough, the film was banned

and went into a distribution
two years after finishing

and in 1968, I think, it received
an award at Pilsen film festival.

It means that the film became
a symbol of something deeper,

a reason why we still watch it.

How long haven't we eaten?

No idea. I've stopped counting
I'll get something today.

You won't get anything.

Jan Nemec admired Vaclav Krska

but more than by film he was
influenced by literature,

namely Faulkner.

Thus the poetics of Diamonds,

his first film which followed
his school film The Loaf of Bread.

Both were based on novels
by Arnost Lustig.

He attempted to make use
of a stream of consciousness,

to build a reality from pieces
in an associative way

and the result often
resembled a surrealist vision.

The surrealism is very innovative
in the context of those years

because the story of prisoners
escaping from a transport

creates just a thin storyline,

the rest are visions, images
from the past and the future

which make you put the pieces
together and find the meaning.

It is about a behaviour
of a man in a fatal situation,

about expressing inner feelings
of a man who is facing death.

About ethical questions as of

whether a man in such a fatal
situation has the right to kill.

The film contains all this
not in a narrative sense

but emotionally, visually.

Nemec came to me when he was 22
looking like a baby boy

and said he loved my book
Diamonds of the Night.

That was my story. I was supposed
to kill that German woman

but I couldn't because of
the child standing next to her.

I imagined the fate of Jewish
girls so I wanted to hit her

but I didn't because I felt
sorry for the little orphan

and it was a mistake because
she reported against us

and that's how the old guys
got to catch us.

Diamonds of the Night
were a true story.

The film was based on a script
except five key scenes.

I didn't change the script

it just originally contained
this inner explaining voice

which wasn't necessary.

In the script the scene of
the hunt and the nosh-up

were merely noted down
as two-take scenes

but actually they became
two key scenes during the shooting

when I realized their potential
and made the most of them.

I think I did the right thing.

First there is a script
based on a literary piece

written in a way that can be
approved and financed.

Then, during the shooting
you must put the script aside

and shoot something independent

but when in the editing room
you have to go back to the roots

and add the new, enriching stuff

because I say that a film
is made in an editing room

where all the elements merge.

This film was put together
by editor Mila Hajek,

a key figure of our
cinematography in the 60's.

It was a total opposite to FAMU,
no discussions, talks, intentions.

He read the script, I told him
what it was about and he'd go:

Alright, let's get things done.

He'd do everything himself,
even the editing, worked late

and in the end Diamonds had
32 versions of its ending

and we'd quarrel over frames.

The finishing works
got also complicated

because he was very inventive
when working with a sound.

We'd put a microphone
into Prague passages

and recorded people talking there

and it gave the film
a special atmosphere.

I can't speak German.

You can call Prague police
office and check.

I made a deal with director
of photography Kucera

whom I considered my soul mate

because I knew the film
would have three levels:

A level of reality, a level
of memories, or flashbacks

and a level of dream, or fantasy.

I wanted to underline
the non-realistic part

so I made the deal with Kucera

who was a master of a poetic
vision, of an incommunicability.

And in the middle of the shooting
Mr Kucera comes to me and says

he's done with this film
and I had no clue what'd happened

and he said he was going
to a film festival in Acapulco

and that it would be a long trip
and he's to get some award there.

And he said he'd be
back in 3 weeks

but it had to be finished by then.

I was on a very friendly terms
with Mirek Ondricek back then

while with Kucera
it felt pretty distant

so I said I wanted Ondricek
to finish the shooting.

So Kucera left to Acapulco

and Ondricek shot
the second half of the film,

including the hunt scene
and the whole finale.

So I got to work with the two
best cameramen for a price of one,

Kucera was in charge of the dreamy
scenes, Ondricek did the realism

and it helped the film very much.

Logically, each one of the trio
Forman, Passer, Papousek

might also go his own way and
that's what eventually happened.

Forman stuck to his vision
of "a cruel theatre - the World",

in 1968 Papousek made his film
The Most Beautiful Age

and Ivan Passer made his film
Intimate Lighting in 1965

a lyrical, nostalgic impression,
a look back at lost illusions.

One day my phone rings
and it's Vaclav Sasek saying:

Listen I've written a treatment
and they don't want to buy it

because they tell me I need
to get someone who'd direct it.

I've offered it to several
directors to no avail.

Would you be so kind
and take a look at it?

So he gave it to me, I read it

and understood why
nobody wanted to film it.

Then I met Vaclav
and Jarda Papousek

and we agreed on one scene-
it was something with fishing-

when he recognizes
his schoolmate from art school

and they talk for a while.

So we decided to make the whole
film out of this single scene.

- I guess you'd prefer a leg.
- I want a leg!

No talking during the meal.

Kaya, Grandpa also didn't get
a leg and he doesn't complain.

Do you, Grandpa?

Leave it, no need for him
to get everything he wants.

Well, he likes it.
Here, have a leg.

Kaya, what are you doing?
Give it back to auntie, now!

Let him have both,
I can share with Peter, right?

Of course.

No way, none of you would have
enough to eat. Here, have mine.

Leave it! Leave it!

Here, have mine.

No, you shouldn't, really,
we can share.

- How can you share a leg?
- We'll manage somehow.

Here, this is easy to share.

Intimate Lighting consists
of what we actually experienced.

For example I lived in a village
by a road which led to a cemetery

and five times a week I watched
a funeral procession passing by.

I was always impressed by two
trumpet players up on a hill

who were corresponding with
the band playing by an open grave

and boys loved this image
so sure enough we used it.

The same way we used
Jarda's experience and so on.

One night Ivan said that each of
us will put in something silly

and the other two must agree.

But I can't remember
who put what in back then.

The authorities couldn't stand
Ivan to make Intimate Lighting

and it got even worse when
they learnt I was involved too.

Barrandov general manager
Harnach said:

If cameramen approve
I'll let him do it.

So we were invited to a meeting
of cameramen in the Film Club

and they were voting.

I'm not sure but I think
everybody voted against me.

And Strecha came and said:

Guys, do what you want to do,
I care about nothing but a fee.

His attitude was fantastic.

12, 13, 14...

- Wait!
- Don't give me your wait.

I said wait!

That's one hell of an exercise.

It was such a dilemma to decide
whether I should cast actors

or musicians
who would actually play.

I reckoned it would be easier
with non-actors

who can play the instruments.

- Grandpa!
- What Grandpa!

Did you see these knuckles?

What about the knuckles?

- A lumberjack could play this.
- Yeah right, a lumberjack.

I've worked much harder
than any lumberjack here!

I remember when I spotted him

I reached out my hand and
stopped him and it was Bambas.

Petora, don't call me Bambas!

I asked him if he wanted to act
in this film. And he said no.

So I met him a few times,
I gave him the script. To read

and he said: This is about me.

- Care for some gooseberries?
- I'd love to.

During the shooting
he was always on the set,

even if it wasn't his scene.

I like to cast people

who make me wonder
what secrets they hide.

There should be some more.

I remember thinking:

Maybe one day I'll have time
to sit and talk with him.

And when I was editing
the film, he died.

He had leucemia and nobody
knew about it. Just him.

- Dadddy! Daddy!
- Come here, son.

- And you won't greet me?
- Dad, Kaya's peed into a tub!

After the first screening of
Intimate Lighting in the Film Club

I was approached by
Vladimir Valenta and he said:

This is the best of Forman.

That sentence got stuck in my mind.

Cheers to that!

Pinda, man, where are you going?
Get off that thing!

Hi guys!

From the early 60's
until the end of the 60'

director Kachyna and writer Jan
Prochazka worked in a tandem.

At first they focused on films
about young people, teenagers

and from the mid-sixties
they started a brand new line

of films about taboo topics
from the Czech history,

like Long Live the Republic,
Carriage to Vienna and The Ear,

which ended up in the vault.

The films by Kachyna and Prochazka

Long Live the Republic,
Carriage to Vienna, The Ear,

or The Nun's Night brought up
very interesting topics.

In Long Live the Republic
they tricked us into observing

events from the Second World War
from a new point of view

but the newness of the view
was given by the observer, a child.

Suddenly they could openly say

that Moravian peasants were just
utilitarian egocentrics,

not partisans, and that not all
Germans were murderers...

Honza! Honza, where are you?

Mum...

Kachyna uses something we saw
in Nemec's or Jires's films,

an illogical editing by means
of sudden associations

which can bring out emotions
as they develop in a mind

of a child who imagines
what could happen to him.

This adds a brand new
emotional poetics to this film

and it's a shame this film
got somehow lost

among others made
by Prochazka and Kachyna.

It was made by two production
companies, the Army Film

which was a huge coproducer,

thanks to them we could use nine
planes, air-fighters, tanks.

And the other, civilian
co-producer was Barrandov

and Kachyna made the most
of what they could give us.

- Come on, you swine. You hear me?
- On your knees, bastard.

- Can't you say please?
- Just you wait!

- You rascal. Shame on you!
- Look at him!

As for Prochazka's career,
he was not only a film writer

but also a candidate
of the communist politburo

and a personal friend
of president Antonin Novotny.

As the head of one of Barrandov
production groups he and Fikar

opened a space for the new
generation of young filmmakers

This activity resulted in a quick
end of his professional career

after the events in August 1968.

He literally died of the hunt
that was launched for him,

however in the 70's and even
in the 90's his scripts were filmed

but in the 70's they had to be
signed by somebody else.

The screening of Long Live the
Republic at a festival in Moscow

in the 60's caused an outrage

because of the way it depicted
Soviet liberators in 1945.

As a result this film was later
removed from a distribution list

and ended up in the vault
for the next 20 years.

Shut up, you drunkards, look here!
Here at the monument of peace.

It's beautiful, huge and it's ours.
Like a holy portrait with a halo.

Kadar and Klos created
a unique tandem of directors.

Their new era began in 1963
with Death Is Called Engelchen,

followed by Accused and in 1965
they made The Shop on Main Street

based on a novel
by Ladislav Grosman

which gained a huge publicity
and got to be presented abroad.

Their cooperation actually
reached its peak with this film.

You and your joinery antichrist,
you premature maggot...

Had you joined the Guard
I could have become something!

Leave me alone. I was accused of
being a buck-passer because of you.

You Ali Baba. Screw your garden!
And your farm.

Another song is in today,
you joinery Jesus.

Just look what kind of
a brother-in-law you have.

Here! Here! It's time for you
to realize who Kolkovski is.

It was the first Kadar's film
about the Second World War.

Shortly after his immigration

he got involved with
historic topics even more.

This was the first film in which
he touched his own experience.

He spent four years in a labor
camp in Hungary, his parents

and his sister with children
ended up in a concentration camp.

So this was the first time
he decided to talk about it.

There Kadar proved that he was not
just an excellent filmmaker

but also an exceptional human
because of how he depicted those

who had always been considered
guilty monsters, aryanizers.

He made this aryanizer
his main character

who is difficult to be judged
as a swine who did nasty things.

I thought I'd lost it.

Could you excuse me, young man,
I find it hard to read

Really? Well, I've been appointed
an aryanizer of your business.

- Excuse me?
- Of your business.

Oh, the buttons!

The whole tragicomedy is
actually more comic than tragic.

The tragedy lies in the almost
unsaid background

of the Slovak state
and deportation of Jews

while the first plan is actually
comic, uneasy and deeply human.

The character of Tono Brtko thinks

that finally he'll satisfy his wife
and bring her home some money

but he fails because the Jewish
shop makes no money at all.

Here. You think the better Jewish
shops weren't taken by the nobs?

You've been tricked, mate.

Kolkotsky threw you a bone,
a dry, gnawed bone.

The aryanizer is paid by Jewish
community to be there,

to be kind to Mrs Lautmann.

The inhumanity of the regime
does not get to show in the fact

that it made Tono Brtko
an aryanizer but in the way

it frames the whole absurd story.

Mr Brtko, I wanted to tell you
about our good will to oblige you.

We understand your position
is also not very enviable...

Mr Brtko is a very nice man,

he understands the financial
difficulties our commune is in.

We voted through your support,
or let's say a regular income.

Trust us, we trust you.

Once I went to the editorial
office in Maiselova street

and on the stairs I passed
a man and a woman.

The lady said: I'm waiting for you,
my name is Ida Kaminska,

I am director of The Jewish Theatre
in Warsaw and need a film role.

So I went to Kadar and told him:

Listen, do you have a film role
for a Jewish actress from Warsaw?

And he said: I'm looking for
an actress who doesn't speak Slovak

but still is comprehensible.

You won't be persecuted just
for being Jewish. A law is a law.

A law. What can we do, it's a law.

- A philanthropic law.
- But I still don't understand.

At the first rehearsal she started
playing a heroine as always.

And Kadar said: You're
no heroine here, remember,

you're an old senile Jewish lady
in the Eastern Slovakia.

She had to speak the Eastern-
Slovakian dialect, not Polish.

I myself come from that region

so every morning I practiced
with Mrs Kaminska

teaching her to speak Polish-
Jewish-Eastern-Slovakian.

For God's sake, Mrs Lautmann,
Kolkotsky is coming. Hide yourself.

- We've got to close the shop.
- Forget about the shop.

I knew he would come. Go hide
yourself, for God's sake. Go away!

Let go! You are crazy!

The Shop on Main Street eventually
received an Academy Award,

it was a huge success not only
for the film and its makers

but it had an impact
on our cinematography

because the whole world turned
to the Czechoslovakian films

and our filmmakers had a good
reason to demand more space

for their creativity.

Directors Jan Kadar and Elmar Klos

brought home one of the world's
most important film awards,

a golden statuette of Oscar,
for The Shop on Main Street.

The golden Oscar has been resting
the whole way back from the USA

wrapped in Kadar's pajamas.

Otakar Vavra was a teacher of
some of the New Wave directors

like Jiri Menzel, Vera Chytilova,
Evald Schorm, Jan Schmidt.

Vavra himself was an autodidact

and still he managed to teach
the next generation the skills

and at the same time
to absorb their innovations.

We can see it in the way

his films based on Hrubin's work
were developing.

August Sunday is quite simple,
it has no emotional impact.

Then suddenly in Golden Queen

we watch a story of a 50-year-old
man who experienced the 50's.

Vavra's personal topic made
the film truly impressive.

It again presents an ambivalent
view of the main character.

And then comes Romance for Bugle,
Vavra's top film of the 60's.

And you call yourself a man?

- Heading for some grass, Tonka?
- For nettles.

Stop fooling around.

Home, we've got to go home.

Romance for Bugle is originally
a disintegrated poem

and we connected the pieces
into the most successful story.

We'll go to America.
We'll go to Minjapur.

We're waiting only for you.

You're quite late today.
Shall I give you a lift?

Why not.

I hold this film in high regard
because there are awesome things.

The grandpa who speaks to dead
people came about thanks to Barla,

a young cameraman who did things
which no professional dared to do.

It was him who made the shots
of the man blending with nature

and the buzzing of dragonflies.

No other cameraman would
have done something like that.

I even had some of the props
brought out onto locations

so we could light them properly.

I've saved some money but I've
got it at home, on my bank book.

I can wait.

I spread out a polythene sheet
to create some indirect light

and I couldn't do this on location
because the Sun keeps moving.

Get up, I'll help you into a coat.

It's nice of you.
I give as good as I get.

We were shooting the bathing scene
on October 5 because in summer

the Sazava river was dried out
so we had to wait for some water.

We even considered going to
Yugoslavia, or somewhere far away.

The film was complete except
one scene of summer bathing.

And it was October. It rained,
the water level raised

and so we shot the scene.

Mr Vavra responsibly
arranged real carnies

and discussed every single
detail with those people.

Back then carousels would be
sent spinning by children

and as a reward kids could get
a ride for free or a candy or so.

In another scene Kvietik
casts shotgun shells.

We are not aware of these things
anymore, we go and buy the shells

but he'd make them
with his own hands.

Give me another gun.

He gave me the script
and discussed it with me.

And when it came to casting
actors, he gave me carte blanche.

I came to Bratislava to cast
Zuzana Ciganova.

But I'd actually found the people
I dragged there in a circus.

I found the grinder-guy in Cheb,
the father of Zuzka's character.

And he just accepted those people
as well as me and it was nice.

I'm sick of waiting. On the next
stop there'll be a priest.

She won't run away. The authorities
must fake her official age anyway.

Do it when the winter's over
and there's less work here.

Don't worry, I'll arrange it.

I've told you she'll be yours.

I was totally authoritative

because while writing the script
I visualized the result.

Directing meant fitting the
resisting reality into that image

which I had created in my mind.

That's what directing was about.
Fitting things into my image.

Raping them. So I had to
be authoritative.

Terina, Terka! Terka!

Vera Chytilova smartly perceived

questions of public
and personal morality

on which she based all her films,
from Ceiling to A Bagful of Fleas.

All these films explore personal
as well as public morality.

Daisies is one of them

although this film bewitches us
with its experimental motion,

and the interplay between Kucera's
camera and Krumbachova's art design

- I'm no good in this either.
- What are we good at then?

We're no good.

- What are you doing?
- A virgin.

Don't I look like a virgin?
I am a virgin.

I was eager to go
for any experiments.

With my latter husband Kucera

we started to write a script
for a film Daisies

and we searched for a topic

which would allow us to make
the most of film language.

We knew a film should express
what no other language can.

Film was put aside

and it was all about some
photographed theatre

and we wanted to act upon
a viewer more artistically.

You should have been here
yesterday, girls, it was fun.

Oh well, one can't be
on two places at the same time.

We're just always so busy.

So, what do you say?

Then we met Ester Krumbachova
who had her dreams and ideas.

We were just three strangers
who got along great at work.

We enjoyed giving space
to each other with no limits

and making sure things were
clear for ordinary people.

Who will pay for that?

Carcass - fartass.

Originally I wanted to capture
a lifestyle of school girls

who want to have fun but they
don't know how so they're bored

who look good
and have a sense of humour

and they're reaching out
to touch their existence

being destroyed by some values.

Kucera was a natural-born
artist, trying things at home,

I saw him projecting pictures
of plants on a face of a statue

or he'd make collages, cutting
things out of newspapers,

gluing them together and stuff.

I thought: It's a shame,
this Art for art's sake,

this destruction should be
expressed and underlined

to make sense of the language.

We stressed the confrontation

of something aesthetic and nice
and a destruction it brings

which doesn't work
without a spirit.

We're burning!

One thing can be positive
and negative at the same time.

It depends on a viewpoint.

There's always birth in the
beginning and death in the end.

What happens inbetween?
Just fun or something more?

What is it about
if it's all about nothing?

In the USA, in Lincoln Centre,

it was the first Week of the
Czechoslovakian Cinematography

and I met Andy Warhol,
we went to The Factory

and they were amazed to see
that Daisies had an actual script.

That the dialogues had been
actually written down.

- Do you have snails? - No, but-
- Not to mention hares, right?

- They have venison, miss.
- No, that's too big.

I'm hungry for something small.

Bring me the chicken then.
Is it big enough?

I don't care about some
confused improvisation

which doesn't make any sense.

You have to concentrate
on what you want to present.

It's a must,
to tell not just a story

but a meaningful story.

Freedom is the most important
part of the process,

things are changing, developing
and I am changing too.

Sometimes no ideas come up.

Then I go and check my script,
but it's the last thing I do.

Julie! Now I know what love is.

I don't want this moment to end.

Don't be so mean to me.

You make my life a misery.

It is quite remarkable

that this film which
bewitches you with its form

became a subject of
a parliament interpellation

when MP Pruzinec called it a waste
meaning even a waste of food.

Of course it was a nonsense
cinematographically

but sure enough it aggravated
the whole political suite.

Behind its playful fa�ade
it poses very serious questions,

it is a parable about whether
we can ever reconstruct reality

which we ourselves destroyed.

Perhaps it was the message
of those final scenes

that made Communists so angry.

But we actually are happy.

But that's ok.

Milos Hrma reports
to the station master.

Welcome, Milos. At ease.

Your dad was the best
engine driver in our region.

Once he threw a stoker
out of a moving train.

Menzel's film debut was
a story in Pearls of the Deep,

other stories were filmed
by some of the New Wave directors

like Jan Nemec, Vera Chytilova,
Evald Schorm, Jaromil Jires.

Hrabal probably attracted
this generation by his skewness

with the whole culture.

Hrabal actually represented
underground of the 50's

and his authenticity and variety
of topics were very inspiring.

His short novel Closely Watched
Trains was Menzel's destiny.

After The Shop on Main Street

this was internationally the most
successful Czechoslovakian film.

Mr Novak, I did think
you'd actually make it, you know?

I'd read an excerpt of Trains
in a newspaper,

the part when Zdenicka Svata
describes what Mr Hubicka

had been doing to her.

I remember being turned on
as I was reading this part.

It was so beautifully erotic
I immediately knew I'd do it.

This book lacks
a straight storyline.

Hrabal somehow cut the story
into pieces and mixed them,

more or less intuitively.

There's not much logic
in those flashbacks.

I knew the story was obvious
if told chronologically.

I knew from Vavra that a story
must be dismantled

and put together again
in a different composition.

Because a drama composition
is different than an epic one.

So I was searching for
the dramatic tone

and the dismantling
worked beautifully.

Eventually there were two lines
going against each other.

Investigation of Zdenicka and
arrival of train with ammunition.

The successful intersection
was actually inadvertent.

For the leading role
I wanted Pucholt.

He was already doing another
film with Krejcik and refused.

He was a dutiful person but
I wanted him as a famous name.

But Pucholt lacked the inner
pain which Vaclav had.

He was perfect as a sufferer.

For the role of Zdenicka
I wanted Janzurova.

But she was too shy.

She's a great actress but
Zdenicka was more innocent.

I loved Hrusinsky and I wanted
him to play dispatcher Hubicka

but he was engaged in Weiss's
film so I went to my friend,

Josef Somr who'd played
only a minor role in Accused

and he was just awesome.
I was so lucky to find him.

Let me tell you a funny story
with the role of station master

who was played by scriptwriter
Vladimir Valenta, a non-actor.

He looked like father of my
schoolmate, a chubby fellow,

a Philippe Noiret type.

Valenta was visually perfect
though he'd never acted before.

Luck brought me to another
person I've always loved,

Vlastimil Brodsky.

I knew I had to cast someone
nice to the only negative part

because traitors never
look like traitors.

Doctor Brabec says I suffer
from ejaculatio praecox.

Come on, Milos.

See? Right now I am a man.

And then the tonality of picture,

I'd practiced it in Kachyna's
Long Live the Republic so I knew

that lighting the small station
can be done very realistically

by imitating those railroad lamps

and green shades which create
sharp shadows on the walls.

These things helped me
support the atmosphere,

now I was able to shoot
a moving night train

sending sparkles out
of its engine funnel,

or to imitate a small oil lamp
during the erotic scene.

I've known it all my life.

I tend to avoid
unpleasant things,

fortunately or unfortunately.

But I knew letting Milos die
on screen would ruin the film.

It would disrupt the sense
of tragedy and ridicule,

the sadness would prevail
and it would ruin catharsis.

I decided not to show
Milos's death

only a cloud of smoke.

What made Americans like
Closely Watched Trains?

I also wonder what it was.
It is made for Czech audience.

But I'm glad they liked it.

And I'd love this film to bring
Mr Hrabal closer to them

because he deserves to be
universally acknowledged.

We didn't get to know about it
here, Kadar received the award.

Sure it was good that Czech
film was acknowledged abroad,

in France and Germany,
later it went even to the USA.

The film is good but so are
many others.

It was just lucky enough
to have been bought by Italians

who sold it to America.

But the Oscar came about
by a pure chance as well.

But then the tanks arrived

and our older colleagues
gave us all hell.

Thanks to Oscar I was the first
to be banned from film making.