NinadeL

(I’ve seen it a zillion times, also in the movie theater). Some people smile with happiness at Casablanca, others like to have a drink now and then at the 3rd World Festival of Youth and Students in 1951, which was attended by some 26,000 delegates from a total of 104 countries. Long live the students of Ethnography and their loved ones! Rozárka, I hope you will invite me to the wedding too. :D "We want peace!" "So do we!" After the 12th rerun, I have once again delved so deeply into the secrets of this film in which nothing happens that I feel blissful. Alena loves An Son-Chi and Pavel loves Alena, but the most possibilities are provided by his union with Mirek (he is a reliable boy, he thinks in terms of five-year plans). Lojza wants Rozárka, but she succumbs to the gossip of the villain Rudy, who is jealous of his unfaithful Ota. Ota is worried about Jan and Hanka is acting like a star, which is a bourgeois throw-back. And what did Věra have to say about it? Isn't she the main obstacle to Ota's love for Hanka and Rozárka's love for Lojza? Which is closer to Korea, Moscow or Prague? Were the creators of Crocodile Dundee inspired by this film? Or is finding love in a crowd just a classic metaphor? It's a good thing that the films belong to the people and that future generations won't be deprived of anything because I simply couldn't bear to see such injustice.

Jára Kohout's symbolic return to Czech cinema in the first year after the end of the Beneš measures in cinema was followed by his last role for a change in the second year after signing. Haha, we got what we wanted. Raise your keys up and kiss Czech cinema bye-bye. Hey!

Why is this film a patchwork of so many separate stories connected by so many awkward transitions operating on a soap opera basis? Because individually, each of them is so feeble that they wouldn't even take it on Hallmark.

It's good, but it pales in comparison to Whom the Gods Love or the birth of Viennese opera through the eyes of one demanding night. It's important to remember that this is an adaptation of a play, not a serious biography. Peter Shaffer (and ultimately Miloš Forman) preferred a dramatic arc over anything else. It's still a great experience even after years, though the impact on the Mozart renaissance is somewhat debatable.

As a child, I was enchanted by this. Today, however, I don't think it's perfect. Pamela Lyndon Travers wrote her books about Mary from 1934 until the incredible year 1988, a full 54 years.

Halfway through the film, I thought the nurses were regular whores. Or Ben Affleck and Josh Hartnett on a journey to lose their virginity in which the events of December 7, 1941, are just superfluous filler.

I'd love to see this again to see if I can appreciate, as I did then, the incomprehensible atmosphere where I understood perhaps only one thing - the controversy of reading "Dangerous Liaisons" before a wedding. :)

This fairy-tale-like historical drama in a completely different spirit follows the exceptional trips of Czech cinema to the Middle Ages. The first time it was in a nationalized film (prepared during the war) was in Rozina, the Love Child, in 1946 in The Adventurous Bachelor, and now Warriors of Faith and Alena. Miluše Zoubková actually starred in both films. However, I never particularly enjoyed the story with the rugged Vejražka and the bland main protagonist, whose performance and charm were outdone by the main assets of the project, i.e., the set and costumes by architect Štěpán Kopecký and designer Josef Matěj Gottlieb.

Could it have been Karel who showed Linkers the way to Prague? Anything is possible. What is certain, however, is that winter comedies with circus acts were Lamač's forte, and, as expected, I am thus satisfied with another part of the mosaic of his directorial work domestically and abroad.

Alfréd Radok's Distant Journey is a unique film. I only ever watch it on the big screen and it is regularly accompanied by various commentaries and it is fully respected. However, I personally don't love the combinatorics of serial documentary footage and Triumph of the Will (1935), which is much more specific in its images and it is not very appropriate to handle Leni Riefenstahl's work, which has its own story. I'm also not too keen on the pairing of scenes told in film and theater language in regular contrasts. I am also regularly amazed at the union of Blanka Waleská and Otomar Krejči. I really would have appreciated the suppression of the cheaply-caricatured characters of Kreuzmann, Svoboda, the gossipy Balek-Brodská, Vojtová, and Májová, as well the then-teenagers Kopecký and Effa. On the other hand, I fully respect certain performances, particularly of Zdeňka Baldová, Eduard Kohout, and Jiří Plachý. I also appreciate the realism of the Terezín scenes, but the artificial elements, such as the hanging piano and the spiral staircase, are a significant shadow on the film. I found most impressive the preparation for the visit by the Red Cross to the sounds of the rehearsal of the Brundibár children's opera. Was it really necessary to waste so much on formal stylization, to mix narrative film with documentary, film with theater, and to punctuate raw reality with props? The Holocaust is the most tragic event in human history, so a merely raw interpretation without ribbons on the sides would have been much better.