Let Him Face the Music!

The forced optimism from the period of normalisation imbued with a variation on Hollywood backstage musicals works well – with the exception of the idiotic acting performance of Luděk Sobota (who is to blame for the failure of the romantic subplot) – and is unexpectedly tolerable. This is thanks particularly to the screenplay, which doesn’t endlessly use variations on a single idea (and thus the film isn’t a series of sloppily strung-together music videos) and the skilful directing of Ladislav Rychman, who had a feel for rhythm (if there is such a thing). Even the “action” scenes (the house on fire) are well arranged and believable while having an appropriately brisk pace, which was not common in Czech comedies of the period. Interpreting this film is a matter of skating on thin ice, but we can understand its premise as a metaphor for the conditions in which artists were forced to create under totalitarianism, i.e. in fear. But the characters who represent a threat to the altruistic image of the communist regime are two capitalist-minded entrepreneurs for whom the finished work has greater value than human health and wellbeing. 55% (27/09/2013)

A brisk revue built on nonsense, comparable to Smoljak/Svěrák films. Today it is mainly a memory of the joint energy of the comedians Šimek, Sobota, Nárožný, and Krampol. There have been many television programs and theater or audio recordings of this, but only one major film. (24/02/2009)

I love the Semafor era of Miloslav Šimek, Luděk Sobota and Petr Nárožný... I really love it. I'm not gonna love this movie, though. It is very obvious that neither Šimek nor Sobota (Nárožný did not contribute much to the theatre) worked on the script and could not imprint it with the right individual cheekiness. And sadly, that is how it turned out. The humor is occasionally there but it’s weak, and the best of it comes at the end with the burning house, when Helena Vondráčková disappears from the picture, Sobota calmly pilots the final melody and Šimek and Nárožný run through the flames with a torn eaves pipe. These are very theatrical and moments that are very much “theirs". If I were to highlight anything else, then perhaps only the playful lyrics of the second song, which was certainly written by Jan Vodňanský ("Nemluvte za jízdy s řidičem, o ničem, o ničem, o ničem..."), and the dialogue between director Soukup and his wife observing composer Brabec: "What's he doing?" - "He's sitting and staring." - "Maybe he's thinking." - "That expression doesn't make it seem that way." (31/12/2014)