Havel

Anyone expecting a comprehensive portrait of Václav Havel in 105 minutes is bound to be disappointed, because this is not that kind of film. Indeed, this is above all somewhat of a whimsical affair, deliberately leaving most of the characters anonymous and offering them to the viewer as some sort of personification of the various opinions and characters of the time. It doesn't even let Havel make a single speech or formulate a proper thought, it doesn't give any space to any of his plays, and it still shows him mainly as an ordinary man who is looking for the right attitude in life and at the same time trying to live that life (by the way, I suspect that his name is not even mentioned throughout the film). The film shows how Havel changed, and why he decided to become president, in a mere three scenes with Dubček. The counterbalance to the silent Havel in Viktor Dvořák's wonderful performance is of course the raging force of nature of Martin Hofmann's Landovský, Aňa Geislerová delighted me with how un-Geislerian she was, and director Slávek Horák again had a lot of ideas that worked – playful metaphors, for some too literal, the suffocating prison atmosphere and yet a humorous lightness in the right places... this is no monument to Havel, but the film nevertheless revives his legacy with style and dignity. (23.08.2020)

After last year's Amnesty, we get the solo biography of Havel, tracing the period from the late 1960s to the mid-1980s with a short epilogue in 1989. Personally, I can't say that I adored Slávek Horák's previous film, but Havel is playful, very human, and with an artful dose of artistic license. It is literal in the emotions of one man's fate that defined his personal attitude toward morality. Viktor Dvořák already practiced his Havel at the Rokoko theater in the play "Čapek" and in the film The Prague Orgy, and now he has fine-tuned it to perfection. Adrian Jastraban, for a change, already knows his Dubček from his solo Slovak film Dubček and here he just continues to play it safe. Olga Havlová, played by Aňa Geislerová, is a brand new addition, as she has been proving regularly in recent years that she has matured to a great level and that she is able to play the great personalities of Czech history without hesitation (I am already looking forward to her Němcová). The big surprise is Martin Hofmann as Lanďák (he has those tacky mannerisms that almost got him eliminated as an actor after Most!). Weak to routine performances include Kohoutová played by Seidlová, Kohout played by Majer, and Patočka's Barťák. I'm glad that time has moved on and that this biography is now the subject of its own film. I would consider having a film about his entire life even better, but in an era when even one key event in the entire life of the person under scrutiny is considered a biography, Horák's film is pretty much ideal. (24.07.2020)

Arrival. With humility, indecision, and fear in front of a blank A4 sheet. A clash of banality and inner depth, even at the metaphorical level, where, except for the ending, one can detect emotional missteps on the theme of human weakness and courage. The royal reggae of Viktor Dvoř��k and Martin Hofmann's necrotizing element named Landovský is, within the limits, precise. The last few minutes and the shots during the credits served as a cruel reminder of the present, where the two highest-ranking officials do not seek strength in morality but rather a bottom. (06.09.2021)

I'm not a political person and I know only the most familiar things about the first Czech president, so I approached Havel with a very clean slate and with a certain expectation, which was aroused especially by the cast and the eerily authentic resemblance between Václav Havel and Viktor Dvořák. I'm aware that the person of Havel has many supporters as well as detractors, and if this biopic is even half based on truth, I find Havel as a person both morally strong and weak. I was a bit puzzled by the initial brevity of the film and (for the uninitiated like me) by the certain anonymity of the characters - I didn't immediately associate Patočka and Landovský with Havel, even though Martin Hofmann is very similar to Landovský. I liked the theatrical metaphors like "the world and life is one big and endless drama" on the one hand, but at the same time I was bothered by their (understandable) theatricality. As far as the performances go, I was generally satisfied: it was clear that Dvořák had put a lot of effort into his role, and he was convincingly seconded by Anna Geislerová (Olga) and Martin Hofmann, who provided several humorous scenes. Despite the great cast and solid topic, however, the film lacked any of the stronger scenes that would have explicitly grounded me, perhaps only the final preparation for the speech came closest. Last but not least, I must mention the decent music and camera work. (24.07.2020)

Viktor Dvořák was unlikable to me in the First Republic, but it was probably the character he portrayed that constantly annoyed me. In Havlovi, a completely different actor excels. And it must be emphasized that with longer hair and a beard, it is Václav Havel. The resemblance is unbelievable. His performance deserves recognition and praise, and it will be interesting to watch his battle with Ivan Trojan. But I also really liked Martin Hofmann and Aňa Geislerová, who supported Dvořák excellently. On the other hand, it seems to me that Bára Seidlová got lost, her character did not stand out at all, is a more striking cut needed? It probably doesn't make much sense to comment on the story, why did the creators choose that particular period of Havel's life, that is their sacred right. No situations or scenes surprised, shocked, or outraged me in any way. If I have to purely evaluate the impressions from two movies of one director, then Domácí péče emotionally touched me much, much more. (09.01.2021)