My mother was a music lover and she recently saw a splendid
performance of Mahler’s 5th Symphony at the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic
which we discussed at length. The composer was controversial in his time for
his practice of mixing musical styles, often running them against each other as
in the First Symphony, when a childhood memory had him counterpoint a funeral
march with a marching band. It was this careful conflict of sound which made
him revolutionary and, due to his diligence and control, he made it work.
Who knows, in years to come I might come to regret objecting to being
pulled in two directions by this light romantic drama and Tomáš Vtípil’s mix of
glitchy-electronica which might more typically be found late night in Café Oto
or the Village Underground rather than Barbican Cinema 1? But right now I really doubt it...
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| Jon Snow returns to the north... or, Karel Lamač |
This was the UK premier for the Czech Film Archive’s splendid
restoration of Karel Lamač’s film which was featured the so-called Der starke Vierer (The Strong Four) a creative team made up of himself as director,
script writer and lead actor, cameraman Otto Heller, actress Anny Ondra and
screenwriter Václav Wasserman. They succeeded in making a visually satisfying
film which balances drama with scenic splendour: top-notch visuals with nuanced
performances that wouldn’t have been out of place in Hollywood or UFA.
Anny plays Nina Mirel, an orphan forced to work like
Cinders by a cruel innkeeper, Jakub Rezek (Vladimír Majer), she does
her best in the manner of a Marion Davies/Mary Pickford and has her dreams of escape to good fortune. She
builds a crystal castle out of beer mugs in tribute to a life unlikely but her palace
comes crashing down and Rezek chases her out in a rage until she slips unnoticed
into a cellar.
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| Anna Sophie Ondráková or Anny Ondra to most of us |
Meanwhile, escaped convict, Ivan Holar (Lamač), is
on his way to deliver a life-extending medicine to his poorly mother… he is
spotted by two policemen and only just manages to evade their guns by,
surprise, slipping down into the same subterranean refuge as Nina. There’s an
instant spark – there always is… and Ivan entrusts Nina to deliver the crucial concoction
to his poorly mother (Saša Dobrovolná).
There’s a neat touch when the police shoot and smash the
bottle of medicine but all is not lost as the cold has frozen it. More danger
is on its way though as the police mistake Nina for Ivan – she’s wearing his
coat – but she manages to reach the humble Holar household just in time. Ivan
follows on and the couple enjoy brief respite as mother is restored, happy in
her ignorance of her son’s crime even after the police arrive. Ivan is
re-arrested but the kind-hearted cops make sure his mother doesn’t know.
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| The director squeezes in a profile shot... |
Meanwhile Nina meets an itinerant puppeteer called Tatík
Tomáš (Josef Rovenský), who rescues her only to return her to the inn of un-happiness
where all kinds of pennies drop in relation to the true ownership and the
wrongs of revolting Rezek…
Lamač handles this complex plot with a lightness of touch
and he was to go on to direct over 100 films across Europe and in the UK where
he shot newsreels with the RAF during the Second World War. White Paradise is an entertaining
adventure and Anny Ondra is as eye-catching as always with her director fully
aware of the need to squeeze in as many close-ups as possible against the snowy
backdrops.
As the film was playing there was much action left of
screen as Tomáš Vtípil worked a mix of electronica, effects, piano, recorder
and violin. The music was largely improvised – he was commissioned for the film’s
restoration premier and tries to make each performance different. For me, and
for several others, the score was just too disruptive in parts and overbearing
in others. Regardless of the
instrumentation, the musical ideas need to support the narrative and if they do
work against the action on screen, they need Mahler-esque control not to derail
the audience’s emotional sympathies. As the film glided effortlessly towards its
satisfying denouement, the music lumbered, beeped and throbbed us miles away
from snowy mountains and deep into Hoxton subterranean. I think there was
plenty of musicality in the multi-layered mix but it needed to be simpler and
more subservient to the partnership on screen.
It was all too loud and I did observe one woman stuffing tissues
into her ears; then again, I’m married to her and that’s not too unusual.
It’s a fantastic film and definitely one to catch if you
like top-notch European silent cinema but there needs to be more of a balance
between sound and vision: Tomáš Vtípil’s music is without doubt skilled and
interesting but this was a combination that didn’t show it in the best light.
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