Návrat idiota
Réalisation:
Saša GedeonScénario:
Saša GedeonPhotographie:
Štěpán KučeraMusique:
Vladimír GodárActeurs·trices:
Pavel Liška, Tatiana Dyková, Aňa Geislerová, Jiří Langmajer, Jiří Macháček, Zdena Hadrbolcová, Jitka Smutná, Pavel Marek, Anna Polívková (plus)Résumés(1)
Frantisek ne connait rien de la vie : il a passé toute son existence derrière les murs d’un asile psychiatrique. En conséquence tout ce qu’il voit et entend est pour lui une première expérience. Il retourne voir des membres de sa famille qui semblent tout ignorer de sa vie et sont trop absorbés par leurs conflits personnels pour lui accorder leurs pensées. Malgré tout Frantisek devient l’observateur privilégié d’un quadrille amoureux : Olga est éprise d’Emil qui est incapable de choisir entre deux femmes. Sa rivale, Anna,qui n’est autre que sa propre soeur a une liaison avec Robert, le frère d’Emil. Tour à tour confident, témoin et souffre douleur, L’Idiot aime tout le monde et comprend mieux les gens qu’ils ne se comprennent eux-mêmes. (ASC Distribution)
(plus)Vidéo (3)
Critiques (2)
In all respects, a pure soul that comes in the middle of a complex ball of human relationships and helps unravel them... an interestingly-processed and even more interesting visually-conceived theme, which is elevated especially by Liška's performance (Liška is still drawing his stylization from it to this day). Gideon made a very intimate and essentially melancholy and sad film with several funny situations, several very bad dialogues and a sensitive construction of the story. Every now and then I thought Gideon had overstepped his "intimate" and "realistic" aspects, but I was quite intrigued by Return of the Idiot. It does not go into depth in terms of the characters or the story, but even on the surface it finds a lot of interesting moments, which it offers to the viewer in an attractive visual representation. One of the more interesting films in post-revolutionary cinema...
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This is the most emotional film of the golden 1990s. Pure gold at the end of the wildest decade of Czech cinema. Perhaps for the first time, I appreciated Dostoevsky's hero, because this one, transplanted entirely into a new context, is still the same, but all the more immortal.
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Annonces