NinadeL

All kidding aside. It is indeed sympathetic that to this day Bohdalová can still bow to Procházka, but was there really only one film that was worth so much that she would throw away her entire previous career for it? The Ear soon became the reason for her varied efforts in film (since 1937) with considerable results, and she quickly turned into a stereotypical constant on the television screen. Later, she did try to return to the big screen, but the small amount from the 1990s can never make up for the wasted two decades in which she could have fully capitalized on her mature acting. Brzobohatý and Kachyňa were of course lucky in their misfortune, as they continued on much more smoothly...

It may not be the hard life of an adventurer, but at times Strictly Secret Premieres can be reminiscent of Mac Frič's more interesting and better films. Frič did not have it easy after The Poacher's Foster Daughter or Noble Millionaire and his work in the 1950s and 1960s was a real roller coaster ride. In any case, it is not clear to me what Bohdalová combined with Sovák did to charm him. From a different point of view, what is truly remarkable about the Strictly Secret Premieres is how generous and varied the costumes were.

If I'm cheering for the mere presence of Josef Langmiler, something must be very wrong. The Bohdalová/Krampol psycho romance was a very wild idea. Kachlík's film is based on a single formal idea, and that's not much...

One of Martin Frič's biggest fails. The film has a strange script and a strange way of guiding actors. The visual with Ester Krumbach's monogram. A dead end in every respect. However, I could understand Sovák's expectation of doing another interesting film after Darbujan and Pandrhola, but on the other hand, I regret that Martin liked Bohdalová so much.

The traditional tip of the iceberg of quality television production, or that we broadcast the best stuff minimally, twice was enough, in five years for the tenth time and beyond? Then again, ten years from now it'll be just about right.

If I was to review this as an amateur film, it would turn out great.

I got my initial shock from Tomáš Magnusek's other works, but now I consider his contribution to Czech cinema as a certain line of independent production. The formal aspects are bad, and the acting is significantly cloudy, yet the theme is unfortunately topical and apt. The script is sometimes naive, sometimes very striking.

"You don't deserve those four beautiful children because you're a reckless whore," Kemr said to Bohdalová and asked her to marry him. The entire film didn't really build up acting-wise and overall until the last few minutes, which isn't much. I was hoping for a better film.

The Barrandov primus that started it all. After the 1898-1932 era, which saw several breakthrough "Year Zeros" of Czech cinema, the decisive moment of the Barrandov miracle came. And it was right out of the woods. It features a great agile camera, exquisite interiors, fancy props, an excellent cast and a good continuation of the Czech crime drama, which has been flirted with in various variations since the early days. Now it's just a matter of choosing whether I'm more interested in the performances of Rogoz or Plachta or the girls Lhotová or Hermanová. Jarmila, however, had the folding serving table.

Until the Revolution, the themes drawn from Páral might have provided something new, but after he was discredited as an author by the Czech films Playgirls and Lovers & Murderers, he cannot be trusted. Through this lens, I would have expected a pleasant surprise. However, it is a pleasure just to watch Kolářová's performance. And just for the sake of interest, it is worth noting the trio of cameos by Menzel, Neckář and Bohdalová. This phenomenon has not been otherwise cultivated in Czech cinema.