Film: The Valley Of The Bees
Release date: 22nd March 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 97 mins
Director: František Vláčil
Starring: Petr Cepek, Jan Kacer, Vera Galatíková, Zdenek Kryzánek
Genre: Drama
Studio: Second Run
Format: DVD
Country: Czechoslovakia
When it was originally released at home, there was something of a furore, given the Soviet’s invasion of Czechoslovakia and the political spin given to the film’s theme – this all-new digital transfer release, with restored picture and sound, arrived with less fuss.
The story is as simple as they come. When Ondrej is introduced to his father’s new wife, as many children would, he shows his displeasure (although few would be as creative as to hide bats in a basket of flower petals). Scaring his new mother to be enrages his father who hurls him against one of the castle’s stone walls. Fearing Ondrej’s death, his father promises to give him to god should he save his life.
Subsequently raised in a strict monastery, Ondrej (Petr Cepek) understandably decides to break free from this forced vocation (where he’s renounced his family and riches) and return home, after severe and unjust punishment following another monk’s escape attempt – he is subsequently sent to his death and fed to savage dogs – but his dedicated mentor, Armin (Jan Kacer), cannot accept his defection from the Order Of The Teutonic Knights, and sets out in fixated pursuit (“he has gone astray, but his soul will return here”)…
Visually The Valley Of The Bees is a treat, and there is breathtaking imagery throughout - from the scenery, to key scenes, including the cell door opening to reveal the retina burning power of the sun, to the impressive recreation of the times. The restored black-and-white cinematography adds to this splendour no doubt, and the beauty of the film to look at contrasts extremely with its tone.
The imagery is never more stark or powerful than in its depiction of violence – graphic and shocking, particularly for the time. Although the swordsplay/fight scene is amusingly inept, when you see dogs set upon a man, or a throat slit, it is unflinchingly sadistic and jolting.
The story itself is disconcerting enough, tackling the extremes of religion and a number of relatable side issues, including self-harm and incest (his mother ultimately becomes his bride, and she is not averse to flagellating herself in the barn from time to time).
Hardly an easy watch therefore, and perhaps overly conceited in its delivery – with messages of “suffering is the way to god” delivered by our two key protagonists lying naked in the sea early on. It’s not helped by the introduction of characters with little explanation or worth (a blind woman is happened upon by Armin, and he threatens to sever her hand if she touches him), although those that do appear put in suitably sombre performances – even if the dialogue suggests their deadpan deliveries are out of place – with Jan Kacer, in particular, suitably superior.
The constant background noise, the sound of bees (which does wear), and then the sudden shift to silence does work in the overall unnerving of the viewer, as does the deep, god-like delivery (sounding detached to the rest of the film) of the men (rarely do you see a character’s mouth move, with little eye contact between the cast, and the camera panning out whilst their voices carry great distances).
As with many of the scenes throughout (particularly the dramatically cut opening scenes that see our young lead attacked and then cradled by his father), the end packs an enormous clout, but it’s a long and morose test that only the most ardent of film fans - or a film student keen to interpret the many underlying messages - would subject themselves to.
Difficult to follow, even at its calculated dawdling pace, it’s nevertheless an inimitable piece of filmmaking, with glorious cinematography ultimately prevailing. DH
No comments:
Post a Comment