A gateway or door for Janus, god of beginnings, gates, transitions, time, duality, doorways, passages, frames, and ending.

 

A man named Gulliver (Lubomír Kostelka) accidentally runs over a rabbit, who is dressed to the nines and carries a pocket watch. Slowly, the man finds himself in a sort of Wonderland.

Voting, for the Representation of the People Act 1918, UK.

 

Made for the Czechoslovak Pavilion at #Expo67 in #Montréal, Kinoautomat was the world's first interactive film. During nine moments in the story, a moderator would appear on the stage, and ask the audience where the story should go now. Depending on the votes, one of two reels would play.

“The Kinoautomat in the Czechoslovak Pavilion is a guaranteed hit of the World Exposition, and the Czechs should build a monument to the man who conceived the idea, Radúz Činčera.”

– The New Yorker

After its very successful performance at Expo 67, and a one year run in Prague, Kinoautomat was banned by the Czechoslovakian government.

“The 17th of July. Comrade Anna is not lying!”

“So will someone tell me what happened or not? A brother shouldn't turn against his brother. And a guest shouldn't turn against a guest.”

– the host

In Věra Chytilová's O něčem jiném, parallel storylines, one filmed as a documentary the other as a fictional drama, of two women are shown.

“So where do we go from here?”

– Eva

Olympic gymnast Eva (Eva Bosáková) undergoes a gruelling training regime. Housewife Věra (Věra Uzelacová) feels neglected by her husband. Both ruminate on a different life.

Ester Krumbachová's feminist farce is a delight of many flavours. Ona (Jiřina Bohdalová) is already 40 and in need of a man. She remembers one from her youth, the handsome, slim, and very cultured Eng. Bohouš Čerta (litt. “God the Devil, Engineer”, played by the always great Vladimír Menšík), and knows that the one way to a man's heart is through the stomach.

 

Her cooking is immaculate. So are her looks and her apartment (all created by one-time director Krumbachová who worked as a costume designer and screenwriter). Unfortunately, her beau has turned boorish and stuffs his face with all but her and the furniture (is that true?). But cooking she can, and wanting she does. So she cooks and cooks and cooks up some more.

Drak [“dragon” or “devil”] returns to his village. No one understands why he came back, or where he has been. The villagers postulate smugglers and there's other drunk nefarious thoughts, but for sure they know that with the potter, the draught returned. In an unspoken ritual sung in old tongues, the grey women summon the rain. The forest, dry as tinder, has taken the cattle, all there is. Drak knows where the animals went and a deal is struck.

“Don't you recognise me?”

– Drak

Drak sa vracia speaks in mere whispers and smoky greys. The main characters – the #fire, smoke, pottery, and composer Ilja Zeljenka's often silent motif – weave their wordless presence throughout the ancient landscape; that same landscape that carved itself into the locals' being.