War of Colours

Twenty years after its premiere, it is finally possible to return to War of Colours in a reasonable format and enjoy everything I love about Czech films from the 90s. All the discoveries of the Western style of storytelling, all the montages and clip passages, the attractive setting, the ingeniously written roles for the local actors, and the unique feeling of that high when even little Aňa with a blonde wig could conquer the world. Her wonderfully childish dialogues about first love, betrayal, and the big world are a treat to listen to. Of course, the modeling environment also does its job, and also the well-chosen (not only) Prague locations. The worldly Hanák is also absolutely great, even better next to the homely Vaculík. Ah, the golden '90s! (07/09/2016)

Filipangelo Renčonioni: A piece of shit. I dare say that the audio aspect captured my interest. Whether it was a Mitsubishi driving through the empty streets of Prague at dawn with something like tech-noir Brad Fiedel playing, or ambient music seemingly lifted from Badalamenti's score. But then any character spoke, and everything was lost. Lukáš Vaculík, who never changes his outfit, is in the same position as in his films that have meteorological phenomena in their titles. Geislerová appears as a slightly childish femme fatale, Hanák with calluses on his hands from pressing hard, and as a silent bonus, Milan Mejla Hlavsa looking like Karpof, releasing rats with teeth coated in a potent poison. Filip Renč is bold with the time and place, but these are the moments when the creator knows the plot’s inferiority and, in his self-centeredness, mistakenly believes he can compensate with atmosphere. (12/18/2023)