Cutting it Short

The Czech movie industry is famous for its masterpieces. And when they meet a genius as Hrabal the outcome is excellent. The story is about a country-side brewery somewhere in Czech republic, at the beginning of the 20th century (maybe right after WWI). We get a very good picture of the nature of czech people influenced by the rigurous Germans (represented by the manager of the brewery) and the cheerful slavic nature of men who like good food and lots of beer. We get also a glimpse of the beauty of the Czech women in the person of the wife of the manager. The movie shows also very well the change of the society in those times. At the beginning everything is happening slowly, everybody is calm, and gradually things quicken up, distances shorten and the world is changing radically.

If you like american comedy, please don't watch this movie. You won't understand it. But if you like to see a good European movie, you should not miss this.

This is the only film that makes me salivate. Yes, for a glass of Czech beer, a plate of pork and the beautiful Magda Vášáryová. It's a fond look at the lives of writer Bohumil Hrabal's parents in pre-war Czechoslovakia — father a put-upon brewery manager, mother sensual and flirtatious — and his eccentric, Švejk-like Uncle Pepin, who arrives uninvited and doesn't leave.

There's a lot of smiling and larking about, in and around the small-town brewery that was their home, and even those suffering injuries as a result seem to laugh at them. Utopian and nostalgic maybe, but why not? Nowadays we'd call it "feelgood". And that horse pissing — unscripted, surely (!) but the actors cope and director Jiří Menzel leaves it in to add to the mayhem.

I read the book years ago, but didn't realise until much later that Menzel had filmed it: what joy! Hrabal's breathless prose style is probably impossible to capture on screen, but the essence of the short story is not. In Menzel's loving hands the result is such a beautiful film, tender, whimsical, joyful, sensual, life-enhancing. I'd say that Postřižiny is definitely on a par with his better-known Ostře Sledované Vlaky (Closely Observed Trains), perhaps even superior as it benefits from more modern production quality, and colour. Such a shame it is not better known in the west — definitely our loss! But the Czech DVD has fairly good English subtitles for those unfortunates like myself who cannot speak the language, so now there is no excuse for not seeking out this gem.

Incidentally, Hrabal grew up in the brewery at Nymburk, east of Prague, but the film was actually shot at the Dalešice brewery further south in Moravia. Was the chimney there as tall, I wonder...?

I agree with most of the comments above. This movie is an absolute gem. The CZ communist regime, however harsh and unfriendly towards many artists - including Hrabal and Menzel, was quite supportive to the film industry and the film directors had state grants for their work and advisory boards consisting of educated people evaluating every new movie to be made. Also there was no pressure to make the movies commercially successful as you can see now, and that is how communists actually helped to create the Czech Wave of great movies in 60's and later....I just read an interview with Menzel where he talks of this and compares the situation of before 1989 and now....Hrabal certainly was a genius, I remember that even Kundera said that Hrabal was just a talent by god that he was above all Czech writers of his time....cant agree that he is not known in western Europe, I met some people in France who approached me in a street when they saw that I am reading his novel and started to talk of their love for Hrabal. Also some Canadians whom I know here in London mentioned this movie to me several times by themselves, they just could not remember the name, only the characters :))....Cant wait to see the "English King" in the movies, Menzel says that it took him over a year to work on the screenplay and seems to be aware of the magnitude of the work....unfortunately now when Hrabal is dead he cant assist Menzel with the work as he did before...well, we'll see...

The western world paid its dues to Jiri Menzel with Closely Watched Trains, Czechoslovak cinema enjoyed its time in the spotlight for about five years, then as the Soviet tanks moved in on Prague and the UN sat and watched in carefully outraged anticipation, Milos Forman and a bunch of people left for greener pastures, those who stayed behind to make movies devised new ways to sidestep and confuse the Soviet mechanism, and everyone else went home to find the next New Wave/foreign national school of cinema to praise in dumbfounded amazement that movies were actually made outside of LA, Rome, and Paris. Ironically enough, the legendary Filmove Studio Barrandov that lent considerable resources at the hands of the Czech New Wave are now hiring out to major Hollywood productions.

My girlfriend is half-Czech which means I'm very lucky to get an insider's view of that culture. It's also funny because she doesn't know the famous Oscar material, Closely Watched Trains or Firemen's Ball or The Shop on Main Street, but she was showing me the other day a VHS of a 1931 comedy that is apparently a family favourite. I perfectly understand that because I'm Greek and Theo Angelopoulos is only discussed/ridiculed as "artsy" for his pretentiously long shot by people who haven't sat through one of his movies - he is the prestige cinema we export and send to Cannes every so many years but it's not what we watch as a peoples. Anyway, I wouldn't have seen this otherwise and I've seen no one mention it.

This is one of those movies the Criterion establishment has not managed to salvage for a world audience yet remains a household national classic in its home country. And it's not one of those movies that don't translate well because, like Closely Watched Trains or most Czech New Wave films for that matter, the humour is mostly physical and visual in the manner of silent cinema, the characters are drawn in identifiable ways because we may need cultural context to understand a ronin or a geisha but a neglectful boss is a neglectful boss in any language, although this is what Italians did in their spaghettis and the Czech always refined/elevated their characters above simple stereotype. Thus the fake priest in Fararuv Konec does the small village better spiritual service than the real ones and the leering doctor in this one is painted in gentlemanly colors. It's the comedy of the running gag and the pratfall so that the viewer is not even required to understand/decipher the political allegory behind it to at least enjoy it. Indeed a running gag in the film is the mention of silent comedian Lupino Lane and the owners of the brewery where the film takes place complain, when one of their meetings is turned into chaos and mockery, that this is not a Charlie Chaplin movie.

This is a movie where the brewery manager's earnest attempts at professionalism and seriousness are sidetracked by a mocking universe where a motorcycle will never start and where his annoying, loud-voiced, brother destroys his domestical peace, at some degree Bohumil Hrabal takes a jab at the unbearable lightness of being, or as the wife says about her husband who moves around in a constant scowl, with slumped shoulders, "he has the muscles of a gladiator but he feels like a skinned rabbit". But this is also a movie about the wife, the beautiful radiant woman whom everyone at the small village oogles at and yet who glides around life like a breeze, allowing nothing to cling to her, nothing to molest that purity of life and character, and as a testament to the kind of optimist lifeaffirming film Jiri Menzel is doing, that purity is never put to a test, is never groped at or corrupted by outside circumstances. The beauty of this comes with a question; would the husband be the grouch he is if his wife wasn't as breezy as she is? Or better yet, if a person in a relationship takes the lightness for herself, does that mean the other must by necessity shoulder the unbearableness of that lightness? The end is a happy one, like the silent comedians reserved for their audience. By the same token, this is cinema that addresses a broad audience but does so in a simple refined manner. Good stuff.

A wonderful Czech classic that can be seen over and over! In my opinion, this is a film that is best understood if you are a native Czech, appreciate Czech humor and character, and like Bohumil Hrabal's "tender barbarian" style of writing. It is not so much a movie about a local brewery director, his wife and their life in the brewery that strives to be an utterly funny comedy, as it is a lovely view of Hrabal's parents, his unique uncle Pepin, and the times of "cutting it short", that brings a smile to your face and keeps it there for the duration of the film. I can understand that Postriziny can be very hard for non-Czech viewers to appreciate.