One of the most notorious films of the Czech New Wave, A Case for the Young Hangman was completed in 1969 but screened for only two months until the Soviet invasion caused it to be banned. A willfully deranged adaptation of the third book of Gulliver’s Travels, the film is widely considered Jurácek’s masterpiece, as committed to avoiding all forms of plot and logic, and to embracing a dreamworld of symbols and signs, as the greatest Surrealist works. A rabbit in a suit, an Academy of Invention where everyone is silent, a “hand-powered” thinking machine, a country that has eliminated November (to “get rid of flu epidemics”): our hero discovers all this and more during his travels from Lilliput to Balnibari to Laputa, journeys shot with noirish intensity by cinematographer Jan Kalis. “The time in which we live baffles any logic, and reason has lost its meaning in it,” Jurácek wrote to describe this work, even before the regime pushed reality to even more baffling extremes. —Jason Sanders, BAM/PFA
Political reality was unkind—to put it mildly—to the work and life of writer-director Pavel Jurácek (1935–1989), one of the Czech New Wave’s most neglected personalities. Inspired by two icons of Czech literature—the antimilitarist, antiauthoritarian anecdotal style of Jaroslav Hasek and the grotesque nightmares of Franz Kafka—Jurácek’s writing also drew on a concise intellectual rigor that was most apparent in his scripts for others (science fiction and fantasy were his forte). The son of a waitress and a shop-window designer, he was booted out of Prague’s Charles University after gaining a reputation as a “frivolous debauchee” and worked as a newspaper editor until being accepted at the major Czech film school FAMU in 1957. Honing his scriptwriting talents with such future luminaries as Vera Chytilová, he left FAMU to concentrate on writing and directing. His two surrealist masterpieces, Josef Kilián and A Case for the Young Hangman, were “banned forever” after the Soviet invasion… read more