Truly enjoyed Forman's wittily observant ways in painting his characters. Also appreciated those still shots with seemingly organic human interactions and dialogues. He told a very simple story in a rather endearing yet impactful way. It's crazy to think how relatable this film still is 50 odd years on, as it reflects the social construct then, we see that young women are still as vulnerable as ever.
Wittily observant and melancholically droll. Just as the economic system was expected to grind on forever, so was a ritual of asymmetric expectation and exploitation between young men and young women. The disruption to that ritual is comic gold as well as wistfully sad but one also has just the feeling that having disrupted it once, our heroine may just do so again.
‘A blonde’ , not a woman, that’s how they were referred to back in the day. But her story is so full of poignant, so full of humanity, even the minor characters are given life- the married man at the drink who can’t go through with adultery despite being completely pissed, you just know he is miserable at home, his ring, kicked around the dance floor, becomes a poignant metaphor for the whole film.
Rendere ricca una storia semplice è cosa per pochi, ma Forman tra quei pochi ha un posto assicurato. Andula somiglia veramente ad una chitarra dipinta da Picasso, mentre con ingenuità si rende protagonista di un film che riesce ad essere attuale anche oggi, mezzo secolo dopo la sua realizzazione. La regia copre con un velo ironico una pellicola di per sé un pò triste, ma che lascia una gran gioia agli occhi.