A Blonde in Love [DVD]

The Second Run release of Forman's A Blonde in Love [1965] has finally arrived and the first thing to say is that the quality is excellent. The image is crisp, clean and full of contrast and detail. Of course there's some damage here and there, it's nearly 50 years old. I'm sure Michael Brooke is correct when he comments that it's better than [or at least comparable to] the much older Criterion edition, the review of which Amazon have appended here, as is their usual custom.

Forty years ago I bought myself a small Studio Vista paperback called New Cinema in Eastern Europe. I spent many an hour gazing into the photographs and trying to imagine the rest of the film. One memorable image was of a young naked blonde girl sitting on a bed, her back turned towards the camera. Happily it's that iconic image that SR have chosen to grace another of their stylish DVD covers.

As a result of this book I developed a substantial 'to see' list, but this one has eluded me until now. This is a beautiful tragicomic film that exhibits a deeply humane understanding and acceptance of human foibles. A Blonde in Love is everything I hoped it would be; I love the loose, unrehearsed manner in which much of the footage of the dance, and other crowd scenes is photographed. A technique also apparent in The Firemen's Ball. Such footage is carefully cut with the dialogue set-ups which are both comic and bittersweet. Then there are the more intimate scenes such as the poignant and in part very funny, one night stand between Andula, the blonde, and Milda a young musician.

Although we see various aspects of Andula's life, at work, at the workers dormitory, and out with her girlfriends, where she exhibits a sullen beauty, we know very little about her or where she's from. There are beautifully played snippets of a back-story involving two other boyfriends, but nothing that gives us a meaningful insight into her thoughts and feelings. Only with the graphic disclosure of a painful incident in her life, and the mention of her father do we gain a slightly deeper understanding of her emotional disposition.

This encounter with Milda leads her to believe that he has offered more than he actually has and so she turns up at his parents house. In an extraordinarily well played final scene between the father and mother, and latterly a drunk Milda, the situation unravels. In the moving conclusion she eavesdrops on their belligerent conversation and as it becomes clear that her emotional investment in him has been misplaced she is brought to tears.

Two short sequences bookend the story and at the conclusion of the film the latter scene forever undermines our perception of the former. In both scenes Andula and a girlfriend are cosily tucked up in bed talking of her relationships in romanticized and idealistic terms.

The excellent booklet essay is by Michael Brooke; although I noticed one tiny error.

Its taken me forty years but I've not been disappointed. This is extraordinary film making, telling a poignant and bittersweet story with deceptive ease. This is my idea of cinema; more please.

Bittersweet is a good word, used by a previous reviewer. This is a bittersweet film. There is certainly comedy (particularly in the cringe-inducing early set-piece at the dance) and yet it's never exactly funny, as the whole picture emerges. There are no real bad guys, but there are crossed wires, hurt feelings and the subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) examples of state control. Nevertheless, it is hard not to be charmed by the characters, from the wide-eyed heroine to the awkwardly matchmaking boss and the bickering parents of the irresponsible Romeo.

The Second Run release is very good. No extras on the dvd, but an informative booklet and a very fine print of the film.

Milos Forman's Loves of a Blonde is a wonderful movie...sweet and awful. Sweet, because Forman gives us no one we can dislike as he tells us the story of Andula (Hana Brejchova), a young factory worker in the depressing town of Zruc, making endless pairs of shoes alongside dozens of other young women. Not Milda (Vladimir Puchott), the young piano player who comes to town with a band, seduces Andula, and then leaves for Prague. Not the factory bosses, or the other young women who are bored and eager for husbands (they outnumber the men 16 to one). Not even the regiment of aging, smoking, unattractive soldiers who were based in Zruc to lower the odds a bit. Not Milda's parents, who one day find Andula at their apartment door, suitcase in hand, because she gave her heart to Milda and took him seriously when he told her to come visit him in Prague sometime.

And awful, in a desperate sort of way, because Forman let's us see the lives all these people live in a Communist society that is petty, officious and incompetent. We can smile at a lecture an older woman gives the young factory girls about maintaining their honor and dignity with boys; we can even smile when two young leaders stand up and call for a vote to dedicate all of them to this idea; and we can smile when every girl in the room raises her hand to vote in favor, none against and none abstaining. Then we realize it might not be a good idea to snicker at a vote in favor of honor when a boss thinks it would be a good idea.

There are two long set pieces in the movie that are terrific. The first is a dance in town, held by officials so that the soldiers can meet the girls. We move around with the camera, listening in to the appalled girls as they really see these desperate, coarse guys, and listening to the guys as they eye the girls, drink for courage and, in one case, surreptitiously remove a wedding ring and then dropping it on the floor for all to see. There's that safe, chirpy dance music...the angling to get a girl to take a walk in the woods...the possibility that the bored girl will agree. The second set piece is in Milda's apartment in Prague. Andula has arrived unannounced. Milda is playing with the band at a nightspot and there are only Milda's parents to welcome her. And welcome they don't. They've heard nothing about her. It's clear Milda is in for a surprise when he gets home that night. Milda's mother is not someone you'd want for a mother-in-law. Milda's father is more realistic but not exactly comforting. Their apartment is a living space of ancient appliances, chipped paint and doilies. The nagging opinions of the mother and the exasperated gruffness from the father make us smile. Of course, they have the opposite effect on Andula, who now is close to tears. Forman seems to be quietly pointing out to us what living in Communist Czechoslovakia has come to mean. Poor Andula. Will she have a happy future with Milda? Or will she return to Zruc...wiser, perhaps, but with nothing better ahead for her. Watch the movie and hope for the best. Andula a nice person.

Loves of a Blonde is so poignant and sweet it hurts a little. Forman used mainly non-actors for most the roles and he had a genius for either eliminating their self-consciousness or for making it work in the context of the story. The movie at the basic level of story-telling is effective because the people, from Andula to the bit parts of people at the dance, look and act like people who aren't acting. We wind up liking most of them and feeling indulgent toward the rest.

The Communist regime eventually caught on to the picture of life in Czechoslovakia which Forman presented with such apparent good humor in Loves of a Blonde and The Firemen's Ball (Criterion Collection). It was happy to see Forman leave the country during the crackdown in 1968. Anyone who thinks Forman, when he came to America, lost his subversive sympathy for people who are at the mercy of institutions and governments needs to watch One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Ragtime or The People vs. Larry Flynt.

The Criterion release looks just fine. There is a video interview with Forman that was made in 2001.