Emil Vrbata is probably right to be concerned about his vivacious wife Hana. Having just completed her first film, her career is poised to explode. She also seems quite chummy with Fantl, her much older, but still charming, romantic co-star. However, her promising future is cut short by the Third Reich’s invasion.
The Vrbatas have a mixed marriage. She is Jewish, though not particularly observant (or traditional in any sense), whereas her husband is sufficiently Aryan to become the primary mouthpiece for the National Socialists’ Czechoslovakian propaganda machine. (Indeed, he bears a certain surface resemblance to Marcello Clerici in Bertolucci’s Conformist.) Though his nearly famous wife’s Jewish heritage is known to many, he is able to protect her, provided she stays confined to their apartment.
Suddenly, he is the one pursuing extracurricular affairs, secure in the belief that his wife is safely under lock-and-key. The tables have turned, but keep turning. Having made a deal with the devil, he understands the evil nature of his new masters only too well. As a result, when through ill-fated happenstance, he is accidentally caught up in the plot to assassinate the brutal SS strongman Reinhard Heydrich, he never considers simply telling the truth. To rely on another shopworn aphorism, those with guilty consciences always feel they have something to hide.
Jana Plodková shows real star power as Hana Vrbata, literally shining in the gorgeously shot film-within-the-film scenes. It is a fully dimensional performance, maintaining the audience’s sympathies and credibility despite her character’s manifest flaws. Unfortunately, Marek Daniel seemed to take his direction from Hannah Arendt’s concept of the “banality of evil,” coming across rather stiff and reserved as the morally compromised Emil Vrbata. However, the true standout performance comes from Jiří Ornest as the seemingly rakish Fantl, who convincingly morphs into one of the films few tragically decent figures.
