chaos-rampant This is such a strange film. Nominally a Beauty and the Beast rendition (the title translates to Virgin and the Monster), it is introspective wandering through dreams. It is both rich in what we see of dreams and silly. The filmmaker (Juraj Herz, also responsible for Cremator) juggles various moods, sombre elegy to medieval fairytale.As you watch it, it may strike you as both obvious and muddled, obvious because its fantasy is of the schematic sort, with onedimensional characters like the 'kindly father', 'innocent maiden', 'petty step- sisters'. The monster looks silly. So it may seem like it's not worth the effort of bridging the distance to what is going on behind the simplistic surface.However, scrap all that and this may get to you. It got to me, at least for a while. It isn't about just the Gothic mood. Its appeal is a series of interleavened dreams, but you aren't always sure who is dreaming, if sometimes more than one dreamer, and when one bleeds into the next, so you drift with it.Consider this as the story. A rich merchant father has to marry off his daughter in a marriage of convenience, the anxiety this causes to both is at the root of the film. It isn't in the film as such, but you will get something of the sort if you conflate the different threads.From the father's perspective, this means sending off his daughter to live with a 'monster' in his dark lair, from her perspective, it means going to live alone with a stranger, her fate sealed. This translates in several scenes of hallucination, all of it wonderfully visual—the ominous destruction of the merchant wares in the woods, the father's deal with the monster for the girl, the girl's gilded dream of a handsome prince (inside a coffin) and half-frightful, half-anticipatory wandering in the mansion hearing just his voice.The plucking of roses as loss of purity is a central motif.It's silly again as we shift to the monster's soliloquies of what it means to be human, but that is because we don't have a surrogate for him in the level of reality, he solely exists inside the fantasy as the abstract ogre made human by her touch. The Czech often favor a juvenile theatricality.But there's something else that is cool. Now so far all points to constructed realities, dreams as tailored emotional space. The girl wonders if she's not imagining everything, in one scene she visits as ghostly observer her sisters' wedding, no one can see her.Here's how the filmmaker adds layers to the monster. He has conflicting sides to him, two voices that ponder on whether to kill or spare the girl. The 'evil' voice is disembodied, in his mind. This 'evil' narrator is coming from the camera, you'll notice this is linked with subjective shots of the monster as it kills the wench in the woods, roams with a candelabra and early on 'stages' the frightful visit of the father. It's the filmmaker's hand (as internal consciousness shaping the story) pushing for horror, very cool to see.So as with many films of this sort, the film becomes more disposable the more you settle on what the story is supposed to be. It fits somewhere between Lynch, Hourglass Sanatorium for nested doll-worlds, Jean Rollin's wandering and Valerie's Week of Wonders.I listed the films (and makers) in descending order of preference, which for me is the order by which, as you peel away layers, you get less and less of what you thought is there, it opens up, instead of a single solid core. Angels dancing instead of a pin's head.So if you want a cryptic story disguised to mean something, this is cryptic but as with Rollin and Valerie it makes rather simple sense. At the same time, it is dissonant enough once you disengage from story to captivate. I will see if I can track down more from this guy, he may deserve a place in my nightly viewings.

Erik (ErikAngelofMusic) When most people think of the story of Beauty and the Beast (BatB) they usually think of one of two things: either the light-hearted feel-good Disney musical romp or the instructive tale on how to find a good husband by Mme Beaumont. All other versions seem to stay somewhere within these boundaries...except for Panna a Netvor (PaN).PaN follows the original story written in 1740 by Mme Villeneuve which was made into its better known version by Mme Beaumont: The merchant loses his fortune, steals a rose and must send his daughter to the beast to repay him. There, she dreams of a prince, falls in love with the beast, and frees him. It sounds like any other BatB version ever made. However, PaN takes place in a gritty bleak world where the people in it behave like beasts and wealth leads to misery. Even the scene which introduces the merchant opens on town life with animals being slaughtered.Netvor is not a gentle soul hoping to be saved. The first time he is introduced, we see his claw tear at a woman's dress and then later learn that he's killed her. He feasts on the female blood and, when Julie (Beauty) arrives, she is drugged in preparation for him to kill her which he only barely refrains from doing. Instead, he is forced to hunt and we see an unsympathetic scene of him setting upon a doe. Also unlike any other BatB, he has the shape of a bird which presents a grotesque and unpleasant appearance.The casting of Vlastimil Harapes for the part of Netvor was genius. Harapes was one of the leading ballet danseurs of his generation and since went on to be the art director of the National Theatre of the Czech Republic. Watching him in PaN, I could not imagine that anyone else could so perfectly nail the physicality of the character, who could so convince me of the truth of his story. His costume isn't fancy or hi-tech makeup and yet I can do nothing but believe that this character exists and that he is a tormented half-human creature. Despite being brutal and vicious, the audience aches for him: his pains are ours, his sorrows ours, his few joys ours as well.Netvor's costume is simple: a fitted mask, tattered clothes, claw gloves and a feathered cloak, the mask preventing his facial expressions from being seen. Despite the limitations it causes, Harapes delivers a performance so moving and powerful that even when he has no lines his emotions are palpable. When Julie is contemplating running away, he watches her from above, and when she closes the gate and returns, for an instant you see netvor ease back against the rock in relief. It's easy to miss; there are no words, and yet it's a subtle and beautifully executed moment of the film. Even the cloak which has a propensity to be an obstacle and hide the actor's body language is instead used as if it is part of his body as expressive as his own hands.Julie (Zdena Studenkova) provides an unusual alternative to the typical beauty. Although she seems innocent, symbolically wearing white clothing throughout the film and having been given a white rose, she's frightened that her beastly host does not exist, that she's imagining him, and doubts her own beauty, wondering if she's beautiful enough for him. But most unusual, she can be cruel, which gives her a dimension of humanity most versions do not afford.Juraj Herz, the director, manages to bring out the very best in his cast. Many scenes, even those without Vlastimil Harapes, look more like highly choreographed dances than mere blocking, with the best instance being when Julie returns home and her sisters pull her back and forth between them. It looks simple until you realise that this isn't something that just occurred naturally, that it had to be practiced and rehearsed and perfected before they could shoot the scene. The symbolism is ever-present, the palette colours carefully chosen, every detail precisely placed so that they could tell their own story. And while every aspect of the film serves a function, not only is it open for many layers of interpretation, but it was achieved on what Hollywood would consider a shoestring.Additionally, this film was made in 1978 in Czechoslovakia under Communist supervision. As such, the film is completely for the anti-glorification of material wealth which seems hard to achieve with a story about a merchant who tries to regain his money and a cursed prince. The merchant's caravan in the beginning shows that wealth makes beasts of all men. The merchant, after regaining his wealth, returns home only to be miserable and unhappy that Julie is no longer there. His two remaining daughters subsequently strip him bare of every possession he has when they marry two greedy men, indicative of how material things can bring out the worst in people. Even netvor lives in a decaying castle completely devoid of fine things and yet, Julie finds happiness and love in such a setting.It is a rare occasion to come across a dark version of such a typically uplifting and pleasant fairy tale. Even the few that do exist lack capable actors, capable directors, and a sense of artistic vision. Between the chemistry of the performers and the unusual, sometimes disturbing, romance on a backdrop of devastation and decay, there is a harmonious discord which somehow makes perfect sense. This film not only delivers a strange, dark, gritty tale with perfectly cast leads, but provides an intellectual journey both in terms of subtext and symbolism and provides a view of socio-politic effects upon a story which is shared by all cultures.

vainoni So, "Panna a Netvor"--"Beauty and the Beast" for English-speakers, though a more accurate translation is "The Maiden and the Monster." It's a more horror-tinged version of the tale, and is really not for little kids.Fairy tales seem to specialize in magical transformations: beasts into humans , paupers into princes and princesses, etc. But look again and you'll see that the transformations aren't really transformations--Cinderella, for example, was always a princess on the inside; she just had to be recognized as one. So what many fairy tales do is show things as they really are--or, at least, as they should be. This version of "Beauty and the Beast" shows things as they are *and* how they should be, and works toward bridging the gap, making it more modern than your average fairy tale.When the story starts, things as they are are pretty horrifying: our "Beast" (Netvor) is not a prince--he is never called one, he lives in a mansion and not a castle, and though he has servants they are monsters similar to himself. He is partially a bird and partially a beast (which is represented by both his body and a sinister voice that tells him to kill things, including our "Beauty," Julie). His little voice tells us that he's been fully transmogrified for at least twenty years.It's usually pretty hard to make any "Beauty" interesting, since she merely exists to be lovely and good so that the "Beast" figure can be saved, but this movie gives it a go. As in the original fairy tale, she is the daughter of a merchant, not an inventor (as in the Disney version); her two selfish, money-obsessed sisters are slated to be married to other merchants, and their father has sunk everything into buying things for their respective weddings. Unfortunately, the goods need to travel through the Black Forest, and the people driving the carts stumble across one of the Beast's trip wires. So all the merchant's property is destroyed, and he and his three daughters are destitute. The merchant goes off with their mother's portrait to sell. The two selfish daughters want gold and gems, but Julie will accept a wild rose (his suggestion, not hers). He *also* needs to go through the Black Forest (WHY? WHY?!), but our Beast has gotten his fill of violence from the destruction of the merchant's goods, so his human side is slightly dominant over his beast one. When the merchant stumbles into the house, the Beast has his servants feed him and give him wine, and he even lays out jewels on the table for the merchant to take in exchange for the portrait. (These gems are not at all valuable to the Beast--magic works according to strange rules in this movie.) Then the merchant takes one of the Beast's roses, and you *know* what happens then. :) When he returns with shiny things, the two older sisters are thrilled, even after the merchant tells them he needs to die because he took a rose for Julie. Unless, of course, one of the three daughters will go back to the Beast in his place (that's always part of the deal)...and there's Julie, riding off into the forest. Notice, though, that the merchant said nothing about a beast.Anyway, Julie shows up at the manor, drinks some suspicious-looking wine (poured by the gremlin who lives in the chandelier) and passes out. She then has a dream of being shut up in a coffin (alive) and rescued by (we presume) the Beast in human form. While she sleeps, the Beast stands over her and struggles with the little voice that wants him to kill her and drink her blood. Finally, he runs off into the woods and kills a deer.When Julie wakes up, she's alone. While she's sitting in front of the fire, the Beast shows up behind her, ordering her not to turn around, and he interrogates her. She tells him why she's there. He asks if he can visit her the next night, and the cat-and-mouse chase begins. Believe it or not, the little voice is still pretty adamant about killing her. So her days go on--every morning and evening, the table seems to set itself, and she has pretty jewels and dresses to wear, and life is good. The Beast visits her at night, but only briefly.Now I need to back up a bit. Magic, in this movie, is dependent on two things: the worth of the object to be transformed and how much the magic-maker/receiver deserves that object. The Beast's gremlins serve him less because he deserves it and more because his force compels it, but it's the same general principle. The gems that the Beast gave Julie's father were created only because he gave up the portrait of his wife--the sentimental value transformed everyday, broken-down objects into precious gemstones, because the merchant deserved them for his sacrifice. Julie's things are beautiful because she deserves them. When she goes home, her sisters insist on "borrowing" (read: stealing) her things, but as soon as the one sister tries on her dress, it turns to rags, and as soon as the other sister tries on her necklace, it turns to mud. Why? Because they don't deserve them. There is a strong element of justice in a lot of fairy-tales, but the theme does not usually play out quite so strongly in "Beauty in the Beast" (which is usually skewed toward *not* judging, based on appearances or anything else).The Beast is made human due to the same general principles of this magic. He works toward deserving happiness. Julie is an active agent, but he is (as Michelangelo said) the marble and the sculptor--the substance, and the worker of that substance.The end is a reprise of Julie's earlier dream, and is very '70's and a little tacky. Ah well.This is probably my favorite version of the fairy tale. Recommended.

Hughmn I saw this film many years ago at Filmex in Los Angeles, and it left a strong impression. It is a truly beautiful version of the fairy tale Beauty and the Beast. It is a real shame that Herz's films are not available today, at least to US cinephiles. I remember this film as having been done in a very naturalistic way, with (I think) no optical effects at all. The costumes were wonderful, as was the music and the acting. It seems to me there was a situation in which a woman's dress turned to mud (in a simple jump cut). The "Beast" is especially striking, with his bird-like plumage. Anyone at Facets want to take this one on?