An Evening with Svatý Václav

The Society of Arts & Sciences Los Angeles and Consulate General of the Czech Republic in Westwood hosted a screening of Svatý Václav (Saint Wenceslas) earlier this week to commemorate Czech Statehood Day (today, September 28, in recognition of Svatý Václav’s assassination).  The country has been celebrating the holiday since 2000.  The silent film was produced in 1930 to lasso together the Czech people and cultivate a sense of national pride.  The production had a huge budget of two to four million koruna via state grant, with Jan S. Kolár directing, starring Zdeněk Štěpánek (who birthed two actor sons).  The Czech film industry was in the big leagues in the late 1920/early 1930s and one can see the quality of the film holds up to anything American produced at that time and is reported to be the largest production brought to the screen anywhere at that point.  Unfortunately, it missed its original release date and studios postponed its premiere a year later in 1930.  By then, talkies had taken over and mainstream audiences were largely disinterested.  However, the film would become important a few years later when Hitler came to power and the country needed to unite as a whole to the rising fascist. 

Michael presented the film on Wednesday evening and shared a nice little introduction to prepare the audience.  Saint Wenceslas (who inspired the Christmas standard “Good King Wenceslas”), whom I share a first name with, is considered the patron saint of the Czechs and carries the additional title of Duke of Bohemia.  The print we saw appeared to have a remastered soundtrack with pristine quality. 

I’ll be the first to admit that my attention span doesn’t allow for movies made before the late 1960s, especially silent movies, unless I really make an effort to try.  Even then, it’s easy for me to get lost.  I remained engrossed in the historical document, never-the-less.  While touching on historical facts, director Kolár engages in myth-making, as the task dictated. The advent of Christianity indoctrinating pagan Bohemian farmers plays as a prologue to Václav’s life from birth to death during the tenth century (he died in his late 20s).  He’s treated as the second-coming in a story filled with love subplots, an epic war, and some political intrigue.  A series of battle scenes involving invading tribes climaxes with pacifist Wenceslas brokering peace.  The negotiation leads to a huge gluttonous feast for the royalty, ending with an elderly blind man playing a harp while regaling the company with a foreshadowing tale of family tragedy.  Consequently, his jealous brother, Boleslav the Cruel, hungry for power, plots the death of his sibling and backstabs him a la Julius Cesar.  After the Duke is assassinated for not being a warmonger, a huge wind whips through the kingdom as a final word before the film finishes. 

The acting is sometimes melodramatic, other times surprisingly authentic.  There are some well choreographed scenes involving thousands of extras and horses.  The title cards aren't frequent and it's challenging for the viewing-impaired to suss out all of the main identities and allegiances, especially without an informed religious context.  While it was easy for me to lose my attention not quite being able to follow who was who and what was happening in every moment, the general gist was there and it was fascinating to watch life in the 900s for the elite in their log cabin and stone castles with animal skins hanging from the doorways.