Roman Němec | O Otci (About a Father) / 2017

THE BACKCOUNTRY

by Douglas Messerli

 

Roman Němec (screenwriter and director) O Otci (About a Father) / 2017 [30 minutes]

 

Every year Jindrich (Antonín Procházka) takes two months off to escape alone to the family cottage in the rural Czech Republic, while his wife (Alena Mihulová) remains in the city; but this year he is having serious heart problems and is awaiting a heart transplant, and accordingly his wife has joined him at the country cottage in order to take care of him, making sure he gets the proper rest and medicines.

    And it is to that cottage where their son David (Jakub Krejca), a gay man out to his mother and most of his urban friends, takes his lover and now fiancée Adam (Jirí Vojta) for a visit, planning to not only introduce the handsome teacher to his family and but finally come out to his father simultaneously.

    Right from the start, however, things to not go quite as swimmingly as David has predicted. The two arrive drunk, sneaking up the creaking stairway to David’s bedroom. And the moment David goes off to the bathroom Adam suddenly realizes that he has to puke. He quickly opens the windows and vomits all over the immaculate roof. He picks up a glass of water in a futile attempt to wash it away, but it has utterly no effect. Now completely naked—inexplicably Adam has a predilection throughout this movie to undress and sneak downstairs to the kitchen for water or other needs—he makes his way down the creaky stairs and brings back a bucket a water, but still being quite inebriated, he trips, accidently dumping most of it on their bed, pouring out the rest on the rooftop, still without having much of an effect.

    The vomit, both below and rooftop, is what greets David’s mother as she scurries about her work early the next morning. But she is even more irritated by the fact that her son—who she argues feels he has to announce to world that he’s a homosexual—intends to tell his father as well as announce his upcoming marriage to Adam. She is terrified that the news might kill him, insisting that he wait until he gets a new heart. But his serious health problems, David argues, is precisely why he should tell him now, before something happens. David is convinced that it is important he know who and what his son is before he dies. But the mother is even more strongly convinced that there is no hurry to tell him, in fact, she quickly reveals that she feels there is no need to ever tell him, let alone the whole world to whom she perceives her son addressing in his revelations about his sexuality. She ascribes David’s need to tell his father and others who he is as being selfish, without recognizing that what she is actually revealing is all about herself, her deep-bred fears. In short, she is a homophobe, perfectly at home with people of the “backcountry.”

  And we soon get a glimpse of how the nice people of the beautiful Czech backcountry behave when David and Adam take a trip to get some provisions in the nearby village. In the grocery, a woman glares at the two, simply for their occasionally joyful laughing and, at one point, comparing the size of cucumbers. Even the girl at the cash register seems anxious for them to leave. At the local bar they are immediately attached by locals, who purposely spill the beer David has orders upon him; Adam, stepping up to protect him, is slugged and ends up with a bloody nose. The two immediately make a get-away on their bikes, stopping finally along the way home to release their emotions in a field, David, jocularly commenting: “Welcome to the backcountry.”

  And we soon get a glimpse of how the nice people of the beautiful Czech backcountry behave when David and Adam take a trip to get some provisions in the nearby village. In the grocery, a woman glares at the two, simply for their occasionally joyful laughing and, at one point, comparing the size of cucumbers. Even the girl at the cash register seems anxious for them to leave. At the local bar they are immediately attached by locals, who purposely spill the beer David has orders upon him; Adam, stepping up to protect him, is slugged and ends up with a bloody nose. The two immediately make a get away on their bikes, stopping finally along the way home to release their emotions in a field, David, jocularly commenting: “Welcome to the backcountry.”

     They return home and have glorious sex. Soon after, David asks for some water, Adam once more attempting to sneak down utterly naked, now in late evening, to bring his lover a drink, but the father still up reading calls out for Adam to bring him a drink as well, and the boyfriend, grabbing up a hand towel, finds himself suddenly sitting across from his future-father-in-law having an intense conversation about a familiar literature figure. The two seem to carry on their conversation deep into the night, David sneaking down to observe them in an intense discussion, smiling with delight.

    A day or so later, for reasons unexplained, the mother has determined for travel back to the city with David a day, and now intends to put Adam in charge of her husband, explaining to him the dosages of nitrates and other medicines and the possibility of the call from the hospital that they have found an appropriate heart.

    The minute they depart, however, Jindrich pulls out his rucksack, and refusing to hear any of Adam’s arguments against his plans hike to the nearest small and isolated castle, a site that was involved in one of the fictions they had been discussing the other night. Try as he might, Adam cannot intervene in Jindrich’s jaunt up the mountains, the elderly man insisting that given the glorious weather and the chance to again commune with nature is not only rejuvenating but a true tonic.

    They visit the Houska castle and the elder explains its history, fascinated by the fact that there was no reason for it being constructed in the spot where it exists, no roads leading to it, no land to protect, and, most importantly, no source of water.

    It’s a truly lovely adventure for both men; but on the way back, Jindrich grows tired, Adam suggesting that they rest. But while Adam prepares the nitrate pill, Jindrich passes out. An air ambulance is called, and by the time that David and his mother can return, the father has died, the mother blaming Adam, as we might expect, for the outcome.

    David, while remaining supportive of his lover, is still saddened by his failure to reveal himself to his father. But in closing up some business he comes across a letter in his father’s desk addressed to him. In it the father expresses his earlier worry that his son seemed to be lost and confused about his future; but praises the fact that he is now found a good mate with whom he can spend the rest his life, and he is assured of his son’s happiness in his life ahead. As he writes: “I am at peace and happy that you have become such a loving, sensitive, and thoughtful man.”

    In short, either the father has been far more aware than the others had given him credit or Adam and he had discussed other matters than literature than night as the boy sat naked across from him. David need no longer wonder what would have his father thought of him since he now knows of not only his gather’s awareness but of his total acceptance, apart from what his mother might think.

    Given the various levels of homophobia in this work, it is remarkable that David’s father has stood apart from the world around him. We can well understand why each summer, Jindrich was delighted to get away from it all and live a life alone and apart in the country cottage, with the freedom to explore his own thoughts and pleasures in the surrounding countryside, which despite its bigoted residents is a beautiful spot.

    And in the end, it is not David who shocks his 60-year-old father, but the father who amazes the somewhat doubtful son.

 

Los Angeles, November 23, 2025

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (November 2025).

Jean Renoir | La Chienne / 1931, US 1976

by the neck

by Douglas Messerli

 

Jean Renoir (screenwriter, based on the novel by Georges de la Fouchardière, and director) La Chienne / 1931, US 1976

 

Poor dimwitted Maurice Legard (Michel Simon), who has worked many years as a bookkeeper in a hosiery company. Legrand is a slow thinker, who seldom gets a joke, is henpecked by his disagreeable wife, and is seen as an utter fool by his fellow employees. Instead of joining his male compatriots after dinner on a night on the town, Legrand obediently returns home—but still gets into trouble when he comes across a streetwalker, Lulu Pelletier (Janie Marèse) and her abusive pimp, Dédé Jauguin (Georges Flamant) who appears to be beating her as Legrand passes. Rushing to her defense, Legrand strikes Dédé, accompanies Lulu to her apartment, and falls madly in love.

     Returning home, he is again berated by his wife and ordered to “get rid” of his paintings, the only true joy he has left. What’s a man to do? Believing that Lulu is a nice girl, he puts her up in a small apartment, buys furniture on the installment, and covers her walls with his fanciful art.

     The worst of it is that Lulu still loves Dédé, and the two of them plot to get even more money out of Legrand, eventually selling Legrand’s paintings to a wealthy art dealer for vast sums.

     Renoir’s beautifully filmed melodrama plays out somewhat like a romantic opera, with Legrand mooning over Lulu, as the girl, refusing him even sex, tries to hold on to her despicable lover Dédé, who pockets most of the cash while offering as little affection as possible to the woman behind his increasing wealth.

  Fortunately, the director also adds in a great many comic moments—a scene in which Madame Legrand is seen reading the novel on which this movie is based; the sudden reappearance of her presumed-dead former husband, who photographic image dominates the Legrand apartment; and Legrand’s attempt to take advantage of the situation to get out of his loveless marriage, are just a few of the film’s humorous high points.

     Yet we know this work must end on a tragic note, particularly when Legrand eventually discovers—as the narrative requires—the treachery of Lulu and her lover. But even here Renoir is careful not to let the melodrama get out of hand, and shows us Lulu after her throat has been slit, with Legrand beside her, in shock over his act. A small group of street performers gather with a crowd outside her apartment, obscuring Legrand’s departure.

     Soon after, Dédé, loud and ostentatious as always, drives up in the new car he has bought with the sale of Legrand’s paintings, demanding that the crowd move out of the way, thus alerting them all of his presence. He rushes in to his Lulu without even speaking to the concierge, who intended to ask him to bring Lulu her mail. When she later discovers the body, soon after he leaves, she can only presume that Dédé is the murderer; and so the court declares, sending him to his death.

    Again, poor Legrand, destroyed by his guilt and with nowhere else to go, becomes a tramp, accidentally meeting up again with his wife’s former husband, who has also moved to the streets. By the end of this film, Simon is already dressed for his very next role, that of Boudu in Boudu Saved from Drowning.

     La Chienne was only Renoir’s second sound feature, but already he demonstrates the nuance and attention to detail that all of his great films reveal. Unlike other European directors, Renoir filmed the dialogue live, bringing with it all the ambient sounds of bells, whistles, nearby singing, and Parisian street life. In the very first scene where Legrand and his colleagues are dining out, we catch a glimpse out the window of the famed Moulin Rouge, telling us that we are in Montmartre. At another moment, while a young girl in a nearby apartment plays the piano, we watch Legrand shaving, as he takes a moment out to ogle the young player, hinting at the connection between desire and a stroke in the neck, reiterated in another early scene in which the actor has his long fingers draped over Lulu’s shoulders, as if he were about to choke his would-be lover.

    A brief puppet show, using the stock figures of good and evil, begins the film each of the three figures telling their own version of the tale we are about to see, a bit like Kurosawa’s later Rashomon, the Legrand puppet arguing that there is no moral to this tale. The film ends with another ironic image, the self-portrait which Legrand has painted being carted away by a wealthy collector as the artist reaches for a few coins tossed his way.

     To get realist performances out of his actors, Renoir reportedly encourage an offscreen romance between Marèse and Flamant, which infuriated Simon, who himself had fallen in love with the actress. After the film was completed, Flamant was involved in a car accident that killed his passenger, the Lulu of this film.

 

Los Angeles, January 6, 2017

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (January 2017).