This Czech Stalinist comedy is "famous", although a better term for it would be "notorious". The inane content is being rescued -- apparently successfully, in the eyes of many viewers, especially back in its own era -- by some of the best Czech actors of the 1950s, notably the leading star Jaroslav Marvan. Marvan is a wonderful actor, a Czech Spencer Tracy if you will, so his presence radiates throughout _Anděl on Holiday_, making the heavy-handed Communist propaganda watchable, even if not enjoyable or palatable.
From the dramatic point of view, this is film-making at its worst; it has nothing to do with reality, with genuine human beings. Instead, we are being fed an array of cardboard characters meant to promote Communist ideas of the government of those days -- pretty recent government, because Communists only usurped power in Czechoslovakia in 1948, and this movie came out in 1952: a nightmare era of the earliest and most brutal Stalinism in post-World War II Czechoslovakia. Looking at what's going on in the movie, one needs to ask, "Where did all the idealism go to? Where did it get lost?" The proper answer to that, of course, is that it always was *fake* idealism; the only way Communists could even *get* to power, with questionable means, was by mercilessly suppressing freedom for countless citizens. It's horrible to think that it took another 37 years (!) after this movie was made, for that morally corrupt form of government to collapse in Czechoslovakia.
What is shown in _Anděl on Holiday_, has nothing to do with reality: we see imaginary conflicts, and their imaginary resolutions (see the indescribably bogus "marital crisis" sub-plot). The "plot", if there is any, is so trite as to defy belief. The pseudo-psychology of the various characters couldn't be more childish and puerile; the almost middle-aged Slovak vacation-maker behaves like a 12-year-old brat throughout, in assailing the almost teenage lady bus driver. We get a handful of daft happy endings. We get to see submissive ladies. Some of the lines of dialogue are so unrealistic and unnatural, mouthing the Communist Party propaganda, that even the actors themselves seem as if uncomfortable in uttering the platitudes; those are the moments when the actors sometimes appear as if frozen in nearly operatic poses, or jerkingly, unnaturally moving about in delivering the lines (such as, "There are no unemployed people in this country anymore!").
It's nauseating to watch the cattle mentality at display and celebrated here; "collectivism" is extolled as the highest human virtue; individualism is despicable, although not mentioned by name; in any case, no individualism would be tolerated or permitted -- except as harmless quirks in Marvan's leading character, and even he seems to repent towards the end. Absolutely *everyone* joins in helping to build a kindergarten during their holiday time -- one almost feels that the secret police would arrest anyone on the spot who would refuse to help in that laudable "collective" effort.
Pretty much every character in the movie is a "working class hero"; no intellectuals are desired, or really needed, in "the new society"; the one intellectual among them, a young female teacher, is only there to take care of the working class children, thus further hammering in the message that the intellectuals' only excuse for existence is to serve the working class, who are the mainstays of the "new society".
Some characters are so unrealistic they not only border, but exceed the line of the ridiculous; the leader among them, an always gray-clad, but "attractive", robotic female comrade, the "cultural delegate" taking care of everyone in the hotel; she always speaks in an ecstatic tone of voice, as if she kept saying, "Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!" -- regardless of the actual content of her utterances. Another particularly ridiculous character is one of a compulsive worker who can't stop fixing broken things even while on holiday; that *might* be endearing, except that you constantly feel the heavy hand of ideology-driven propaganda from behind the artificial character. The movie is frequently offensive to modern sensibilities in terms of decent conduct among people; such as the Communist "singular-you" ("ty", not "vy") term of address among people who don't even know each other; particularly offensive whenever a youngish woman (such as the gray-clad lady robot) addresses an older man like Anděl. Then the entire group at the hotel starts reminding you of a *sect* more than anything else. The propaganda is not restricted to the asinine content of dialogues; the camera makes sure to frequently capture the Soviet flag or Joseph Stalin's portrait hanging on the wall, strategically and prominently placed; along with banners of the "Let's Learn Russian!" variety.
What are the redeeming qualities of _Anděl on Holiday_, if any? There obviously aren't *enough* of them to truly redeem the movie and earn it anything higher than an F, or a 1-star rating. But, as mentioned, the movie features some great Czech actors of the time; the score is majestic (if you ignore the propaganda-laden lyrics); particularly affecting is a cello & piano "live" rendition of Largo from Dvořák's "New World Symphony". Because the Communist government wanted to make this movie as resplendent as humanly possible, they invested in spectacular colour camera-work in making this comedy -- something unusual for the 1950s in Czechoslovakia; and, indeed, the visual result is admirable enough, giving you a fantastic, first-hand look at the "sights and sounds" of the era, especially the awful Stalinist fashion of the day, particularly ladies' pointedly "modest", demure fashion; especially risible are the ladies' bathing suits, frequently showcasing not-so-slim rear parts and figures. There are also a few truly witty repartees, particularly between Marvan and his main antagonist, an elderly lady and fellow hotel guest.
Typologically, _Anděl on Holiday_ belongs to the same class as Leni Riefenstahl's Hitler-adulating propaganda movies, but does not begin to approach their esthetic level.
From the dramatic point of view, this is film-making at its worst; it has nothing to do with reality, with genuine human beings. Instead, we are being fed an array of cardboard characters meant to promote Communist ideas of the government of those days -- pretty recent government, because Communists only usurped power in Czechoslovakia in 1948, and this movie came out in 1952: a nightmare era of the earliest and most brutal Stalinism in post-World War II Czechoslovakia. Looking at what's going on in the movie, one needs to ask, "Where did all the idealism go to? Where did it get lost?" The proper answer to that, of course, is that it always was *fake* idealism; the only way Communists could even *get* to power, with questionable means, was by mercilessly suppressing freedom for countless citizens. It's horrible to think that it took another 37 years (!) after this movie was made, for that morally corrupt form of government to collapse in Czechoslovakia.
What is shown in _Anděl on Holiday_, has nothing to do with reality: we see imaginary conflicts, and their imaginary resolutions (see the indescribably bogus "marital crisis" sub-plot). The "plot", if there is any, is so trite as to defy belief. The pseudo-psychology of the various characters couldn't be more childish and puerile; the almost middle-aged Slovak vacation-maker behaves like a 12-year-old brat throughout, in assailing the almost teenage lady bus driver. We get a handful of daft happy endings. We get to see submissive ladies. Some of the lines of dialogue are so unrealistic and unnatural, mouthing the Communist Party propaganda, that even the actors themselves seem as if uncomfortable in uttering the platitudes; those are the moments when the actors sometimes appear as if frozen in nearly operatic poses, or jerkingly, unnaturally moving about in delivering the lines (such as, "There are no unemployed people in this country anymore!").
It's nauseating to watch the cattle mentality at display and celebrated here; "collectivism" is extolled as the highest human virtue; individualism is despicable, although not mentioned by name; in any case, no individualism would be tolerated or permitted -- except as harmless quirks in Marvan's leading character, and even he seems to repent towards the end. Absolutely *everyone* joins in helping to build a kindergarten during their holiday time -- one almost feels that the secret police would arrest anyone on the spot who would refuse to help in that laudable "collective" effort.
Pretty much every character in the movie is a "working class hero"; no intellectuals are desired, or really needed, in "the new society"; the one intellectual among them, a young female teacher, is only there to take care of the working class children, thus further hammering in the message that the intellectuals' only excuse for existence is to serve the working class, who are the mainstays of the "new society".
Some characters are so unrealistic they not only border, but exceed the line of the ridiculous; the leader among them, an always gray-clad, but "attractive", robotic female comrade, the "cultural delegate" taking care of everyone in the hotel; she always speaks in an ecstatic tone of voice, as if she kept saying, "Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!" -- regardless of the actual content of her utterances. Another particularly ridiculous character is one of a compulsive worker who can't stop fixing broken things even while on holiday; that *might* be endearing, except that you constantly feel the heavy hand of ideology-driven propaganda from behind the artificial character. The movie is frequently offensive to modern sensibilities in terms of decent conduct among people; such as the Communist "singular-you" ("ty", not "vy") term of address among people who don't even know each other; particularly offensive whenever a youngish woman (such as the gray-clad lady robot) addresses an older man like Anděl. Then the entire group at the hotel starts reminding you of a *sect* more than anything else. The propaganda is not restricted to the asinine content of dialogues; the camera makes sure to frequently capture the Soviet flag or Joseph Stalin's portrait hanging on the wall, strategically and prominently placed; along with banners of the "Let's Learn Russian!" variety.
What are the redeeming qualities of _Anděl on Holiday_, if any? There obviously aren't *enough* of them to truly redeem the movie and earn it anything higher than an F, or a 1-star rating. But, as mentioned, the movie features some great Czech actors of the time; the score is majestic (if you ignore the propaganda-laden lyrics); particularly affecting is a cello & piano "live" rendition of Largo from Dvořák's "New World Symphony". Because the Communist government wanted to make this movie as resplendent as humanly possible, they invested in spectacular colour camera-work in making this comedy -- something unusual for the 1950s in Czechoslovakia; and, indeed, the visual result is admirable enough, giving you a fantastic, first-hand look at the "sights and sounds" of the era, especially the awful Stalinist fashion of the day, particularly ladies' pointedly "modest", demure fashion; especially risible are the ladies' bathing suits, frequently showcasing not-so-slim rear parts and figures. There are also a few truly witty repartees, particularly between Marvan and his main antagonist, an elderly lady and fellow hotel guest.
Typologically, _Anděl on Holiday_ belongs to the same class as Leni Riefenstahl's Hitler-adulating propaganda movies, but does not begin to approach their esthetic level.
