Austere yet luminous monochrome palette, drab atmosphere of
dirty corridors & crumbling buildings, harrowing first-person focus, and static
shots observing characters’ fidgeting behavior in Czech film-makers Tomas
Weinreb and Petr Kazda’s directorial debut I, Olga Hepnarova (‘Ja, Olga
Hepnarova’, 2016) diffuses a memorable, haunting account of a individual’s
alienation and loneliness. The intimate, empathetic subjective approach to an
otherwise unsympathetic central character reminds us of the masterful works of
Robert Bresson, Martin Scorsese, etc. Czech Republic may have forgotten the
real-life tragedy depicted in this film, while the rest of the world may have
never heard about it, but the directing duo’s deliberately minimalist approach
turns Olga Hepnarova’s deeds into one of the stark and very unique character
studies in recent times. Who is Olga Hepnarova? A woman scarred by parents’
indifference & abuse and society’s marginalization or bullying decided
to commit a complicated form of suicide (at the age of 22, on 10 July, 1973).
She drove her company’s truck into a calm crowd waiting for tram, killing eight innocent bystanders and injuring twenty. During the trial, she wished for a death sentence and was hanged in 12th
March, 1975. Olga goes down in Czech history as the last woman to receive
capital punishment.
Olga is an angry, nihilistic outsider, exhibiting psychotic
behavior like Travis Bickle in “Taxi Driver”. But, unlike Scorsese’s masterpiece,
the viewpoint here is very narrow, never taking an expansive look at the
society that Olga feels has wronged her. Through enigmatic, contemplative,
interlinked vignettes, the director puts us in closer proximity to the
character. The use of Bressonian film-form portrays how Olga’s loveless, lonely
life provoked her to unchain the inner demons. Director Weinreb & Kazda doesn't waver from the fact that what she did was unforgivable and impossible to
justify. At the same time, they don’t cast out the 22 year old girl’s action as
simply an act of a monster. The script was based on Roman Cilek’s highly factual
account of Olga’s life and crimes. The directors don’t take the traditional, cause
& effect path. What they are after isn’t to convey specific information
about the case or to weave the particular social conditions of the period. For
the majority of narrative, only the strong emotions felt by Olga pervades
through the frames. From a sociopolitical perspective, we can see it as the
representation of angst-ridden, oppressive period after Prague Spring (of
1968). But, the lack of specificity makes Olga’s problem more universal. It
allows us to relate with her psychological issues and outcast status from a
personal perspective.
The film opens from Olga’s (Michalina Olszanska) troubled,
teenage phase of life when she tried to commit suicide. Her taciturn, doctor
mother (Klara Meliskova) says, “To commit suicide you need a strong will,
something you certainly don’t have”. One silent, static shot of Olga and her
mother sitting side by side conveys how the daughter has derived her mother’s
distanced looks, curt response and chain-smoking habits. Olga’s acute, introspective examination of her own inner torment plus the harsh treatment in the
hands of peers, escalates the existential angst. In the tween years, Olga attempts for suicide, which lands her in a demoralizing mental asylum. Olga faces physical abuses in there (and
there’s a hint for sexual abuse). She describes herself as a ‘sexual cripple’,
a name the society has given for her homosexuality. In the later years, her pursuit for lesbian
relationship only brings more rejection and frustration. The inability to
embrace her sexuality (and the ensuing feeling that she might be a weirdo)
clearly adds to the woes of existence. After the treatment, she lives alone in
the family’s hut. She works as a delivery truck driver and the little quirks
& strange looks alienates her from them too. Olga’s murkily defined
friendship with heavy-drinker Miroslav seems to be another odd element. In the end,
the social ostracism gives the push for Olga to declare: “I, Olga Hepnarova, the victim of your
bestiality, sentence you to death.”
In a literal and metaphorical space, Olga Hepnarova feels she is dwarfed, neglected, and pushed to the fringes by peers |
The undeniably great performance of Polish actress Michalina
Olszanska and directors Weinreb and Kazda’s meticulously constructed atmosphere
of isolation are the primary reasons to watch this powerful, art-house drama.
Michalina is considered as go-to Eastern European actress of her generation.
While she had many exceptional minor roles, she is barely-off the camera in
this breakthrough performance as Olga (Michalina pursued this role and served
as co-producer). Olga is the kind of edgy character whose complex psychology
demands an actor with a nuanced technique to underplay. Michalina brilliantly
captures her character’s frustrated physicality and emotional nature using
minimal movements. The slight narrowing of eyes, modulation in mouth muscles, awkward shuffling, and the unpolished vulnerability, emanating from
chain-smoking habit subtly reveals her wounded psyche. The little transitional
emotions she shows in the frank, intimate sex scenes seems to be an focused
attempt to capture the depth of Olga’s feelings. The intense homosexual
encounters, where she exhibits both masculine and feminine traits (moves
between aggression and timidity), plays a key role in her psychological
indisposition. The inability to find love through the sexual encounters makes
Olga to proclaim herself as ‘sexual cripple’, who becomes unsure about her own
psychological inclinations.
Directors Kazda, Weinreb and their DoP Adam Sikora’s
impeccable visualization shows a clear talent. They try to retain authenticity,
more in terms of emotions than facts. The reiteration of facts could have only
pointed fingers. But, the focus on emotions takes us closer to the loveless,
isolated atmosphere. Weinreb and Kazda imbue intensity to the narrative just
through Olga’s looks which alternates from piercing stare and diffident gaze. The audience’s curiosity about Olga
Hepnarova’s looks are addressed in one sequence when a man asks “Why you always
look angry”, to which she responds, “I always look that way”. The close-up
shots of Olga staring at something within the frame or at us add to the
unsettling nature of her downfall. The lack of clear narrative path and
fragmented scenes may disorientate viewers. The central theme is how the
individual’s dissolution of emotional and sexual life provoked to commit a
gruesome crime. But, the directors never keenly focus on the ‘cause’. The past
is only intimated (through few words) and the feelings of alienation are
expressed by trapping our attention to the character within the frame. In one
scene, the camera looks at the mirror reflection of Olga masturbating while
lying on the bed. Her head is truncated in the frame, indicating that it is act
to eradicate the loneliness than an act to seek pleasure. Such is the potent
approach used by the directors to depict the character’s ambivalent behavior.
But, since this is a film about a mass murderer, the
narrative after the grievous act jettisons the subjective approach. Director
Weinreb stated in an interview, “We tried to find a balance, both in terms of
our perspective and the facts we knew. There was a lot we didn't know about
Olga, it's impossible to know everything. For us her crime will always have the
subtext of something irrational”. While it seems to be a sensible approach,
this last 25 minutes doesn’t give the profound dramatic depth we expect. The
court-room scenes become a very clinical study of the subject as it struggles
to find a wider meaning for the framework. However, the film ends with couple
of chilling, powerful shots. The final shot of Olga’s family calmly sitting
around the dining table once again provokes us to deeply reflect on the girl’s
marginalization and crimes. We can’t stop relating the connection between the
placid, in-communicative atmosphere and an individual’s unnerving thoughts
& fantasies. It is the one of many shots that powerfully instills a
contemporary relevance to the death-wish of a past generation’s Prague
woman.
I, Olga Hepnarova (100 minutes) is a solidly crafted character
study of Czech mass murderer. Its ‘show-and-suggest’ approach and the mesmerizing central performance will definitely engross art-house movie-lovers.
About Author -
Arun Kumar is an ardent cinephile, who finds solace by exploring and learning from the unique works of the cinematic art. He believes in the shared-dream experience of cinema and tries to share those thoughts in the best possible way. He blogs at Passion for Movies and 'Creofire'.
Readers, please feel free to share your views/opinions in the comment box below. As always your feedback is highly appreciated!
I, Olga Hepnarova (2016) Trailer (YouTube)
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