I'm puzzled why Hollywood never attempted a remake of Kolya. While I was watching it I kept imagining Billy Bob Thornton in the role of Louka, the lead character of the film. In fact, Zdenek Sverák, the actor who plays Louka, actually resembles slightly the Hollywood actor.
All kidding aside, Kolya is actually pleasant viewing, the kind of sentimental middle-of-the-road, life-affirming fare that Hollywood seems to embrace when it comes time to pick out the Best Foreign Language Film nominees (See France's The Choir and Joyeux Noel as examples). This is not to denigrate its modest virtues, but really, this is the kind of film your grandmother would love.
Kolya is about a 55-year old confirmed bachelor who despite his age, can still score hot chicks half his age that look like they came from the pages of Playboy Czech Republic edition (probably not surprising since Sverák also wrote the screenplay of the movie). Denied a place in the national philharmonic orchestra for not being politically correct enough, he makes ends meet with a variety of odd jobs, including playing for cremations and restoring headstones. Still, Louka is heavily in debt, he needs a car and his mother is nagging him for money to repair the family house.
A gravedigger friend of his offers him the chance to make some serious money by entering into an arranged marriage with a Russian woman who wants to stay in Czechoslovakia longer. But the deal goes wrong when the "wife" defects to West Germany, leaving him in charge of little Kolya (played by cute but not too cute Andrei Chalimon), a kid he can't even talk to since he's not conversant in Russian.
One of the most notable things about this film is its subtlety. Unlike a Hollywood movie, it does not rely on too-obvious characterizations to show the transformation in Louka. In fact, Louka does not have that far to go in his character arc from commitment-phobic bachelor to potential family man material; he's not a mean man, he simply does not want the responsibility of taking care of a child, in the same way that he has avoided getting married to avoid commitment.
This subtlety extends to the ending, which follows its premise to its logical end. I won't tell you what happens, but you can probably figure it out. There are no big surprises at the end. But the filmmakers also allow for a happy ending for Louka, in a brief shot that you may miss if you blink.
My irreverence toward Kolya does not mean that I didn't like the film. It's pleasant enough viewing, not great but not bad either. Its probably most notable for the pitfalls it avoids, rather than what it actually achieves. Perhaps it's good that the film was never remade by Hollywood after all.
All kidding aside, Kolya is actually pleasant viewing, the kind of sentimental middle-of-the-road, life-affirming fare that Hollywood seems to embrace when it comes time to pick out the Best Foreign Language Film nominees (See France's The Choir and Joyeux Noel as examples). This is not to denigrate its modest virtues, but really, this is the kind of film your grandmother would love.
Kolya is about a 55-year old confirmed bachelor who despite his age, can still score hot chicks half his age that look like they came from the pages of Playboy Czech Republic edition (probably not surprising since Sverák also wrote the screenplay of the movie). Denied a place in the national philharmonic orchestra for not being politically correct enough, he makes ends meet with a variety of odd jobs, including playing for cremations and restoring headstones. Still, Louka is heavily in debt, he needs a car and his mother is nagging him for money to repair the family house.
A gravedigger friend of his offers him the chance to make some serious money by entering into an arranged marriage with a Russian woman who wants to stay in Czechoslovakia longer. But the deal goes wrong when the "wife" defects to West Germany, leaving him in charge of little Kolya (played by cute but not too cute Andrei Chalimon), a kid he can't even talk to since he's not conversant in Russian.
One of the most notable things about this film is its subtlety. Unlike a Hollywood movie, it does not rely on too-obvious characterizations to show the transformation in Louka. In fact, Louka does not have that far to go in his character arc from commitment-phobic bachelor to potential family man material; he's not a mean man, he simply does not want the responsibility of taking care of a child, in the same way that he has avoided getting married to avoid commitment.
This subtlety extends to the ending, which follows its premise to its logical end. I won't tell you what happens, but you can probably figure it out. There are no big surprises at the end. But the filmmakers also allow for a happy ending for Louka, in a brief shot that you may miss if you blink.
My irreverence toward Kolya does not mean that I didn't like the film. It's pleasant enough viewing, not great but not bad either. Its probably most notable for the pitfalls it avoids, rather than what it actually achieves. Perhaps it's good that the film was never remade by Hollywood after all.
