
It is the summer of 1947, roughly six to eight months before the Communist coup. Though undeniably from peasant stock, Baram approaches kulak status. His isolated farm has always provided for his family well enough, but it unfortunately makes a perfect hiding place for the Ukrainian Bender Gang. With his wife and children held hostage, Baram must kidnap the village doctor to tend to their wounded leader. Definitely the strong taciturn type, Baram reluctantly acquiesces to their many demands to protect his family, but his young son’s unspoken rebukes are unmistakable.
Written by Jiri Krizan, a dissident who would eventually become a leading advisor to Vaclav Havel, Summer is largely thought to be anti-anti-Communist in name only, with the marauding Ukrainians serving as proxies for the Soviet Army of 1968. Yet, despite the resonance of their invasion of home and hearth, the film is strangely emotionally distant. In a way, the eerie soundtrack by longtime Vláčil collaborator Zdeněk Liška works too well, creating an unsettling vibe that emphasizes the film’s cold, brutal exterior, while keeping its quiet protagonist at arm’s length.
Though it might be difficult to draw a bead on Juraj Kukkura’s Baram, at least he has an appropriately manly presence. Frankly, Gustáv Valach is most successful at creating a fully dimensional flesh and blood character as the fundamentally decent but tired provincial doctor. As for the Benders,

Summer is fascinating film for what it represents, both for Vláčil’s career and Czech cinema during the post-Prague Spring era. However, it needs to be appreciated within that larger context. Currently not available on DVD in America, it screens tomorrow (2/4) and next Wednesday (2/9) as the FSLC’s Vláčil retrospective continues at the Walter Reade Theater.