Všiváci

A dramaturgically catastrophic macho melodrama (with elements of comedy, thriller, softcore porn, war movie, caper flick and psychological drama). It’s not as if the subject matter would make it difficult to construct a coherent story. That is made entirely impossible by the selection and arrangement of information. Based on the large number of “unexpected” revelations in the final act, the viewer’s experience should consist in enjoyment from how everything fits together, not in the numerous ambiguities (Lousy Bastards by no means exhibits the hallmarks of an art film). However, the curt, often downright imbecilic behaviour of the protagonist (Mádl’s idiot behaves the most humanely in the end) and the high concentration of unlikely coincidences do not retrospectively gain any meaning as new information is revealed. Similarly, we ultimately don’t learn the most important things, which are usually good to know from the beginning of a film – e.g. what the characters care about and what their motivations and goals are – so that it’s not just episodic rambling. It’s not clear whether this was supposed to be a story of revenge (but why is it carried out so belatedly – and on a rabbit?), a story depicting the psychological instability of returning soldiers (otherwise, what purpose is the Afghan storyline supposed to serve?), or a picture of the lives of young people in today’s Prague (what other purpose do the events tied exclusively to Voříšková, Mádl and Hádek serve?). Though something is always happening in the film thanks to the psychopathy of most of its characters, the individual events are only tossed together rather than being woven into a logically cohesive whole. Unless all of the action takes place in an alternate universe where – SPOILER ALERT – it is normal to try to shoot your partner before carrying out a planned heist, where a woman suspects she is pregnant a few hours after having intercourse (and if more time has passed between said intercourse and the telephone call with Langmajer, the film gives us no reason to think so), where you try to beat your own brother to death after he sleeps with a woman whom he didn’t know was your girlfriend (and who is thus rather more to blame for being unfaithful), where rain washes away all that is bad and makes two adversaries forget all previous wrongs. The muddled structure and unjustified stylistic bombast (which can be understood as healthy exaggeration only during the Michael Bay-esque chase scene in the centre of Prague) only draw attention away from the banality of the story’s core, the dreadful overacting and the incredible conceptual perversity. The filmmakers’ complete lack of good judgment is most apparent in the macho presentation of men as killing machines and sex machines. The younger women are endlessly horny eye candy, offering their bodies to practically anyone at any time without hesitation; the sole older woman talks only about how she is preparing to die. Perhaps it’s because I don’t watch many Czech films, but I haven’t seen anything this repulsively phallocentric in a long time. The biggest cinematic offence of the year so far. 5% (19.06.2014) (weniger) (mehr)