Kolya

Prague, 1988. Since being chucked out of the Czech Philharmonic, cellist Frantisek Louka (Sverák) has been reduced to playing at funerals. With the bills mounting, the middle-aged loner agrees to a marry a Russian woman in return for enough cash to pay his debts and buy a Trabant. The bogus bride, armed with her new Czech papers, exits to join a lover in West Germany, thus threatening to land Louka in trouble with the authorities, and lumbering him with her five-year-old son Kolya (Chalimon). With each film, Czech director Jan Sverák moves ever closer to the mainstream: the oddball sci-fi parody Accumulator 1 and the dark social insights of the road movie The Ride are here replaced by sentimental comedy-drama. The script (by the director's father and lead actor) is contrived, obvious and shallow, and benefits not a jot from being set during the decline of communism. That said, however, it is a polished affair, and thanks to Sverák Sr's subtle, quietly charismatic performance as the cynic softened by responsibility, it's not entirely without charm.