There's a simple, familiar but very warm story at the heart of "Kolya": A cynical middle-aged man finds himself saddled with a cute 5-year-old boy, and, warily at first, they soon grow to care for each other.
Thanks to a unique backdrop, a wonderfully written screenplay and sterling performances from an excellent cast, "Kolya" soars above other, similar films and deserves to be seen by an audience beyond the usual art-house crowd.
"Kolya" is set during the 1989 Velvet Revolution in then-Czechoslovakia, as Communist rule was winding down but Russian occupation was still felt by the Czech populace. The story centers around a down-and-out, aging musician named Frantisek Louka.
A first-rate cellist and a somewhat childish cad, Louka has been reduced from playing in the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra to performing at funerals. And his lifestyle reflects his sunken status in life — he has a mountain of debts and runs from bus to bus, trying desperately to get to his performance venues on time. (He also works part-time restoring gold-leaf paint on headstones in the local cemetery.)
A lifelong bachelor, Louka enjoys his status as a charming womanizer who won't commit. But when a friend suggests he enter into a marriage of convenience, for which he will be handsomely paid, Louka reluctantly agrees — just to get out of debt and buy a car.
Initially, all goes well. Even when his young wife, a Russian woman, runs off to Germany with her boyfriend, her young son Kolya is left with his grandmother. But when the grandmother falls ill, Louka finds himself the custodial parent.
In addition to Louka's lack of parenting skills, there is a language barrier — Louka speaks only Czech and Kolya speaks only Russian. So, it takes awhile for the two to warm up to each other. But they do, and the film concentrates primarily on Louka's transformation.
Then, just as they are getting used to their father-son relationship, social services (concerned about the boy's care) and local police (wondering about Louka's hasty marriage) conspire to separate them.
The chemistry between Louka and Kolya — brilliantly played by Zdenek Sverak and young Andrej Chalimon — is quite endearing. And director Jan Sverak (the star's son) has crafted the film in a sweet, gentle but politically aware manner, so that it never falls into sentimental traps. (Supporting roles are also handled well, especially Libuse Safrankova as Louka's sometime girlfriend.)
This is the first of Czech director Sverak's features to receive wide distribution in the United States, though he has had three earlier successful films in his homeland. (And in addition to tackling the lead role, his father also wrote the screenplay.)
Here's hoping the success of this film helps bring some of Sverak's other work over.
"Kolya" is rated PG-13 for some profanity, vulgarity, sex and brief partial nudity.