Outside of opera lovers, who will surely be an eager audience for Petr Vaclav’s Il Boemo, few know the story of the once-toasted Czech composer Josef Myslivecek known as “Il Boemo”, a contemporary and friend of Mozart’s. Though Mozart has now eclipsed all the musicians of his age, Myslivecek was even more celebrated in his day in the great opera houses and courts of Naples, Venice, Turin and Bologna, where his works were acclaimed by kings. Sumptuously recreating the late 18th century ambience of musicians, singers and their noble patrons with a lavishness and authenticity Visconti would have appreciated, the film sweeps the viewer into its quaint and lusty world.
All that’s missing is a strong narrative framework that might have turned this well-made biopic into a more cohesive and gripping drama. While no Amadeus (it also lacks the manic fun of Milos Forman’s visionary film), Il Boemo is nonetheless a classy contribution to the genre, dotted with memorable scenes that capture the age and its august personages. It brought a touch of old world glamour to the San Sebastian competition, and has been named as the official Oscar submission from the Czech Republic. Hopefully it will also play a part in bringing the composer out of undeserved obscurity,
Experienced director Vaclav has been wedded to Myslivecek’s music since his award-winning 2015 documentary Confession of the Vanquished, which followed a contemporary production of one of the composer’s operas. The same producer, Jan Macola, returns to lead the production of Il Boemo, four years in the making, which is likely to become the definitive film biography of the fascinating classical musician for a long time to come.
Played by actor Vojtech Dyk with warmth and intelligence, Myslivecek’s tragic fate is tipped off in the first scene. Poverty-stricken and wearing a flesh-colored mask to hide the ravages of syphilis on his face, he is forced to sell his last possessions before dying in Rome, alone, at the age of 43. He began life as the son of a miller from Prague, but left the family business to his twin brother to seek his fortune as a music composer, performer and teacher in Italy. In Venice, one of his married students falls in love with him and becomes his first patron, stealing money from her husband to rent him rooms in San Marco. But he is soon introduced to a libertine noblewoman (Elena Radonicich) who invites him to an orgy in a brief but pungent scene and introduces him to the right people to advance his career. The showdown between the two women involves a highly cinematic suicide attempt at La Fenice opera house.
A third strongly drawn aristo who enters Myslivecek’s young life is a bright, beautiful, music-savvy Neapolitan baroness (Lana Vlady) whose husband is so jealous and violent he has been known to kill a man for looking at her. (He also beats the poor woman.) Naturally our composer sees her as his soul mate and they become clandestine lovers.
Then there are the magnificent singers who starred in the growing number of productions of his operas. Though the orchestral music in the film was carefully researched and recorded live by Vaclav Luks with his ensemble Collegium 1704, the dazzling divas on stage are played by actresses who were dubbed by opera singers, including soloists like Philippe Jaroussky, Raffaella Milanesi, Emöke Baráth, Simona Šaturová, Krystian Adam and Juan Sancho. The illusion is perfect and the arias are breathtakingly performed.
Unfortunately, the narrative arc isn’t as impelling and one has the feeling of a picaresque novel that splices together a series of strange-to-outrageous stories. One of these is certainly Myslivecek’s first meeting with Mozart when he was a boy prodigy being taken around Europe’s capitals by his father Leopold. Wearing a powdered wig over a puffy, nerdish face, little Wolfgang takes a few bars from Myslivecek’s latest work and miraculously completes it inside a minute.
Another takeaway will be Myslivecek’s one-on-one backstage encounter with King Ferdinand at the Teatro San Carlo in Naples. Suddenly ordered to procure the ruler a chamber pot (conveniently on hand), the composer has to sustain a learned conversation while the king uses it in front of him.
Along with its gorgeous settings and the fine natural lighting of Spanish cinematographer Diego Romero Suarez Llanos, the film is notable for its striking characters. Myslivecek is played with a suitable air of romance and warm intelligence by Voytech Dyk. The outspoken women in the film add a startling note of modernity, from the tormented divas like Caterina Gabrielli (Barbara Ronchi from Paternostro) who sing the composer’s most difficult arias with their souls on fire, to libertine aristocrats and educated duchesses who dare to express themselves freely, whatever the consequences.
Director, screenplay: Petr Vaclav
Cast: Vojtech Dyk, Elena Radonicich, Barbara Ronchi, Lana Vlady
Producer: Jan Macola
Coproducers: Marco Alessi, Marek Urban, Libor Winkler, Magiclab, Daniel Bergmann, Jan Menclik
Cinematography: Diego Romero Suarez Llanos
Editing: Paolo Cottignola, Florent Vassault, Florent Mangeot
Production design: Irena Hradecka, Luca Servino
Costume design: Andrea Cavalletto
Music: Josef Myslivecek, conducted by Vaclav Luks and Collegium 1704
Sound: Daniel Nemec
Production companies: Mimesis Film (Czech Republic) in association with Czech Television, Dugong (Italy), Sentimentalfilm (Slovakia)
World Sales: Loco Films (France)
Venue: San Sebastian Film Festival Film Festival (Competition)
In Czech, German, Italian
141 minutes
