Karlovy Vary: A “Russian spa town” no more?

.

Karlovy Vary International Film Festival

VERDICT: Amid political turmoil in Europe and a push to overhaul Karlovy Vary’s identity for tourists, Russia plays a lesser festival role.

A few years back, the Russian language could be heard by festival visitors to Karlovy Vary throughout the streets and establishments of the Czech resort town. This has changed since 2020, and now there is a very noticeable pivot to German in addition to Czech and English, amid political turmoil in Europe and a push to remake the city’s identity.

“This used to be a spa centre focused on rich clients, mostly from Russia,” said Josef Dlohoš, director of the Information Centre Karlovy Vary, a tourism centre. Hotels and treatment centres depended on them for business — especially as they did not scrimp on paying for a wide range of facilities. “As Russians, they needed to have everything, 150 per cent,” he said.

Now, Russian tourists are all but banned from Karlovy Vary. During the Covid pandemic, after Russia’s Sputnik vaccine was not recognised as valid proof of immunity, their presence declined sharply. And when Putin’s regime launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the Czech government joined Finland, the Baltic states and Poland in restricting visas for Russians wanting to visit. Ukrainian refugees, on the other hand, have been welcomed.

“Russians would spend a huge amount of money here, and from this point of view it’s a pity, but from all other sides, and our history of 1968 [when troops led by the Soviet Union invaded Czechoslovakia], it’s good for the future if Karlovy Vary will not be a Russian town,” said Mr. Dlohoš.

The Karlovy Vary International Film Festival, the city’s most important cultural event, is now reckoning with its legacy of close links to the Soviet Union. It would alternate yearly with Moscow between 1959 and 1993, when it was the only A-list festival for socialist countries. Last year’s retitling of the East of the West competition to Proxima, with geographical origin no longer considered, is an effort to move with the times — and away from defining nations by their past grouping in a Bloc under the control of Russia.

The war in Ukraine was very present in this year’s programme, from Ukrainian director Roman Liubyi’s documentary Iron Butterflies (2023), about the 2014 shooting down of a passenger airliner over territory controlled by Russian separatist forces, to Finnish director Aki Kaurismaki’s Cannes hit Fallen Leaves (2023), a droll, Helsinki-set romance that has radio reports about the invasion as  ever-present background.

But there were no Russian films. Asked if this reflected an official stance, Karel Och, the festival’s artistic director, said: “As far as this year is concerned, we would not accept any Russian films supported by the state after the Russian invasion of Ukraine. The handful of independently made films with Russian participation did not make it into the selection.”

Last year, there was an outcry from Ukrainian filmmakers in an open letter when Captain Volkonogov Escaped (2021), which had Russian Ministry of Culture backing, was screened, despite it being a co-production with Estonia and France that is critical of the Stalinist terror and authoritarianism.

Ivan Shvedoff, an actor who was born in Saint Petersburg but has been living in the Czech Republic for decades and is well-known for playing Russians in Western productions, including agitator Alexei Kardakov in hit German television series Babylon Berlin, was in attendance, and was outspoken when asked about the absence of Russian cinema and tourists from Karlovy Vary.

“It is not the time for Russian film and its representatives to participate in international cultural forums. You can’t put people being bombed and people bombing their country in the same room and give them equal time to express their position,” said Mr. Shvedoff.

“This so-called Eastern bloc was so Russocentric. Ukraine, Estonia and so on have always been made to go behind the big brother, so that these countries and their languages would not be considered as cultures, and it’s not fair,” he said.

“Once Russia would pay all contributions for rebuilding Ukraine, apologise and go through a denazification process, including its cultural forms and the media, then I would be interested in what Russian culture would be. But it will take another 20 or 30 years,” said Shvedoff, adding: “Karlovy Vary developed with Russian money — but money’s not everything.”