Let's be realistic.

Good movie, but best of all time? Hardly . . .

Not sure how, but this is easily one of the best movies all summer. Multiple levels of funny, never takes itself seriously, super colorful, and creative.

An old-fashioned movie made with new-fashioned finesse.

This is damned peculiar... I've recently rediscovered the excellent macabre work of Mr.Jan Svankmajer, an artiste of twisted, marvellous dark surreality to rival the Brothers Quay themselves. His style is somewhat similar to theirs, only without a conscience! Unlike the fantastical Quays, I would definitely describe a lot of his animations as more on the 'creepy' side. I haven't seen that great a number of his short films as yet, but I'd say this is probably going to be my favourite one. I can't imagine I'll be seeing anything that'll click with me as intensely as this. Would that I could only have half as much fun with every short film's attempts at the ghastly and unnatural that I've seen.. The frightfully potent stylistic surrealness of this brilliant short simply does not compute and feels fundamentally incorrect, and in a way that's none too easy to put into words. A vision of which the imagery belongs more in the realm of hazy dark fantasy than any kind of conventional reality, it's just way too inscrutable for mere paltry words to encompass, too impossible to place. It really does defy any descriptions... There's no sense of balance, and a sense of(now familiar) wrongness, that for whatever reason sits so well with me. It's like looking at a crazed artist's nightmare come to life, or an expression that's been pulled and twisted through a thick shroud of unearthly surrealness until it somehow becomes something to me, dreamlike, and for what it is, flawless. I find the blunt starkness and sheer lunacy of it oddly liberating and hypnotic. I could not help but be filled with wonder at the originality and hauntingly freaky style of it. ::: The sights in this are relatively Spartan and simple, but they're the kind that compels the viewer to try in vain to reach one definite answer as to what it all could possibly mean, but in my opinion that is not what mysterious and ethereal art such as this is all about. The unimaginative will probably just dismiss it outright as an amusing but meaningless collection of random kooky gags created by the repose of an active mind. But there's always a little more to feel and dwell upon, lurking in the symbology and portents. There's no dialogue, just the eccentric actions accompanied by ominous and stirring music as the rather cute young fellow embarks upon his misadventure in the oddball house of pain! I assume he died in some way at the end when his name was added to 'the list' of victims... I hope when the coroner's report came back in the cause of death was listed as "Art!" I personally found the whole thing to be more darkly absurd and comedic than anything frightening. Recommended if you love the awesome and unusual.

Man, I relate to this film full-heartedly. Recent struggles with unemployment and the lack of ability to do things like secure foodstuffs I would like and keep my clothes and furniture in good condition makes me look past this general surrealist take on the Tantalus story and feel closely connected to the feel of the thing, where the man just wants to relax and eat and is met by frustration and annoyance the entire way.The narrative is kept close and inexplicable, as it should be--a man is thrown in a flat and locked inside. He proceeds to try to live in it as best he can, but everything he does is met with surrealist twist--the faucet sends rocks (twist on Svankmajer's own earlier "A Game of Stones"), the foodstuff is always just out of reach or accessibility (the moment when he tries to drink a beer is exactly like dreams), his furniture is unreliable and at one point the apartment itself keeps grabbing him by the sleeves until he's all but lost his clothes.The visitor thing, that is out of nowhere. Not to say that it doesn't fit, because we're in surrealist land, everything fits. But it was a strange and almost homoerotic change of pace from the rest (which is mostly intended, as the rest is shot in fast motion and the visitor is shot in slow motion), and mostly channeled a way to wrap up the film in something other than total self-destruction of our hero. Methinks Svankmajer thought, correctly, that such an ending would be too banal. I'm glad his instincts worked to a much more compelling, albeit slightly off-beat, ending.--PolarisDiB

I would tend to disagree with the previous statement that this movie was just an exercise in creativity without a real point. I found it to be deeply symbolic of the pressure Eastern Europe was under to follow rules in a world that did not follow the rules itself. The struggle of Joseph (his name is revealed when he writes it at the end) is both comic and easy to sympathize with, and in that it reminded me faintly of Charlie Chaplin's films. While it is extremely enjoyable to view superficially, delving just a little deeper is incredibly rewarding.Joseph keeps on expecting for the room in which he finds himself trapped to give him some small bit of normalcy, and it keeps betraying him. His hopefulness is almost pitiful, but he's all the more likable for not giving up. When his hand gets stuck in the wall, he digs it out. He does not succeed at escape, however, because he is too preoccupied with following a set of rules that do nothing to help him in his plight. He can't eat his meal because, unlike the dog that comes out of the wardrobe, he is too civilized to do what needs to be done, and he quietly accepts the axe from the man with the chicken (...that sounds utterly ridiculous out of context, doesn't it?) and waits until he is left alone once more before attacking the door rather than following the man out before he can shut the door. What he finds behind the door, however, is a wall covered with the names of people who have been in the same room and faced the same problems--this is not a single man's struggle, but one faced by a multitude, which again ties back to it being about Eastern Europe rather than a single, arbitrary person.

Svankmajer's first monochrome film, "The Flat" is about this late 1960's Czech everyman who has been literally flung into this dingy, primitive apartment. There he quickly discovers that reality does not work as it should; the man attempts to light a wood-fired stove, but water comes out, dousing the match; for no reason, the bare lightbulb begins swinging and lengthening it's cord, so it can bash a small hole in a brick wall, whereupon the light retracts into the ceiling. In the middle of the room there is a table with a meal (a boiled egg in a holder, soup, a tankard of beer, and a plateful of things that look like linked sausages.) The man sits down to eat, only to have the beer become a tiny doll's stein when he drinks it, then reverting to the (now-empty) tankard when he puts it down. He can't drink the soup, because suddenly the spoon has holes. He tries to break the egg, only to have it break the holder and fall through the table onto his foot, a painful experiance. The "sausages" are also inedible; they bend the fork prongs. The man then attempts to sleep in a bed, but it disintigrates into a large pile of sawdust. In the end, a man walks into the room in slow motion, holding a chicken and an axe. The protagonist takes the axe as the man glides back out through a second door. The door has no handle, so the everyman hacks it to pieces, only to find that it covers a wall. The wall is covered with names; the man adds his with a pencil.I went to the trouble of recounting most of the film to make a point, that this is an allegory of the secret police interrogations that went on after the Soviets reinvaded Czechoslovakia during the "Prague Spring" of 1968. In such an interrogation, the subject would be more and more disoriented by placing the person in a cell with no windows where the light (from a bare bulb) was eternally on, along with nonsensical questioning, irregular meal times, and bizarre arbitrary behavior by guards and interrogators. At the end of whatever time it took to break the prisoner, he/she would be forced to sign a confession, either written by the prisoner or concocted by the secret police. I suspect that the only reason that "Byt" survived was due to the literal-mindedness of Czech censors and the secret police.