Color, 1986, 56 mins. 29 secs.+
Directed by Jiří Barta
Deaf Crocodile (Blu-ray) (US RA HD), Kino Lorber (DVD) (US R1 NTSC)
Gradually working up a cult
reputation on the international animation scene since the late '70s, Czech filmmaker Jiří Bárta made his biggest splash
in 1986 with his striking, German Expressionist-inspired rendition of the macabre fairy tale The Pied Piper. Often compared to fellow countryman Jan Švankmajer due to its focus on mechanical processes and rampaging rodents, the film draws on elements from various versions of the familiar story but goes in an even darker direction than the '70s Jacques Demy film, dispensing with the entire idea of the town children being lured away in favor of something more in the vein of E.C. Comics.
Devoid of coherent dialogue, our story takes place in the medieval town of Hamelin where cosmic gears control the rising and setting of the sun. The population's greed and indulgence have led to a nasty rat infestation, and a mysterious piper with skeletal hands appears and demonstrates that he can lead the rodents away to extermination -- for a price. The town elders agree to pay his fee in gold, but of course the nastier side of human nature keeps rearing its head with one powerful jeweler in particular resorting to loathsome behavior towards a woman who has caught
the piper's attention. Then things get grisly.
Though it doesn't feature anything overtly graphic, this version of the tale is probably too nightmarish and cerebral
for young kids but will entrance animation fans of just about any other age. From the outset what really impresses here is the sense of scale with the angular characters often dwarfed by what seem to be massive, stylized sets, an illusion Barta and his fellow craftsmen went to great pains to achieve. Apart from film festival play, this film and much of Barta's other work was very difficult to see for the average viewer until a 2006 DVD release from Kino Lorber as part of its relationship at the time with Kimstim, Jiří Barta: Labyrinth of Darkness, which featured this film and eight additional shorts in okay standard def presentations.
In 2003, Deaf Crocodile added The Pied Piper to its impressive roster of European animated discoveries with a new restoration that presumably reflects the subdued, earthy color scheme and allows you to savor the details of the character sculpting and backgrounds more than ever before. The DTS-HD MA 2.0 mono audio sounds very good, and the film also comes with a commentary featuring label regular Irena Kovarova and critic Peter Hames who do an excellent job of contextualizing the film within the history of Czech animation, comparing it to other iterations of the source story, and covering the director's career in general. A lengthy and very genial interview with Barta (51m39s) finds him chatting with Deaf
Crocodile's Dennis Bartok (with Kovarova translating) about the development of the film including the initial conceptual challenges he had to surmount, the
local talent recruited for it, the mammoth nature of the production for the time, and its place in his overall body of work. The 1985 making-of "Chronicle of the Pied Piper (13m13s) features tons of great behind-the-scenes footage of the artists at work on the film, giving you an impressive sense of the extent of the model work, lighting, and backgrounds here as well as the extensive handwork required for the figures. Finally you the 1982 Barta short The Vanished World of Gloves (17m27s), a whimsical and wildly inventive leap through the 20th century using the evolution of film and a pair of stop-motion gloves traversing world history. It's also fully restored here and in much better quality than the earlier DVD.
In 2025, Deaf Crocodile revisited the Barta's film as a two-disc Blu-ray set with the second disc featuring all of the shorts from that prior DVD here in nice new restorations. These are all largely devoid of traditional plot and dialogue, but they make for quite the sensory experience as you get to see the artistry evolve over the course of about twelve years. 1978's Riddles for a Candy (8m13s), Barta's first short, takes place inside a magic book where a morphing creature takes on the form of an anteater and has to solve a string of visual riddles to acquire a piece of candy. In 1980's Disc Jockey (9m47s), music albums lead the charge as numerous circular objects create a kind of visual dance with plates, ashtrays, tables, and other objects. Similarly, 1981's The
Design (6m1s) takes place on a drafting table where a sprawling
apartment design takes shape before your eyes. Fans of folk horror will definitely get a kick out of 1983's A Ballad About Green Wood (10m39s), an ode to nature with animated firewood logs spending the seasons summoning and unleashing a creature with feathered wings before the cycle begins again. The real standout here for horror fans though is 1987's The Last Theft (20m58s), which uses a wild bleached-color technique for a spooky vignette in which a thief breaks into an apartment only to find himself at the mercy of a collection of supernatural adversaries. Finally in 1989's The Club of the Laid Off (25m14s), a collection of seemingly abandoned mannequins in various states of pop culture adornment come to life in a creepy imitation of daily human routines. The Vanished World of Gloves is carried over here as well to make marathon viewing easier, and you also get two substantial new video extras starting with a new Barta interview with Bartok and Kovarova (76m12s) speaking at length about his short film work including his first break into working as a director, the venues for his shorts, the various innovations he came up with along the way, and the ideas about society he wove into them including some obvious thoughts on state-sponsored living conditions. You also get a new visual essay, "Pushed to the Margins" (29m40s), a conversation by Kovarova and Hames edited by Ryan Verrill with a thorough tour through the short films using clips to show how the filmmaker's style changed over the years using the camera to push his cinematic language in new directions with each effort. As usual, the release is available as a standard edition or a limited 2,000 unit one featuring an exclusive slipcase and a lovely 60-page book featuring essays by Jonathan Owen, Walter Chaw, and Kovarova about the historical period covered by these films, their commentary on human behavior and social structures, and the tactile nature of the animation that gives them a fascination and charm that will never fade.
Reviewed on August 15, 2025