A stunning first feature from 1964, Jan Nemec's Diamonds of the Night offers an impressionistic evocation of two Czech youths on the run from the Nazis during the Second World War. The two minute tracking shot that opens the film shows the two protagonists escaping from captivity and scrambling up a hill to reach a dense forest as unseen guards attempt to shoot them. The film contains relentless reiterations of the trauma of being hunted interspersed with flashbacks and reveries going on inside the heads of the two youths. The editing links the pair's memories with their current plight through the use of counterpoint (shots of the two struggling up a rocky hill is contrasted with a memory of sledders going down a snowy hill) or echo (the rhythm of their escaping feet is rhymed with their two pairs of boots tramping on cobblestones in happier times).
What particularly impressed me was how well Nemec integrated his influences his into his own vision. There are traces of Resnais in the editing techniques, of Bresson in the use of non-professional actors and the closeups of their hands and of Bunuel's surrealism, all apparent without drawing attention to themselves as homages; though the reference to the ants in Un Chien Andalou is a little too obvious. Cinematographically impressive, the only technical flaw I could detect is the mediocre Foley work, but the power of the film undercuts such pettifoggery. Largely silent and only 67 minutes long, Diamonds of the Night is potent and provocative viewing for its entire running length.
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