The opening of Burning Bush has the look of a Sixties teen movie, with grinning kids gyrating to rock ’n’ roll – almost Beach Party without the beach. But the impression doesn’t last as the scene cuts to a caravan of tanks creeping along dimly lit streets and shortly into broad daylight. The kids are there too, but they’re not smiling. Some hurl Molotov cocktails at the tanks; others wave national flags (one smeared with blood). It’s real footage, and the place is Czechoslovakia, 1968, the end of the eight-month “Prague Spring” so poignantly symbolised by the young dancers who were briefly free enough to behave as Western youths do.
The transition from newsreel footage to film plot (based on real events) begins with Jan Palach, a young man on the same Prague streets weeks after the invasion. He puts his briefcase down, douses himself with gasoline, and sets himself ablaze, leaving a note warning the country’s masters that certain freedoms must be restored – and the Soviets sent home – or others will follow his example.
The Czech communists scurry to discover the identity of these potential human torches, but with little success. Instead they resort to character assassination. Palach was “duped” by fellow Western-leaning students, counter-revolutionaries all; the poor young fool really believed the fluid he was using would produce a “cold fire”, causing no harm. They recruit a communist stooge, Vilém Nový (Martin Huby), to spread the lie.
But the Palachs – mother (Jaroslava Pokorná) and surviving brother (Petr Stach) – will have none of it and retain Dagmar Burešová (Tatiana Pauhofová) to sue the authorities. The lawyer and her assistant Pavel (Patrik Děrgel) comb Prague and outlying towns to prove the claims are slander, encountering many obstacles but largely succeeding.
Yet as they come closer to the truth, the state turns the screws to stop them. The judge receives a diktat with a predetermined verdict against the Palachs; Dagmar’s husband, a doctor, is threatened with dismissal from his hospital; files incriminating Nový go missing; and Jan’s resting place, a modest pilgrimage site, is moved, a sure sign that the atheistic state finds nothing sacred, so long as the deed serves the ends of history.
Burning Bush, directed by Agnieszka Holland, runs in three parts of roughly an hour and 20 minutes apiece. Filmed in colour, it nevertheless has tones that leave the impression of black and white, as is entirely fitting. The plot unfolds slowly, to be sure, but remains as engrossing as it is heart-rending. And at a moment when the West, which those young people admired so ardently, seems bent on destroying free speech, Burning Bush is timely. On the Criterion Channel or Amazon Prime, it is a must-see.
Dr Carl C Curtis III is a professor of English at Liberty University in Lynchburg, Virginia
Areas of Catholic Herald business are still recovering post-pandemic.
However, we are reaching out to the Catholic community and readership, that has been so loyal to the Catholic Herald. Please join us on our 135 year mission by supporting us.
We are raising £250,000 to safeguard the Herald as a world-leading voice in Catholic journalism and teaching.
We have been a bold and influential voice in the church since 1888, standing up for traditional Catholic culture and values. Please consider donating.