The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1988)

Loosely adapted from the Milan Kundera novel of the same name, The Unbearable Lightness of Being is a very sexual film. I wanted to get the sex stuff out of the way early, it is shall we say very European and surprisingly explicit in its approach to this topic. While I don't mind what I'd call a 'moderate' depiction of sex in a movie, I get kind of uncomfortable if there's a lot of it. I considered turning this movie off, Tomas (Daniel Day-Lewis) the films primary or hub character (meaning he links most of the central players together, though others get about the same amount of screen time) is a skilled surgeon living in late 1960's Czechoslovakia, he's an intelligent, very literate man, doesn't care much about politics, enjoys sleeping around with multiple women (notably Lena Olin), and doesn't seem all that conflicted about it. While visiting a small country town to preform an operation he meets a young women (a lovely, young, rather Audry Tautou like Juliette Binoche), they begin a relationship and eventually marry. Tomas of course still sleeps around, he trys to explain to his wife that its just sex, and though this is not satisfying to her they still try and make it work. Soviet tanks rolling into Prague in the late summer of 1968, clamping down on a liberalizing socialist government Russia fears has moved to far afield, of course changes some things. Tomas and Tereza participate in demonstrations against the occupation, try a brief exile in Switzerland, then move back to their homeland, but because Tomas won't sign a letter renouncing an article he had written critical of the Soviet Union he is reduced to working as a window cleaner while in the city, so the couple move to the country to work on the farm of a mutual friend. It's scope, deep and complicated characters, seemingly meandering story structure, political and existential wondering, as well as its eastern European setting put one in mind of a Russian novel (though writer Kundera was of course Czech). I've become increasingly fascinated with characters who grow but don't change, or change but don't grow, or however you'd word it. The characters in this film progress, but they don't really change who they are, if that makes any sense. Anyway I think this move was done just about perfect, leaving an artful ambiguity that I wouldn't want to have explained away. 5 stars.