The man who captured a Lion

Ondřej Štindl is enjoying the fruits of his labor. The screenwriter recently won a Český lev (Czech Lion) award for Pouta, a bleak film noir set in 1980s Czechoslovakia, and his reputation is soaring, if the fan who approached our table during a recent lunchtime interview with The Prague Post is any indication.

"It was and wasn't a surprise when I won, but it feels quite good," says the soft-spoken Štindl. "It was nice to see all those people again at the awards ceremony, whom you remember working really hard on the film."

Štindl started as a journalist, working in Prague in the early 1990s with the then-pirate station Radio 1 before going on to work for the Czech department of the BBC. These days, when he's not working on screenplays, Štindl writes film reviews for Lidové noviny.

"Sometimes people ask me how I'd review my own film, and I really don't know," he says.

Despite Štindl's apparent indecision, he clearly did something right with Pouta, which tells the story of a secret policeman named Antonín who develops an unhealthy obsession with the lover of the man he is tailing. Feeling increasingly claustrophobic under the Soviet blanket, Antonín schemes to meet the girl, in the hope that she might offer him some form of escape.

Pouta swept the board at the Czech Lions, collecting Best Screenplay, Best Picture, Best Director (Radim Špaček), and Best Lead Actor (Ondřej Malý). Pouta has also been well-received at festivals in Poland and South Korea.

The initial idea for the film came from a pub conversation Štindl had with his friends in the late-'90s after watching Martin Scorsese's Casino and wondering how a similar film would work in a distinctly Czech setting.

"There are definite similarities between a '70s gangster and a secret policeman, a similar environment," Štindl says.

Living outside the center of Prague, Štindl began to compose the film in his head on the 40-minute bus commute, and finished his first draft by the end of 2001. By 2003, the film had received a government grant of 16 million Kč, which helped, but still wasn't substantial enough to complete the film. All told, three directors worked on the film, Štindl says.

A vivid depiction

Pouta's characters give a vivid depiction of the diverse ways in which people reacted to Soviet rule. If Malý's bitter and brutal Antonín represents all that was wrong, then Kristína Farkašová as the redheaded Klára is the spark of rebellion, positivity and hope that resided in the hearts of many. Štindl, however, claims that none is inspired by people he knew, or knows.

"No characters are taken from real experiences, although one lady told me that Antonín, in his appearance and sometimes in his speech, reminded her of a notorious secret police captain she once knew," Štindl says.

As part of his research, the screenwriter talked to two former secret policemen, which he described as an "interesting" experience.

"One of them was actually quite nice because he left the force before the revolution. He came to the conclusion he didn't want to be a part of it. The other one is now quite a successful attorney. He was a weird guy," he says.

Ever the humble screenwriter, Štindl is happy to point out some minor faults with Pouta, now that his Czech Lion is safely on the mantel.

"There are some small things we got wrong," he says. "There's a moment where one of the characters is waiting for two days in prison; his cellmate is lying on his bunk. I saw the film with a few people who were detained like that, and they told me, 'No one would have been allowed to do that!' "

Yet Pouta is still a brilliant, if harrowing, portrait of a time when things that could barely be contemplated now were everyday occurrences. One scene has Antonín compose an anonymous letter to a man's wife, informing her that he's having an affair.

"This was a quite common practice," Štindl explains. "I know a person whose partner received four letters like this. He told me two were right and two were wrong!"

Although he is content to bask in his success, Štindl is not one to rest on his laurels. His second screenplay is now completed, he says.

"In a way, it's quite conventional, a coming-of-age story which takes place in a small town in the Sudetenland sometime in the '90s. I'd really like to make it with the same team, maybe next year, possibly even later this year."

Many writers toil their entire lives without receiving the recognition Štindl has won for his first screenplay, which he began at the late age of 36. Was it chance or inspiration that got him started? Štindl suggests it might have had "something to do with a midlife crisis."

"Some people find a Russian supermodel," he says. "I started to write scripts."

Will Noble can be reached at
wnoble@praguepost.com