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Interview: Jonáš Svatoš (Národní filmový archiv)

For those who might not know about Národní filmový archiv, how would you describe its purposes and activities?

Národní filmový archiv is a memory institution dedicated to preserving, protecting, and promoting Czech film heritage. Our main activities include collecting and preserving moving image not just on 35mm film but also contemporary digital movie production, home movies on 8/16mm film, video art and we are just starting with preservation on digital games. We also have a large collection of film-related materials like screenplays, photographs, film documentation, correspondence, etc. We often digitise and digitally restore films from our collection to which we provide access to researchers, distributors and the general public, to promote Czech cinema both domestically and internationally. We also operate a public library with a fairly large catalogue of film-related works.

What was your pathway to working at NFA, did you always know you wanted to work in a film-related field or even in film preservation specifically?

I came to film preservation from an IT background through a film school. Since childhood, I’ve been immersed in computers with a particular interest in computer graphics, a feat that later in early adolescence transformed into me taking interest in VJing, a discipline of live video accompaniment of music. Later, I studied Film and TV School of Academy of Performing Arts in Prague (FAMU) with emphasis on preservation of both film and digital. Before that, I’ve worked in IT for almost 10 years as a Linux system administrator and saw large IT projects rise and fall, sometimes rushing myself into the middle of my night shift to a datacenter to revive a failed storage array. That gave me a pretty good understanding of how the storage of digital data works, and after I graduated, I took the opportunity that NFA was looking for a Head of Digital laboratory, a position which allowed me to combine my digital and film preservation expertise.

What does your job as Director of Audiovisual Collections entail?

I oversee the management, preservation, and accessibility of our vast film and video collections. This involves coordinating preservation efforts, making decisions on restoration projects, managing our digital archive, and collaborating with other departments to ensure our collections are properly catalogued and accessible to researchers and the public. I also participate in various projects, such as our current project pixelarchiv.cz which sets itself a task to kickstart digital preservation of Czech digital games.

How does the archive decide what films and materials to prioritise for preservation and/or restoration?

Our prioritisation process for film restoration is guided by a multifaceted approach that weighs several key factors. We carefully consider the historical and cultural significance of each film, recognizing its importance in the context of Czech and global cinema. The physical condition of the material is a critical concern, with priority often given to films at risk of deterioration to prevent permanent loss. We also take into account the rarity or uniqueness of the content, focusing on preserving films that offer irreplaceable historical or artistic value. The potential for public interest or academic research plays a role in our decision-making, as does the availability of resources and technical feasibility for each project. Additionally, we keep an eye on upcoming anniversaries, retrospectives, or other events that might spark renewed interest in particular films, allowing us to align our restoration efforts with these opportunities for increased visibility and appreciation.

Still from The Murder of Mr Devil, featuring a blonde woman lying on a tiled floor, reading a worn book, surrounded by discarded books.
Jirina Bohdalová in The Murder of Mr Devil (Ester Krumbachová, 1970)

What are the current challenges you/the archive faces in caring for films within the archive?

Národní filmový archiv faces several significant challenges in our preservation efforts. A primary concern is maintaining optimal storage conditions for our diverse materials, especially as we confront the realities of climate change, which can affect temperature and humidity control in our facilities. We also grapple with the delicate balance between preserving our collections and making them accessible to researchers and the public, as increased handling can potentially compromise the integrity of fragile items. Additionally, we must continually adapt to rapidly evolving digital preservation technologies, which requires ongoing training, investment in new equipment, and the development of new workflows to ensure our digital archives remain accessible and secure in the long term.

What type of collaborations do you undertake with other European archives?

We actively engage in collaborative efforts with other European archives through various channels. Our involvement is particularly strong in key organisations, with our CEO Michal Bregant currently serving as President of the Association des Cinémathèques Européennes (ACE), and our active participation in various committees of the International Federation of Film Archives (FIAF). We do undertake joint restoration projects, exemplified by our work on Extase, a film with Czech, Austrian, German, and French versions. This challenging restoration required careful selection of source materials, with our team focusing on the Czech version while Filmarchiv Austria handled the Austrian version. A similar collaborative approach is being applied to our ongoing restoration of the 1929 silent film Erotikon. Beyond these specific projects, we regularly exchange expertise and best practices with our European counterparts, participate in international conferences and workshops, and collaborate on exhibitions and screenings. These partnerships not only enhance our capabilities but also contribute to the broader preservation and promotion of European cinema heritage.

What were the reasons for restoring The Murder of Mr Devil / Vrazda ing. Certa, and what were the practical processes to ensure it was presented in its best version?

We chose to restore The Murder of Mr Devil due to its unique place in Czech cinema history and mainly its artistic merits. The restoration process was comprehensive and meticulous, beginning with a careful inspection and repair of the original film elements. We then proceeded with a 6.5K scan of the original camera negative to create a digital foundation for our work. The digital restoration phase addressed various forms of damage and degradation that had occurred over time. Colour grading was a crucial step, ensuring that the restored version matched the original cinematography as closely as possible. Parallel to the image restoration, we undertook sound restoration from an original sound negative to preserve the film’s sound quality. The process culminated in the creation of new 4K preservation masters and digital copies, safeguarding this important work for future generations and enabling its presentation to modern audiences.

The stars of The Murder of Mr Devil also feature in The Cassandra Cat / Až přijde kocour, which has risen to wider cult status since its restoration in 2021 – has the popularity of The Cassandra Cat impacted the types of films NFA looks to restore – can the presence of a cat influence you – or has it opened up audiences to the broader possibilities of Czech cinema?

The success of The Cassandra Cat has certainly highlighted the international appeal of Czech cinema from this era. While we don’t necessarily prioritise films based on the presence of popular actors or even cats, the renewed interest has encouraged us to look at other films from the same period and creative teams. It has also opened up opportunities to introduce international audiences to a broader range of Czech cinema, helping us showcase the depth and diversity of our film heritage.

All archives have passion projects that maybe won’t be top of the list for restoration or are necessarily going to be commercial hits even with the established international cinephiles or fan groups, so what are those titles for you?

While I can’t speak for everyone at the archive, personally, I’m passionate about preserving and restoring some of our lesser-known experimental avant-garde films from the 1920s and 1930s, e.g. by Alexander Hackenschmied and Jiří Lehovec. These works may not have broad commercial appeal, but I believe they represent important artistic movements and provide insight into the infancy of experimentation in Czech cinema. If everything goes as expected, the films will be digitally restored this year. Additionally, I’m keen on restoring some of our postwar documentary films in the future, as this type of cinema has also been overlooked with respect to returning films back to the big screen.

Is there one common misconception about film preservation or archiving that you would like to dispel?

One common misconception is that once a film is digitised and stored in the digital archive, the preservation work is done. In reality, digital preservation comes with its own set of challenges and ongoing responsibilities. Digital files require constant maintenance, migration to open formats, and careful management to ensure long-term accessibility. Additionally, we still need to preserve the original film materials as they often contain information that current digital technology can’t fully capture, and until it can, it appears we are sentenced to redo the restorations every decade or so. Nevertheless, we care for the film materials not just to maintain a source for the digitization process, but mainly to preserve these original cultural objects for posterity, as in preserving the Sumerian clay tablets which also have been already translated, digitised, rewritten, etc. Reformatting media is an infinite process, thus we always need access to the originals, while they last.

Weird Weekend present the UK premiere of Národní filmový archiv’s new restoration of The Murder of Mr Devil on Friday 26th July, 2024, part of our monthly screening series at OFFLINE, Glasgow. Tickets are available here.

Find out more about Národní filmový archiv’s work at their website here. Visit their shop for discs, books and merch here (we particularly recommend their Cassandra Cat tees).

Categories
Monthly Screening Series News Writing

Taking Stockings: An Ode to Tights on Film

Function, allure and even murder. From housewives to manic pixie dream girls, the humble tights (or nylons, pantyhose, hoses – your preference, really1) have enjoyed a cinematic representation any star would envy. One such time capsule of the interwoven nature of nylons on film is Ester Krumbachová’s The Murder of Mr Devil (1970). Despite the implied supernatural elements at play otherwise, The Murder of Mr Devil highlights a gorgeous intersection of practical fashion and seductive personal style. Arguably, Ona’s2 (Jirina Bohdalová) consistent commitment to opaque black tights is born from necessity, as the only window in her flat seems to be consistently open (or have no glass at all?). Choosing to sleep in a fetching mint-coloured negligee paired with thick, black tights suggests a determination to preserve her own subtly opulent style despite the cold.

From Sybil Seely’s thick, black undergarments in One Week (Edward F Cline, Buster Keaton, 1920) – an accurate depiction of the era’s necessary, sturdy housewifing attire – to generations of superhero films3, tights continue to tangle with cinema in the spin and drain of culture. Although tights, in various fabrics, forms and fashions, date back to as early as the 16th century, the rising hemlines of the 1920s saw a rise in their popularity – just in time for the new era of modern populist “sound” cinema. Tights, in classic black form, playful patterns and alluring sheer variants, have been captured on film across nations, classes and evolving trends.

The classique black tights, sheer or opaque, as the understated practical foundation or intimately suggestive fashion choice of (predominantly) women’s outfits, is the baseline of tights’ on-screen representation. But to limit their importance to simply practical items would be to omit some of their most interesting uses – and cinematic heritage – as indicators of personal style, identity-obscuring disguises and opportune murder weapons.

Poster for Black Tight Killers, featuring illustration of topless woman from the back, standing wide-legged and with hands aloft, wearing fishnet tights and ankle-high boots, three figures in various poses facing her with various weapons, and the text "angels are devils" and "girl gangs assaulting and killing for kicks!"
Poster for Black Tight Killers (Yasuharu Hasebe, 1966)

Mundanity as style or, perhaps more accurately, style despite mundanity, is exemplified in Ona’s commitment to tights as partners to her vastly varying hemlines, from micro to maxi, throughout The Murder of Mr Devil. Sybil Seely’s mid-calf plaid number paired with black tights in One Week is more plain than Ona’s also predominantly house-bound wardrobe. Tights as an item of allure can transform experiences and actions of mundanity. Ona’s legs in high-slit maxi dresses or full legs out in micro dresses are enhanced, not obfuscated, through the wearing of tights, bringing an intentional sensuality to daily mundane activities. Valérie Kaprisky as Ethel in La Femme Publique (Andrzej Żuławski, 1984) is another gorgeous example. Ethel transforms and traverses French domestic and the urban landscape in draped thigh-split dresses, revealing a suggestive lack of underwear.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, slits, or an explict erotic je ne sais quoi, isn’t necessary to ensure tights wow on screen. In fact, a skirt, or even bottoms, isn’t required at all. Judy Garland, as Jan Falbury, in Summer Stock (Charles Walters, 1950) delivers one of the most, if not the most, iconic moments for tights in cinema. Wearing a white shirt, black blazer, matching black fedora and only sheer black tights and heels on bottom, Garland belts out Get Happy. The sheer, perfect, tights contrast with the otherwise masculine, structured look without softening it, giving Garland as powerful and impactful a silhouette as the men in full suits alongside her.

Photograph of Judy Garland in front of a the camera on the set of Summer Stock, mid dance performance, wearing a hat askew and black nylons
Judy Garland, filming Summer Stock (Charles Walters, 1950)

Another powerful and impactful on-screen presence of black tights can be seen in the aptly named Black Tight Killers (Yasuharu Hasebe, 1966), with a gang of women utilising the practical nature of tights whilst still being able to cut an imposing shape in their matching leather jackets. A classic black tight, good enough to serve lunch in, good enough to kill in.

Ona’s only departure from classic black tights comes as she sits atop a large bag of raisins, gleeful in her fiendish activities, legs protruding from the thigh-high side splits of her floor-length brown dress. Her tights mirror this unbridled energy, a self-expression of freedom. Cinematic departures from plain tights often embody this type of woman, or girlish, freedom. Although not the first style trend/s to do so, a filmography encapsulating “twee” or, to be era-specific in the terminology, “indie” styles of (often young) women (somewhat leaning into the “manic pixie dream girl” trope) presents impressive and eclectic on-screen tights in varying patterns and colours; the blue tights of Jordana (Yasmin Paige) in Submarine (Richard Ayoade, 2011), Eve’s (Emily Browning) black polka dot tights in God Help The Girl (Stuart Murdoch, 2014), Enid’s red tiger-striped tights to match her monochrome red outfit in Ghost World (Terry Zwigoff, 2001) and, of course, Clementine’s (Kate Winslet) remembered/imagined childhood green tights in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (Michel Gondry, 2004).

Indie/twee film tights in their natural home, Tumblr.

Tights as fashion items can convey personal identity but they can also be a useful tool in the obfuscation of identity. Tights4 as disguises for illegal activities, predominantly robberies in various forms, take on the purpose of distorting rather than enhancing personal features. Early examples of this visual shorthand for mischief, malice or both, seen in Plunder Road (Hubert Cornfield, 1957) and Strongroom (Vernon Sewell, 1962), have a rather unsettling quality about them. The tights in these instances create an opaque, smooth plane, devoid of recognisable characteristics, the contours of the faces beneath creating shadows which, in the black and white images, present as sinister, almost non-human.

Perhaps more likely to be recalled when thinking of this visual motif is the use of sheer tights, which do lesss to truly hide one’s identity and more to pull at and rearrange, in funhouse-mirror-style, existing features. Walter Grauman’s Lady in a Cage (1964) leans into this unsettling quality. As a gang terrorises a trapped, well-to-do woman, the uncanny nature of their faces distorted through tights lends further unease to their acts and intentions.

Black and white film still, man leans on bannister, looking down, wearing a floral short-sleeved shirt and tights over his face, distorting his features.
James Caan as Randall, in Lady in a Cage (Walter Grauman, 1964)

This can create comical non-concealment of identity, such as Nicolas Cage in Raising Arizona (Ethan Coen, 1987), with his character Hi McDunnough’s unmistakable features shining through. Another Cage pic, Wild At Heart (David Lynch, 1987), again leans towards the sinister in its use of nylons, with Cage’s short-lived partner Bobby Peru’s (Willem Dafoe) grotesque features emphasised by the not-nearly-thick enough barrier between him, his victims and us as the audience5. A special mention must also go to Tom Noonan as Francis Dollarhyde in Manhunter (Michael Mann, 1989), whose use of a sheer tight mask from his nose upwards seems to be used solely in aid of enhancing his creepy persona.

From the head of a murderer to their hands, tights can again be transformed, this time into weapons. Fetish content aside (e.g. Silk Stocking Strangler, William Hellfire, 2002), the use of tights as a weapon seems to come from the same place as their most basic use as clothing – practicality, since they are most often in reach as the victim is almost always a woman. Although not always, as highlighted in The Nylon Noose (Rudolf Zehetgruber, 1963), a tail of tights-based murders with far more bizarre, fantastical things happening alongside.

Black and white still of white man in trench coat, being strangled with nylons from behind a pole
The Nylon Noose (Die Nylonschlinge, Rudolf Zehetgruber, 1963)

The Strangler (Burt Topper, 1964) draws inspiration not from the fantastic but from sadly horrific reality – the series of 13 murders, 1962-64, by a killer nicknamed The Boston Strangler6. Topper manages to reenact, with creative liberties, the real-life details of stockings as murder weapons in a sensualist and somewhat dehumanising manner to the (recently) deceased women, something for which cinema proves adept at unfortunately often. Fatal Pulse (Anthony J Christopher, 1988), a represenative example, draws on this theme of women as disposable items, beginning, in an almost parody of the slasher genre, with a topless blonde-haired woman scrambling from an assailant in her bedroom, only to be undone by her own white lace stockings. 

The Stepford Wives (Bryan Forbes, 1975) sees the (implied) death of yet another woman, as the robotic duplicate of protagonist Joanna (Katharine Ross) twists tights taut in her hands, having been discovered. In this context, tights act as a tool of distancing from the violence the men of the town are undertaking upon their wives. Tights as tools of violence seem particularly gruesome, the weaponising of an inconspicuous object so closely tied to women’s daily lives, self-expression and sexual allure.

Film still from The Stepford Wives, a woman in a sheer night dress and black, empty eyes, brandishes a pair of nylons.
Katharine Ross as “Joanna”, in The Stepford Wives (Bryan Forbes, 1975)

Tights hold the ability to express the expected duality of womanhood – the dutiful housewife, whose aesthetics and dress are led by practicality and function, and the whore, dressed only to attract. Ona’s wardrobe and style in The Murder of Mr Devil doesn’t necessarily rest on tights, but they are the often overlooked foundation, a necessary element of life, like food or wooden furniture legs, without which everything becomes unstable.

Megan Mitchell

Weird Weekend present The Murder of Mr Devil on Friday 26th July, 2024, part of our monthly screening series at OFFLINE, Glasgow. Tickets are available here.

  1.  Specific styles and variants which fall into the broad ‘tights’ family have been limited or omitted in this article, including stockings and fishnets (as they relate to showgirls, sex workers, fashion subcultures and women’s sexuality) and footless tights/leggings, as they truly deserve their own attention, and even lengthy articles.
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  2. Ona is simply “She” in Czech; we’ve retained the original language throughout for the purposes of readability. ↩︎
  3. Iconic Adam West’s Batman (Leslie H Martinson, 1966) may be the go-to mental image for this, and arguably  –  although pretty thick and more legging-like – Christopher Reeve’s Superman (1978-1983).
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  4.  NB this could arguably fall exclusively under “stockings”. However, inclusion is permitted with the understanding that identification of tights vs stockings, post-robbery modification – i.e. if tights have been cut to allow for ease of use – would be difficult.
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  5.  Coincidentally, Frederick Elmes noted his somewhat experimental use of tights stretched across the camera’s lens to create a subtle, dream-like effect for Wild At Heart during a post-screening Q&A at NYC’s Metrograph, April 13th 2024.
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  6.  Other filmic adaptations of this crime include The Boston Strangler (Richard Fleischer, 1968) and Boston Strangler (Matt Ruskin, 2023). 
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