The ongoing efforts of U.K. label Second Run to honor key films of the Czechoslovak New Wave continues with one of the funniest you're likely to encounter, The Barnabáš Kos Case, a mixture of biting political satire and physical comedy from a lesser discussed filmmaker Peter Solan (The Boxer and Death). Squeaked out during the few years when the government would allow something this overt, it had been in the works in various hands since the mid-'50s and still plays like a delicious tale still wholly relevant today.

So unimportant anyone else can do his job, orchestra triangle player Barnabáš Kos (Kemr) spends much of his time wrangling with the day-to-day bureaucracies of his life when even handing in a possibly disdelivered fan letter can land him in hot water. Much to his consternation, he's selected to become the orchestra's next musical director because he's the only person against whom no one can pose any objections. Realizing that the opportunity might give him a shot at the beautiful Julka (Kostova), he begins to implement his own wildly unqualified ideas into the orchestra which lead to increasing dysfunction and a rampaging ego.

It's probably no coincidence this film came out while the thematically related How To Succeed in Business Without Really Trying was still on Broadway, as the world was still settling into its postwar society filled with paperwork, new protocols, and an emphasis on ambition that could alter the personality of just about anyone. Fortunately this film isn't a bitter or ice-cold satire; there's still a vein of humanity running through it while the humor has a wry quality that keeps it from becoming cynical. That particularly extends to the ending, which doesn't quite go the dark, jaded route you might expect. As with many of its New Wave brethren, the film looks terrific with very sharp monochrome cinematography emphasizing the textures of wall decorations, structures, clothing patterns, and other eye-catching elements, while the cast is all solid with Bzduch making for a strong protagonist. Music aficionados will particularly enjoy the amusing sonic gags here that start during the opening credits, too.

Initially released on Blu-ray and DVD by the Slovak Film Institute, The Barnabáš Kos Case should find quite a few new devotees via the U.K. Blu-ray which sports a gorgeous 2K restoration and a pristine LPCM mono track with improved English subtitles. "Invincibility of Absurdity" (4m13s) is an introduction to the film by Rastislav Steranka, the Slovak Film Institute's Director of National Cinematographic Centre, about the director's often overlooked status in the local film industry, the 1954 literary source that took a while to crack, and the shift in tone as it ended up transitioning from satire to slapstick to absurdity. Solan's eerie 1974 short Nemecká (8m43s) uses strangely sinister natural footage and narration to craft the story of a roadway that plays a significant role in a 30-year-old Nazi atrocity. Then 1968's Promotion (Postup) (5m32s) is a quick, colorful animated bit of avian social commentary by Viktor Kubal also seen on the U.S. Blu-ray of The Bloody Lady. Finally, Portrait: Jarmila Kostova (8m14s) is a pop-heavy short film about the Slovak actress who's seen going about her professional and personal today, including cooking, wardrobe fittings, and studio time. An insert booklet features appreciative new essays by author Jonathan Owen and filmmaker Peter Strickland about the director's trademark touches, the state of New Wave cinema at the time, the Kafkaesque elements, and the pertinence of its use of the orchestra's power structure to represent the flawed, easily exploited nature of society itself.

Updated review on April 6, 2025