“A poignant and memorable cinematic journey.”

“Her voice could reach the heavens. His touch would drag her to hell.”

At first glance, Broken Voices might appear to be yet another entry in the growing canon of #MeToo-inspired cinema. However, director Ondřej Provazník’s masterful touch, particularly in his nuanced depiction of a predator’s intricate web of manipulation, elevates this film beyond a mere reiteration of familiar themes. It’s an exploration of how innocence is targeted and systematically crushed. The film draws its chilling authenticity from the real-life story of Bohumil Kulínský, a celebrated Czech choirmaster. For three decades, he presided over the esteemed Bambini di Praga choir, a sanctuary for the youngest voices, while simultaneously engaging in the sexual and psychological abuse of young girls – crimes for which he was ultimately convicted.

Provazník transports us to the 1990s, where this dark narrative unfolds through the experiences of 13-year-old Karolina (Kateřina Falbrová) and her 15-year-old sister, Lucie (Maya Kintera). In their family, singing isn’t merely a pastime; it’s a profound source of identity and communal pride. Lucie was already a part of an elite Czech girls’ choir, a world Karolina aspires to join, honing her burgeoning soprano talents with fervent dedication. When Karolina’s gifts flourish, she, like her sister, receives an invitation to a revered singers’ retreat nestled in the snowy mountains. There, her talent and innocence catch the eye of choirmaster Vitek Macha (Juraj Loj). As Vitek’s insidious attention intensifies, Karolina finds herself ensnared in a dual torment: the cruel bullying of her peers and the choirmaster’s calculated, sinister pursuit.

From its opening frames, Broken Voices establishes an immediate, sombre tone. The film commences with a close-up of the protagonist’s melancholic profile, silhouetted against a cool, bluish backdrop. This initial visual choice by Provazník deftly foreshadows the underlying tension and subtly hints at the journey towards an uneasy resolution. The narrative, presented linearly and primarily through Karolina’s narration, adeptly interweaves her soaring aspirations with the cutthroat competitiveness between the sisters. Crucially, it also delves into their family’s dynamics, illustrating the immense value their parents place on choir membership and the societal recognition it confers. This exploration of ingrained parental values enriches the film’s social commentary, revealing how external expectations can shape a child’s intrinsic sense of self-worth.

What truly distinguishes this cinematic endeavor within the #MeToo landscape is its unflinching portrayal of Vitek’s systematic psychological warfare – the subtle push and pull of his influence – juxtaposed with the virulent peer bullying fueled by rampant competition. Despite these compelling elements, the narrative occasionally falters, exhibiting a curious lack of genuine freshness in its overall arc. Moreover, some sequences, particularly in the final fifteen minutes, suffer from a degree of repetitiveness that neither advances the plot nor deepens character insight. However, Provazník’s audacious decision to depict the actual sexual assault with an artistic yet impactful sensibility recalls the unflinching gaze of a director like Catherine Breillat, ensuring the scene resonates with layered, intertextual meanings.

The film’s most striking attribute beyond the compelling, if at times uneven, narrative is its exquisite cinematography by Lukáš Milota. The deliberate use of lighting serves not only as a visual spectacle but as a powerful conduit for the characters’ internal landscapes. The warm amber and crimson hues of the family home stand in stark contrast to the cold, sterile blues dominating the US tour, vividly mirroring the emotional shifts and psychological states of the characters within these environments. Milota’s calculated choice to introduce Vitek with a mid-close, low-angle shot, seen from the perspective of the seated choristers, is particularly potent. This framing not only conveys the children’s reverence for their choirmaster but powerfully underscores the god-like, almost omnipotent authority he wields over these impressionable young girls. Overall, Broken Voices is a competently executed production, boasting captivating visuals and compelling, realistic performances. It skillfully lays bare the insidious machinations of an abuser and the brutal dynamics of peer-driven competition. While its narrative might not etch itself into the viewer’s memory as an utterly novel experience, it undoubtedly delivers a poignant and memorable cinematic journey.