József Pelikán is but a simple dyke keeper, true communist and family man until he unwittingly finds himself trapped in a socialist house of horrors for illegally slaughtering his pig, Dezső.
Understandably, because this was Rákosi era Hungary, this vile and evil pig murderer’s act makes him an enemy of the state and thus he was to be read his rights by the ever-dutiful policemen… that is, until a “friend in a high place” intervenes and saves Pelikán’s bacon. Or does he? Because though he was saved from the fire, such favors do not go unnoticed and he soon finds himself in one very big frying pan.
So goes the opening to The Witness (A tanú), a film which has entered the national consciousness on too wide a level to keep its “cult classic” label. Indeed Péter Bacsó’s film has had such an impact that it’s spawned a newspaper named in its honor (Magyar Narancs) and had its best lines enter the general lexicon of Hungarians; it sits up there with Mikhail Bulgakov’s novel The Master and Margarita as one of the best satires from and on socialist regimes. However, unlike Bulgakov, Bacsó saw his work supervised, cut and approved for release by the regime, albeit with a ten year delay. The censored scenes are available on the DVD as extras, although sadly these lack English subtitles. The comedy in its amiable absurdity is so devastating however, it’s surprising the authorities let the film be released at all.
The plot follows our pig-killing fiend Pelikán as he is not punished for Dezső’s slaughter, but rather rewarded with one high-ranking job after another. He never fails in failing at his tasks and yet his illustrious career continues, from his idea to build a socialist house of horrors at the funfair to his supervision of the Hungarian Orange (“The new Hungarian orange. It’s slightly yellower, it’s slightly sharper, but it’s our own.”) He is baffled himself, but as his mysterious benefactor Comrade Virág repeatedly informs him, it’s all because „the international situation is intensifying.” The film itself intensifies towards the end, with the comedy becoming darker and darker before its depressing finale. Though very much a Hungarian film, its humor is such that it can be readily enjoyed by foreigners and makes, along with Bacsó’s other films, a light-hearted way to explore the country’s darker past.
Available to rent at:
Odeon-Lloyd
1136 Budapest, Hollán Ernő u. 7.
Be sure to pick up a copy with English subtitles, as there are two versions available.