Louka is a lifelong bachelor in late middle aged, and fond of pursuing younger women. His car breaks down, and he is desperate for funds. He agrees to marry a Russian woman, Nadezda, for money, an arranged visa fraud marriage that could get him in trouble with authorities.
Nadezda (Irina Bezrukova) has a boy, Kolya (Andrey Khalimon), about five years old. Nadezda flees the country, and Louka is unwittingly left to the boy by himself. He tries to dump the boy off on his aged mother (Stella Zázvorková) and the man (Ondrej Vetchý) who convinced him to marry.
But there are no takers, and Louka is stuck with the boy. Nonetheless, he gradually grows fond of him, and within a year wishes to keep him. The evolution of Louka's fatherhood, from grudging to nurturing, becomes the charm of the movie.
How others will see it. Kolya was a sleeper hit on the festival circuit, winning Best Foreign Language Film first at the Golden Globes, then the Academy Awards. At the European Film Awards, it was named European Film of the Year. It dominated the Czech Lions, the country's equivalent of the Oscars, taking home Best Film, Best Actress (Libuse Safránková, despite having few lines), Best Supporting Actor (the boy), Best Director, and Best Screenplay.
But how did humble Kolya slay the giant Goliath festivals? Was it the story, about a self-interested middle-aged Czech man bonding, despite his independent nature, with a boy, despite the latter's Russian origins? This bonding is epitomized by the most memorable scene, the boy reaching for his guardian's hand at a busy crosswalk.
But there are many films where a man, against his will, grows to love a child. What makes Kolya special? Is it simply a miracle of direction, screenplay, and casting?
Well, one reason that Kolya is different is that it stars the father of the director, shades of The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. And that father is also credited as co-writer of the screenplay. Further research shows that the father, Zdenek, has eight Czech Lion Best Screenplay nominations. That is, he is more successful as a writer than he is as an actor, at least in the Czech Republic.
The son, Jan, also has eight Czech nominations, as Best Director, winning four of them for a .500 batting average. Clearly, father and son are a dynamic duo together as filmmakers. The magic comes from their partnership, similar to the Coen brothers.
But despite its festival accomplishments, Kolya has only 17K user votes today at imdb.com. This is partly because the story lacks the flash, of, say, Léon: The Professional. And partly because it is Czech.
Those who have seen the movie, though, grade it fairly high, at 7.7 out of 10. The user reviews gush with praise.
How I felt about it. I am a little uncomfortable with sixty-ish Louka bedding beautiful women half his age, or even a third his age. I understand his desire to do so, but I don't understand why the women play along. This is not a James Bond movie.
Also, the backstory of freedom (from Soviet occupation) coming to the Czech Republic (then Czechoslovakia), seems a distraction from the story. Why not predate the film a couple of years, and have it set entirely within the Iron Curtain era?
The lead as Lothario, and the Russian crushing of Czech independence, are reminiscent of The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1988), which was partly set during the Prague Spring.
But these are minor complaints. Otherwise, it is a completely winning movie. We understand Louka's reluctance to any changes in his life, much less ownership of a small child, no matter how adorable and obedient (the child is strictly cinematic, and never acts up).
The irony is that we sympathize with Louka despite his selfishness and greed. He agrees to an arranged marriage for money, attempts to sleep with the bride, and tries to get out of caring for the child. He is guilty of immigration fraud, yet we hope he escapes legal consequences from the Russian puppet police detectives.