There Is Nothing Finer Than Bad Weather
(Nyama nishto po-hubavo ot loshoto vreme, 1971)

Metodi Andonov

Bulgaria

129 min, B&W, Bulgarian

Review © 2005 Branislav L. Slantchev

A typical Cold War yarn from behind the Iron Curtain, this film is not exactly the Bulgarian answer to James Bond, although it does sport intrigue galore, some kidnappings, murder, parties, and the occasional naked female breasts. The film was scripted by gifted writer Bogomil Raynov from his own eponymous novel, which happens to be among the most popular novels of the period, and which has given us the almost universally recognizable phrase that constitutes the film's (and the novel's) title. Other than that, there really isn't much that can recommend this film.

Cold War noir	Not the window-cleaners

Morris (aka Emil Boev, played by Georgi Georgiev-Getz) is a Bulgarian spy who has successfully infiltrated a company called "Zodiac" which he suspects functions as a front for CIA operations in Europe. His friend and fellow spy Lyubo (Stefan Danailov in a brief cameo) has just been murdered by the bad guys while peacefully strolling down the river bank, and Morris is motivated by more than love of country and its glorious communist system to undermine the evil Western machinations. He manages to obtain his position at "Zodiac" through the offices of a rival intelligence network whose masters never really become known, but who do not seem to be working for the Eastern bloc. In all of this, Morris finds the time to have a tumultuous affair with his pretty secretary Edith (Elena Rainova).

The spy who put on makeup (and loved me)	Gratuitous shot of Elena Rainova

The plot is not all that intricate once one understands what's going on, which can be nearly impossible on first viewing. I spent almost the entire film in a sort of a haze, and it wasn't just the hallucinogenic editing that obliterated any separation between present-time narration and flashback that did it. The novel (which I have not read) is probably much clearer, which means the storyline was just too complex for the screen, and that it was not condensed to manageable proportions. For example, I thought that Morris was a double agent for a good part of the film and only belatedly understood that he is, in fact, just a straight spy working undercover.

Spy angst	Trying to comprehend modern art

So this Morris infiltrates Zodiac, sleeps with Edith, and at the same time blackmails Van Alten (Konstantin Kotsev) into letting him into the company's ultra-secret archive where he can photograph the list of Western spies in Europe. Of course, Van Alten gets himself killed quite inconveniently, and Morris himself is kidnapped by Evans (Kosta Tsonev) and his stooges, among whose number is Warner, played somewhat incongruously by Todor Kolev. It is in the final interview where the audience actually realizes what Morris was after all this time because he helpfully tells Evans all about it. It really reminded me of an Agatha Cristie novel with the inevitable revelations at the end, except that at least the readers usually knew what Poirot was after. On the other hand, this scene is the occasion for my favorite lines in the entire film, which translated roughly, would go like this:

Warner: Start talking.
Morris: What do you want to know?
Warner: We know who you are, and you know what kind of people we are. We all know what type of questions people like us would ask a person like you. So ask the appropriate questions in your head, and start giving us the answers.

Georgi Georgiev-Getz is Emil aka Morris	No chemistry (nice rain though)

And that, unfortunately, is the most memorable part excepting the walk and bicycle ride in the rain, and perhaps the scene with Pepa Nikolova who flashes the rare breast in socialist cinema. I wish I could say there was much chemistry between Georgi and Elena, but there really was none. She is a very attractive young woman, and she acted her role superbly. She reminded me of Natalya Varley from Kavkazskaya plennitsa for some reason, perhaps all the playfulness, bravado, and mischief in her eyes. But Elena was not all looks here, and we see a few very powerful scenes where she cries, agonizing over her assignment, and the inevitable rift with Morris that must follow. Georgi, on the other hand, was too nonchalant, too distant, and too unconcerned to be convincing as the master spy. Perhaps his general featurelessness, and greyness were appropriate for someone who has to blend in as a corporate suit, but he did that even in his one-on-one scenes with Elena. I never could believe (and neither did she, it seems) that he cared for her.

Still no chemistry despite stolen bicycles	Prelude to a peek

What the film lacks as an action flick, it fails to make up even as a political drama. There's very little propaganda, and most of it is actually anti-communist because it comes from the mouth of a foreign agent. The intelligent viewer is left to his own devices and he is clearly supposed to infer the strength of our communist spies from their unswerving dedication to their country, their incorruptibility (despite an excellent job in the West, and the pretty secretary), and their genuine smarts (as they outfox the corrupt CIA guys, especially when they can do it without getting killed in the process). Contrast this with the bad dudes; Evans, for example. The cover of his operation has been blown but he cannot help but continue the charade to the detriment of his own country: that's because our wily Bulgarian spy has got some evidence for malappropriations that can expose Evans, and this keeps him in line. Not only do we get the list of foreign agents in our midst but we can blackmail successfully the corrupt Americans.

Almost a confession	High-tech gadgetry on loan from Q

The contrast is underscored when it is revealed that Edith is a fellow agent of the GDR intelligence service. She's therefore on our side. But she is much weaker for she has fallen in love with Morris, who never confuses business with pleasure although he would not refuse pleasure. Much like James Bond really, but without the gadgets. Bulgarian spies don't need them, they've got brains. Sort of.

Todor Kolev does not cut it	Roughed-up but with steely determination

The film is excruciatingly framed and despite the generous 2.35:1 widescreen manages to feel claustrophobic. This is odd considering who the director was: Andonov would go on to create the most famous Bulgarian film of all time, The Goat Horn. From the bizarre camera angles, to filming half of people's faces but their entire mid torsos, from squeezing way too many faces in a frame to cheap lighting, everything speaks of a tradition quite far from what we are accustomed to. Unfortunately, it's not for the best, and as a result, the film is painful to look at. Add to this the execrable award-winning music score, the stiff acting (except for Elena), and the convoluted storyline. What do you get? Something you probably won't see more than once.

The grief of the GDR spy	Till train do us part

The film is not generally available, but I have it on DVD with truly awful pixellation and all sorts of compression artifacts. Fortunately, the black and white makes it watchable, after all the Orwo colors would have done it no favors either. I doubt that many would bother seeing this film except for nostalgic value, but almost all of it takes place outside Bulgaria (except one shot of the puny Sofia airport and a stroll down a street lined with Soviet cars), so that value is also dubious. At least Elena Rainova provides enough eye candy, and the occasional inspired scene may make the film worth checking out. Maybe.

February 17, 2005