The Magic Voice Of A Rebel (Magický hlas rebelky)

Thanks. Thank you.

Back then my voice was something really unusual.

I didn't let anyone tell me what to do with it

or how to develop it.

True beauty lies in imperfections.

When a voice has a flaw, that's what makes it beautiful.

It's like a beauty spot

that makes the voice original and unmistakable.

She opens her mouth and everybody knows it's Marta Kubišová singing.

Marta's simply the best.

Her voice has an incredible colour

and she's able to convey such emotions to the audience…

It's fantastic.

The character of the voice is something you're given by God,

and using her voice, Marta wiped out the competition.

Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen,

it is my pleasure to welcome Marta Kubišová, the star of our theatre,

whose recital With Unusual Willingness will for the first time be accompanied

not only by a pianist as usual but by a whole band.

I met Marta face to face only after I opened my own theatre.

I knew I wanted to offer chansons as well as drama,

and I saw Marta as a great chanteuse.

He'll slowly come down that hill at the back.

He'll be coming down slowly and then you'll be here with her,

helping her to get up.

-In another shot. -Yes.

Our friendship was born step by step, as all great friendships are.

I remember the first moment that really helped us move forward.

I was brought up to be a gentleman.

I help women put on their coats, and if they carry something heavy,

I snatch it from their hands, so I can carry it for them,

but Marta told me off one day, saying,

"Look, that makes me uncomfortable, I can carry my own stuff."

But I said, "Well, this is how I treat all women. Let me be clear,

I'm gay and this is the way I was raised."

And Marta just lit up, saying, "I'm so relieved.

I thought another director was hitting on me

and I didn't know how to turn him down."

When I was little, I lived with my grandparents, my mum and dad

and my brother in our family house in České Budějovice.

In 1950, we moved to Poděbrady.

My father was considered to be one of the best internists.

In 1953, he closed his private practice,

without offering his X-ray to the socialist regime,

and that was the reason why he was put in prison for 3 months,

or 6 months maybe, I don't remember. But I do remember a classmate

who used to drive us to see him in my father's car.

My mum couldn't get a job, so she started washing dishes.

I was told, "Go find work in a factory,

because you won't be approved for higher education."

Every year I applied again for recommendation to be allowed

to take a university entrance exam, always in vain.

When it happened for the third time,

my boss suggested I hand in my notice.

I did it, and as I was walking across the town from the glassworks

I was wondering what to do next.

I couldn't study, I didn't have a job… But when I came home, my mum said,

"Look here, the Pardubice theatre is looking for a singer and actress."

So we went there.

At first it looked quite hopeless, there were all these girls

with bouffants and beehives and stick-on lashes. The girls from Prague.

I walked in, and seeing a guy sitting at the piano I said,

"Excuse me, I can play it myself." So I offended Mr Ondráček,

though I didn't even know it was him. "Excuse me, I can play it myself."

And I played some of the hits I knew from Radio Luxembourg.

And that was it. They stopped the audition.

If only the heavens

Could hear my cry

For your

Forgiveness

Of all my failings

From those younger days

I'd give anything to take back

In vain I ask why God filled my cup

With a fate I can't handle a fate written in riddles

Sometimes I ask whether God slipped up

And filled my cup with greater burdens than I can bear.

As a director, I knew I had Kubišová, who was going to have an anniversary,

and I wanted to prepare a special project for her 70th birthday,

rather a drama performance than a recital.

Then the idea was born to use a story about the Baroness Sidonie Nádherná.

I think she rebels against her fate,

-but sometimes we must show her sadness. -Absolutely.

-About where she ended up, not by her own fault. -Precisely.

The Resettlement Office of the Ministry of the Interior in Benešov announces

that in connection with training grounds for SS weapons set up near Benešov

the final boundaries of the 5th phase are herewith declared.

Good thing you're not here To see the trigger under my finger

My dear Johannes your heart would die again

The property of the Third Reich I now all that once was ours

Not even a candle may I place on a grave In manors and parks no longer mine

-Excuse me. I don't mean to interrupt. -Of course, we're talking about Pilsen.

-Oh, Marta sings in the Alfa Theatre, right? -Yes.

-How long? -One season. -And how did you get to work there?

-I moved from the Pardubice Theatre. -You were born in Pardubice then?

-No, I was born in Poděbrady. -And what are you planning next?

I've signed a contract with the Rokoko Theatre in Prague for the next season.

We're about to start. Everybody, get ready. Thank you.

Marta was lucky to have come to the right place, Prague,

at the right time, in the mid-1960s,

because it was the time when the authorities finally realized

there was such a thing as rock'n'roll.

Two years before that, you couldn't even write the word.

It was considered a tool of imperialism.

A pathetic pack of lines.

Worth no more than a book of matches.

I've said it from the start:

Write no more, no more, no more.

What else can he do; you're his muse.

I listened to Radio Luxembourg with my brother Jan,

using the same type of a radio set.

And I tried to play all those hits on the piano.

Elvis Presley, for example.

Then I tried to sing them as well,

and that may be how I learnt to sing in a way that wasn't common here as yet,

and I could phrase the lyrics the way it's done in English.

To be a good singer means a lot of hard work.

We realized that while watching Václav Neckář in a theatre ballet room.

Together with Helena Vondráčková a Marta Kubišová, he left Rokoko

to play a part in a real musical, with singing, dancing and acting.

Neckář made a great impression on Ondráček, who said,

"I was at the audition today and I'm telling you this guy is marvellous,

he can sing, but he can jump, too."

I thought, "Oh, this boy, where is he going to fly off to?"

He was like a younger brother to me.

Helena joined us at the same time as him.

I'd been singing in Rokoko for a year,

and she was like a butterfly.

A pretty flower of a girl with dimples, smiling sweetly.

Everybody was saying our voices went well together.

I'm the youngest Kid.

I'm the older Kid.

And I'm the most playful Kid.

I saw Golden Kids as a typical project of Boban Ondráček's.

He was intelligent and smart enough to realize

that if Václav would play a part of a clown,

who, back then, could swing his legs above his head quite easily,

if Helena would be a happy girlie

and Marta would be a bit of a female demon,

it would be the right stuff for just about any audience.

It was 15 months of truly stellar fame.

Boys, I'll say my lines. Thanks, Mr Bloch.

When do I start?

A mirror in an antique frame You silent witness to my time

you've led me on through all these years.

You used to know me fresh at dawn in vain you seek beauty now passed on,

and scents that tinged the world.

Distances smell of leather trunks and cases

a longing to run on.

Newer shores, and I know I'll take their beauty with me

back home to Janovice with me.

She was an avant-garde woman.

Look, she has a kind of a bun at the back, like me,

and you have this and a bun.

A beautiful woman…

What sad eyes she had…

I have a lot in common with Sidonie.

She was a free spirit,

she was a smoker,

and she loved animals,

so I do believe we have a lot in common.

I want to be free To breathe freely

In stormy waters To find my shore

In a fond embrace Where I remain asleep

To live on freely

Free from love

I want to be just as before To be me.

-How does it feel now? -Good.

-You're having a beer? -Yes, do you want a sip?

No way. That would be the end of me.

Oh, I thought you were so excited because you wanted a drink.

We used to go to a pub with a pitcher to fetch beer for our grandad.

We had to hurry up so that it wouldn't go flat.

This is me with my brother on a cherry tree.

That's where we used to sit.

What a great picture.

We sat there, picking cherries straight from the tree.

And when our grandad died, at home, not in a hospital,

the cherry tree died too.

You thought our country was run by the Soviet Union.

But if you still think so, I'm telling you, my young friends,

you couldn't be more wrong, those days are over!

The Prague Spring was fantastic. You could feel it in the air.

Maybe it was because people looked at each other and smiled more…

It really was a good time.

You were in Paris with your band. That must've been a very important,

if short, experience. You performed at The Olympia…

Mr Cocatrix decided to offer us, Helena, Václav and me,

a contract to perform at The Olympia in Paris for one month.

The audience was always great.

No matter where we went, Mr Cocatrix just said,

"These are my friends from Czechoslovakia,"

and there was a round of applause.

Everywhere in Europe, people held the Prague Spring in great respect.

It was fantastic, and then we went to the cinema to see Bonnie and Clyde.

When we came out, we were full of impressions from the film,

but once outside, we felt the film continued on the Boul'Mich.

I grabbed Václav, because I saw he was eager to see what was happening.

We also got doused with tear gas, with Artur, do you remember?

He failed to wind up the car window in time, and we were all crying,