52 Films by Women Vol 10. 26. OTEC (FATHER) (Director: Tereza Nvotová)

 


PicturedMichal (Milan Ondrík) is prevented from rushing to the scene of a crime in a scene from Slovak co-writer-director Tereza Nvotová's third feature, Otec (Father). Still courtesy of Intra Films (Slovakia)  

Some directors make incredible leaps between one movie and the next. Did we really expect Steven Spielberg to move from the cinema of suspense (Jaws) to that of wonder (Close Encounters of The Third Kind)? Or George Lucas to move from redefining 1960s nostalgia in an apolitical way (American Graffiti) to creating a science fantasy franchise (Star Wars)? Slovak writer-director Tereza Nvotová makes a similar progression from her second feature Nightsiren (released in 2022) to her third, Otec (Father), which she boldly stages the action in a series of single takes (the generic term is ‘oners’). Not only does Nvotová create a sense of unease from the opening moments, as she introduces the protagonist, publishing company boss Michal (Milan Ondrík) as he completes a run, checks whether his chickens have laid eggs and runs upstairs to take a shower, all the while followed by the camera (the cinematography by Adam Suzin deserves special mention) but Nvotová uses the stylization to play a trick on the audience, so that we discover Michal’s shocking lapse of concentration as he does. The conclusion of the film’s first act is both shocking and breathtaking.

I was not a fan of Nightsiren. However, Otec left me riveted. Working with co-writer Dusan Budzak, Nvotová based her film on a real event, exploring the aftermath. As characters agree later, the human brain plays tricks. Perception is not reality. Nvotová accompanies the camerawork with a soundtrack that approximates white noise, a continuous throbbing that rises and drowns out dialogue. She puts us as close as cinematically practicable inside Michal’s head. The trust she places in her technique is rewarded in devastating fashion.

The use of a ‘oner’ to immerse the audience in the action is well-established, with riveting examples staged by Sebastian Schipper (Victoria) and Sam Mendes (1917). The difference is that both Victoria and 1917 are staged as ‘real time’ dramas. The action lasts as long as the film without a single visible cut. Otec takes place over several months. The first act takes place over the course of seven and a half hours (between 08:00 to 15:30), with an ellipse created by a zoom into a moving fan – the air conditioning in Michal’s building has broken down. Subsequent scenes focus on a series of moments: driving a car back after it was analysed by the police, coming home in a changed state.

If Nvotová has an auteur interest it might be in the single horrific event that causes layers of effect - on the person responsible, their spouse, colleagues and society at large. We are shown a deeply held truth and perceptions of it; how those affected struggle to cope. There are symbols of failure – a car, a car seat. Characters make decisions to move on. Then there is a question of morality. Is Michal a bad person? If so, by whose objective standard?

Michal is a devoted husband and father who begins his day with a run. Both he and his wife Zuzka (Dominika Morávková) have important jobs. Zuzka is seeing her CEO that morning. She asks Michal to take their two-year-old daughter, Dominika (Dominika Zajcz) to day care. Michal agrees. We follow him as he enters the house, climbs stairs, undresses and enters the shower, the camera showing him at waist height. After Michal leaves the shower and dries himself, the camera retreats to show Zuzka encouraging her daughter to climb off her toy motorcycle and put on her shoes. Choreographing elaborate camera movements with actors is one achievement. Working with a child too young to understand she is in a film constitutes a huge risk. Michal re-enters the frame fully dressed. The camera follows him as he fetches the new car seat, which is placed to a smaller, older one. Dominika is carried into the car and secured. Michal then gets into the driver’s seat and starts the engine. We see the action from the passenger seat next to Michal. Michal looks behind him to ask Dominika if she would like some music. He puts on a children’s CD, ‘If you’re happy and you know it’ and sings along. We get nervous, not least because when he claps his hands as the song suggests, they leave the steering wheel. Thank goodness stamping your feet is next. Michal doesn’t drive very far before stopping the car. He watches his daughter run to the day care centre worker. Then he drives on, turns a corner and parks, the single take remaining unbroken, a news report describing the 37-degree Celsius heat. 

The camera leaves the car as Michal does. He walks to his building and is told by a female colleague that the ‘AC is broken’. ‘Not now,’ he replies. He enters an elevator – the ‘oner’ continues – and is told by an assistant that the man he is expecting later, an efficiency expert brought in to save the company, has already arrived. We see an electrician struggle to repair the air conditioning. Michal tells him to call another colleague. He also asks his assistant to re-arrange a second meeting; we see her doing so. Michal greets the efficiency expert and walks him into the meeting room. The expert begins his address. Michal sees a colleague at the conference table scrolling through his phone. He walks over and knocks the phone out of the colleague’s hand. Then his own phone rings. ‘Excuse me,’ he tells the efficiency expert, ‘it’s my wife. I must take this.’ We follow Michal as he enters a bathroom cubicle to take a call. Zuzka wants to purchase a cabinet. There is one left of a particular design in stock. But there are other cabinets in lighter colours available. Would he take a look? Michal promises to respond, leaves the bathroom cubicle and returns to the glass-walled meeting room. The efficiency expert has finished his introduction. Michal takes him outside and offers him a coffee, switching on a machine that pours two black coffees at the same time. He hands one to the expert. ‘To understand the company, you should have a one-to-one with every member of staff,’ Michal explains. A colleague collects the expert to take him for a tour. Michal goes to his office and takes a call from his ex-wife, Eva (Anna Geislerová). ‘Have you decided?’ he asks. She wants him to purchase another heart monitor for her father, the one he gave him recently having broken. ‘Of course,’ Michal responds. We don’t find out what the decision point is until much later. The electrician comes in to tell him that he called the other man, who could not fix the problem. He plants a fan next to Michal’s desk and switches it on. The camera zooms in.

Pictured: Dealing with trauma, Michal (Milan Ondrík) is haunted by strange dreams. A scene from Slovak co-writer-director Tereza Nvotová's immersive third feature, Otec (Father). Still courtesy of Intra Films (Slovakia)

When the camera zooms out, it is the afternoon. Michal is watching some home video footage of Dominika being introduced to pet chicks in a bedroom. Then he receives a second call from his wife and understands something is very wrong.

I won’t spoil what happens next but Michal and his wife, who subsequently joins him, are devastated. We expect an arrest to be made. We next see Michal and Zuzka at home. Michal lies on the floor and bangs his head against a door. Zuzka moans. Michal grabs a knife. Zuzka takes it from him, holding the blade. Then she collapses. Michal calls for an ambulance. ‘Are you that man?’ the operator asks, aware of news reports. Moments later, Michal – and we – are aware lights outside the family home. He opens the door and sees a crowd of journalists. Making their way through the throng, two medics enter the house. ‘Is it a suicide attempt?’ one reporter asks. Zuzka is then carried out.

As the couple come to terms with a tragedy for which Michal bears responsibility, we see negotiate small challenges, including Michal having to collect his car. He drives it, looks behind him and sees his daughter in the back seat. He stops the car on the motorway and bursts into tears. Zuzka rushes to him an escorts him to her car. Much later, he announces a surprise. He has bought a new car and sold the one. He tells Zuzka that she can drive the new car. He will drive hers. She refuses, telling him that she can no longer live with him.

The film builds to testimonies in court that are also filmed in a single take. Eva, Zuzka and Michal are cross-examined. At a certain point, the camera withdraws from the action, focussing on the ceiling. The viewer may be reminded of a similarly staged courtroom sequence in Beth de Araújo’s film, Josephine, another examination of masculinity. However, Nvotová shifts emphasis to show the power exercised by women, in this instance through compassion.

Pictured: Michal (Milan Ondrík) and Zuzka (Dominika Morávková) in a scene from co-writer-director Tereza Nvotová's film, Otec (Father), Slovakia's submission for Best International Film at the 2026 American Academy Awards and inspired by real events. Still courtesy of Intra Films (Slovakia) 

The outcome becomes clear when Michal comes home and discovers that a surprise 45th birthday party is being held in his honour. He hides in a space adjacent to the main part of the house but is discovered by Zuzka. He then overhears what his ‘well-wishers’ think of him. He ‘tanked the company’ is one judgment.

In a break from the extended takes, there is a dream sequence in which Michal runs naked towards a washing machine full of little chicks. He remains emotionally and physically fragile right to the end.

Otec offers a very different take on patriarchy than we might expect. Michal is defined by his love for his daughter, even when Zuzka reminds him that he did not want a child. In court, we are told the sequence of events that led to him becoming a father, that is, cheating on his first wife, then marrying a pregnant woman. Michal is presented as a man not in control. While he can remove objects (a phone, a knife, a car), he cannot affect events. Paternal power is negative. Nvotová does not suggest that society would run more effectively if there was a shift in the status quo. Rather she contends how easily patriarchal power can be derailed. Michal’s inability to fulfil a superficially straightforward task isn’t considered callous or careless. Rather, he discovers how easily he can be fooled. The consequences are devastating. Otec offers no catharsis.

Reviewed at SXSW London, Screen Two, Curzon Hoxton, East London, Saturday 6 June 2026, 13:30 screening  

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