The Fifth Horseman Is Fear (DVD, 2006)

Czech cinema in the 1960s encompassed a wide range of styles, from absurdist black comedies, to allegories, to historical dramas. The one constant was a deep and abiding concern for the common people, always in danger of being swept aside by forces beyond their control. Directors such as Menzel, Forman, Kadar, and Klos went on to build world-wide reputations by creating extraordinarily powerful motion pictures that examined every aspect of the human condition.
Politics was another matter. It was always dangerous to risk criticizing the all-powerful Communist state: if the government became displeased with your work- for whatever reason- the doors of the Barrandov Studio could be closed to you, either temporarily or permanently; and since there were no other studios, options were scarce. When directors such as Schorm and Nemec were banned from filmmaking, they were forced to eke out a living by directing small theatre companies in rural areas. But a solution was soon found in the recent past: World War II. The State encouraged the production of WWII films, since they could show the triumph of the (Communist) people over the Nazis. Of course, in the hands of a capable director, the Nazis of the past just might resemble Communist Party bosses of the present, and Nazi repressions of the '40s might seem remarkably similar to Communist Party abuses of the '60s. It was a near-perfect metaphor.
Such was the political climate in Czechoslovakia when 'The Fifth Horseman is Fear' was released in 1965. Directed by Zbynek Brynych, with a screenplay by Brynych and the brilliant Ester Krumbachova, the film stars Miroslav Mahacek as a Jewish doctor, prohibited from practicing medicine and forced by the Nazis and local collaborators to work in a menial position.
The events of the film are set in motion when a wounded resistance fighter hides in a friend's apartment, which happens to be in the same building where the doctor resides. Responding to their entreaties for help, the doctor sets out in the middle of the night to obtain the medicine that he needs to save the wounded man's life. Thus begins a nightmarishly surrealistic journey through the city: the doctor confronts men and women from every strata of society, from the highest to the lowest; desperately seeking information, he begs, argues, pleads, and cajoles each person he meets, and is propelled from one encounter to the next like a pinball in a machine. The writing here is of the highest order: when someone implies that he is an addict and actually wants the medicine for himself, the doctor replies that it's to save the life of a special man: 'he's not like me; he has a reason to live...'
[Spoiler Warning] The final moments of the film are intensely moving, due in no small measure to Mahacek's towering performance: the medicine delivered, and the injured man safely on his way, the doctor is confronted by the Nazis, who have rounded up all of the tenants in the building in hopes that they will betray one another. As the doctor turns to face his accusers, we can see that the events of the last few hours have changed him forever: no longer a craven, grovelling creature trying to avoid confrontations in order to preserve a wretched existence, refusing to allow himself to be defined by his enemies any longer, he declares proudly that he did, indeed, help the injured man escape, because 'I was...I am...a doctor'. His journey to help another human being has ended with the rediscovery of himself.