Set in the thirteenth century at a time of transition from tribal to state (and church) law, Marketa Lazarova plays out a parallel between tribal barbarism and "civilized" brutality. But if historical themes provided a way in which controversial ideas could be smuggled onto the screen, they had their own artistic raison d'être as well. Marketa Lazarova, filmed under treacherous conditions in the mountain regions of southern Bohemia, is a tale told with a dazzling visual sensibility that has suggested such diverse comparisons as Kurosawa and Bergman. Above all, its uncanny realism, both physical and psychological, in recreating a medieval milieu makes this little known film one that deserves wider appreciation. The story is one of rivalry and revenge between a clan of brutal robbers and the family of a thieving squire. A liaison between the squire's daughter and the demonic clan's son, who kidnaps her on the eve of her entry into a convent, has ominous consequences. This is a tale of savagery, mysticism, and madness among characters who are at once larger than life and hauntingly human. Vlacil's struggle to edit a vast amount of material into a 2-1/2 hour film resulted in a narrative that is more poetic than it is linear, like a dream of an ancient age.