The connections to silent cinema are stronger than ever in Jiri Menzel's latest film, in the beginning we even get mock-silent footage and intertitles, gags and pratfalls, and the protagonist is a Buster Keaton figure, dexterous and athletic and unperturbed by the world around him gliding through life untouched as though in a dream. I don't want to say that I don't like it because the German invasion of Czechoslovakia is treated as casually and irreverently, there's even a time and place for making light of war, and to the extent that the film's protagonist, the naive waiter at an upscale hotel in Prague, is swayed to one side or the other by apathy, good fortune, and innocence, Menzel is saying something about Czechoslovakia's attitude towards the Nazi occupying force. In a subtle way this is as much a political film as Closely Watched Trains. When Hitler's speech in the Reichstag announcing the impending invasion is played in the radio, our waiter promptly switches station to a light dance tune. But we're shown other Czechs too, who resisted in their own ways, like the Mait'r D' of the hotel (who Served the King of England) and his contempt towards German customers. Near the end a train of boxcars filled with people takes off and there's no mistake what the final stop for the people inside will be.Also curious is to me is the sharp juxtaposition between the waiter when he comes out of prison 15 years later a lonely man with sunken cheeks, and his younger self, who feels like a star of silent cinema, a figment of fantasy, and never like a human being. Or maybe not even sharp but jarring, in the sense that I can't quite figure out how the man we see come out of prison emerged out of what he used to be.You said something in your description about 'being delighted' with the film, and that's spot on on the reaction Menzel is trying to elicit, also probably why I didn't like it. 'Being delighted' by a film happens very rarely to me. I'm not wired that way and it's just not a part of how I watch movies or why, sad bitter bastard that I am. It probably explains why I'm not the biggest fan of satire, of which there is plenty here. Still I smiled in a few spots, so there might be hope for me.

it's hard to write a review about this film without using spoilers. I won't do so, though, for I feel it would be more or less criminal to diminish your enjoyment by giving away its storyline prematurely.'I served the King of England' is a Czech film, produced in a way only residents of this middle-European country can do. Its refined tongue-in-cheek-humor is pushed to the extreme all through. Fully embedded in a coherent plot with many unexpected twists and other surprises. Marvellously evoking the spirit of its times. With good acting and competent shooting.However, 'Obsluhoval jsem anglickeho krale' (= its original Czech title) may be too subtle for American taste. And a little historical knowledge about former Czechoslovakia comes in handy as well.Whatever, there can be no doubt that producer Jiri Menzel left us with a great film. In a true middle/East European style its pace isn't too fast, allowing you every opportunity to enjoy.

When we first see Jan Dite he is an older man being released from a Czech communist prison. In a bit of gentle humor we learn how fortunate he is. An amnesty has set him free, after he only served 14 years and seven months of a 15-year sentence. His crime? That and other things we'll learn in this picaresque, softly ironic, slightly sarcastic comedy of Nazis and Communists, of getting along and of knowing when to move on. I Served the King of England is a marvelous movie by Jiri Menzel, the Czech director who gave us Closely Watched Trains 40 years earlier. While elements of the plot are discussed, there aren't any serious spoilers. Jan Dite is a young man with all the innocence and practical self-interest of a hungry puppy. He is played by Ivan Barney, short, slim, with blond hair, blue eyes, and a face that, one person said, resembles a mix of, when young, Mikhail Baryshnikov, Roman Polanski and Derek Jacobi. One thing for sure, he's a fine actor. We meet the young man while he's selling sausages at a Czechoslovakia train station in the Thirties. Already he has developed techniques to increase his profit, but he's so earnest, so shy and sly, and so open about it all that we can't help encouraging him. When he realizes even the wealthy will get down on their knees to scrabble after a few coins, he knows he can do just as well as they do. His determination to be a millionaire takes hold. In his climb to success we're with him as he becomes a drinks server and table cleaner in a beer hall, a young man of all duties in a plush resort hotel for the very rich, and a waiter in the dining room of the Hotel Paris, the most beautiful hotel in Prague. Along the way we track his encounters with the arrogant, the wealthy, the helpful and a number of gorgeous prostitutes who service the elderly men who have money. There are voluptuous meals that include oysters, small birds, snails and naked girls, and Jan serves them all. He develops a talent for gracefully dancing around tables holding trays filled with full plates high above his head...and for decorating the naked tummies of lovely women with flowers, or currency, or even the left-over delicacies of a dinner. Roasted pineapple rings were never put to better use. Then the director takes Jan and us into Hitler's takeover of Czechoslovakia, a marriage to a Sudeten lass who is so dedicated to the cause she gazes passionately at a photo of Hitler while poor Jan tries mightily to help make a baby. We visit Jan at work during the war, a wonderful vacation spot run by Himmler where naked Aryan young ladies gambol in the nude, waiting for scientifically selected studly soldiers to impregnate them so that there will be more perfect little blond babies for the Reich. The place soon will be used as a rehabilitation center for soldiers back from the Eastern front with missing limbs. Jan is there, serving and watching them all. But thanks to many valuable stamps taken from the empty homes of Polish Jews by his wife, who left to serve at the front, eventually Jan has his dream come true...he becomes a millionaire after the war, and one who, no less, now owns the Hotel Paris. Jan's basic innocence doesn't prepare him for Communism. At least Jan succeeds in one thing, achieving the company of other millionaires. I Served the King of England is satire, but gently served and with an appealing person in the young Jan Dite (and Dite means "child" in Czech), Picaresque it is, with imaginings of fast footwork, delighted sex, unexpected adventures, innocent opportunism and a funny and delightful score. Much like Closely Watched Trains, there are times when the reality of some of the situations is not amusing. I Served the King of England is that rare movie, a thing to thorough enjoy, with some deftly planted barbs so sharp you scarcely feel them. For something akin to the spirit of the music score, not exactly but with that love for old- style swing, go to YouTube, type in Ondrej Havelka and then click to play the video short "Me To Tady Nebavi." Havelka is a contemporary band leader and singer (and tap dancer) who recreates Czech swing using the appearance of old fashioned style film clips. Bring your love for the offbeat with you.

I already had had a hectic day when I watched J'AI SERVI LE ROI D'ANGLETERRE. I've heard of Czech movies, even saw most of the Milos Forman's, but this Menzel was my first. For reasons stated above, I dozed several times during the first half, which others consider as the best. Then I was caught in by the action, and enjoyed this very imaginative movie, and was even moved when the postage stamps were blown by the fire wind. However, I think there were a few flaws, such as the "coitum abruptus", but I'd rather yield on the subject, because I am sure the Czecks (and the Slovaks)know the subject better. I wonder if they are not in a rush to see the end of 2008, after what they got in 1938 (Sudeten crisis), 1948 (Communism) and 1968 (Soviet Tanks in Prague). I will certainly give this movie a second chance and even buy a DVD, if there is one existing. harry carasso, Paris, France