Surviving Life (Theory and Practice)

In a city rendered with meticulous paper‑cutout animation, an aging man named Eugene drifts between two distinct realms. By day he moves through the ordinary rhythms of work, family, and routine, but each night he slips into a vivid, surreal dreamscape that feels as concrete as his waking world. The visual style is deliberately uncanny, blending the handcrafted texture of stop‑motion with a quiet, almost whispering narration that invites the viewer to linger on the texture of each frame rather than on fast‑paced plot mechanics.

Eugene’s split existence becomes a source of both curiosity and unease, prompting him to seek guidance from a psychoanalyst, Dr. Holubová. Their conversations float between classic Freudian symbolism and contemporary ideas about lucid dreaming, offering a contemplative lens through which the audience can consider the porous boundaries between memory, desire, and imagination. The film’s tone remains introspective and wistful, laced with a dry, self‑deprecating humor that softens its more meditative moments, while the soundscape—soft rustles, distant city hums, and occasional surreal musical cues—deepens the sense of a world half‑remembered.

At home, Milada, his wife, grounds Eugene in the tangible present, embodying the familiar stability he both leans on and quietly resists. Their dynamic underscores the central tension of the story: the pull between lived experience and the alluring pull of inner reverie. As the narrative unfolds, the audience is invited to wonder how far one can travel within the mind without losing sight of the world outside, and whether the act of dreaming can become a purposeful pathway to uncovering long‑forgotten childhood memories and the deeper truths behind his parents’ lives. The film balances a gently absurd visual playground with a heartfelt exploration of identity, making the ordinary feel extraordinary and the dreamscape feel achingly real.

Last Updated: October 07, 2025 at 13:32