Year: 2024

Runtime: 117 minutes

Directed by: Matěj Chlupáček 

Written by: Miro Šifra

Starring: Eliška Křenková, Miloslav König, Luboš Veselý, Milan Ondrík, Richard Langdon, Ján Jackuliak

By Sarah Manvel

This Czech-Slovak co-production is highly unusual and not just in its marketing through-line of a woman investigating a crime in Slovakia in 1937. Its real subject is how society then and society now deals with intersex people – that is to say, people whose bodies are neither one sex nor the other, but an individualised combination of both. “We Have Never Been Modern” does not center the intersex character, but instead the character who is curious and honest about all things. An own-voice version of this story would have been a different movie, but as the title makes clear, perhaps we aren’t quite ready for that yet. But instead this is a sparky and thoughtful movie which handles its sensitive topics with a care that surprises both as a history lesson and as a mirror for our current selves.  

It’s an important week in the lives of happily married couple, the witty Helena Hauptová (Eliška Křenková) and the more serious Alois Haupt (Miloslav König). Alois is the manager of a textile factory that has been built from scratch in a new town in the Slovak wilds. Helena dropped out of medical school on her marriage but still runs the factory infirmary under the oversight of her only local friend, Dr Kubák (Luboš Veselý). More importantly she is imminently due to have her first baby and her quick humor goes a long way to contribute to her refusal to be fussed over, even though she’s the only woman who’s part of the factory management. The costume work here does a great deal to separate Helena, who drives a blue car and always wears blue dresses, from the other women at the factory, who dress in red. In addition to the baby, this week they are expecting a visit from the factory owners, which will determine not only Alois’ future career but also the jobs of everyone in the town. There is great general confidence the handsome and charming Alois will enable it all to go well – until there is a horrible discovery in the factory ground.

It’s the body of a baby. And not just any baby, but one which was called a hermaphrodite then and intersex now. The workers who made the grim discovery are all sworn to secrecy, which of course doesn’t happen, but Helena takes it upon herself to use her medical training to investigate for a few reasons. Could something in the factory have caused the baby’s condition, which would therefore mean her own is at risk? The owners believe the body was planted by communists out to sabotage the factory, and send in a few investigators – namely the sly Robert (Milan Ondrík) – to board with the Haupts until the local troublemakers are flushed out. But since Helena saw the little body, she knows it couldn’t have been snuck in, so eventually realises it had to have been born inside the factory itself. And that leads her to the only worker who was sick that day: Saša (Richard Langdon), a young man with a rough beard and a rough manner. Through Helena’s medical authority and her frank kindness, it quickly becomes apparent that Saša was indeed the person who gave birth. Saša is in so much pain he’s grateful for her help, so the question then becomes what Helena is going to do about her discovery. 

The discussions between Helena and Dr Kubák, Helena and her husband, the management team, and then later between Helena and Saša’s father (Ján Jackuliak) are striking only in that they could be taking place this minute instead of nearly a hundred years ago. Knowledge of intersex people – as well as what Saša’s father remembers of one of his uncles – has always been there, as have the people themselves. For his own part Saša is not particularly interested in analysing his differences. He just wants a normal life like everybody else, and had been hoping to find that in the factory town away from the farming village where he was raised. On the other hand, sometimes it’s better to be around people who remember what it was like when you were born and who accept you as you are. Helena is most interested in enabling Saša to live his best life, but her honesty about this with Alois backfires. He loves his wife very much exactly as she is – and Mr König is very good at making sure we understand that – but he’s also a businessman, with hundreds of jobs to consider as well as his own career. And of course the future is unknown, only referenced when the creepy Robert says Hitler is a local firebrand but nothing more. 

The English title is the same as a book, published by French philosopher Bruno Latour, about the distinction the modern world makes between raw nature and curated society. In choosing this as the movie’s international title, director Matěj Chlupáček is making the point that intersex people show no such distinction exists. We have to accept that the world is not only two things, but much more than most of us normally imagine. And if this can be imagined by illiterate Slovak farmworkers born in the 19^th century, it can be imagined by us, too. Ms Křenková’s work does a huge amount to ensure we feel the modernity of the question, for Helena is a full person with her own mind, whether driving her car through the mountains or singing along to the phonograph as she does chores at home. Ms Křenková’s funny, playful performance – all the more surprising in a character who’s nine months pregnant – goes a long way to bring the audience onto her side as Helena looks at the world around her with a commitment for the truth. Then and now, that attitude remains unusual but aspirational, and “We Have Never Been Modern”’s best achievement is the calm and curious way with which it shows us the world.

But despite its excellence, We Have Never Been Modern has not been picked up for international distribution, which emphasises the importance of film festivals in helping movies like this be seen as widely as possible.