Director: Klára Tasovská
Writers: Klára Tasovská, Alexander Kashcheev, Lukás Kokes
Stars: Libuše Jarcovjáková
Synopsis: Czech photographer seeks freedom after 1968 Prague Spring suppression and undertakes long journey to break from repressive regime’s constraints.
It is rare when, within a well understood genre, we see something that simply feels new. There are few examples, but they exist: Mad Max: Fury Road as an action film, Oppenheimer as a biopic, Flow as an animated film. Whatever you think these movies should be rated, it seems inarguable that they are, in one way or another, breaking new ground. Documentaries can be a bit of harder nut to crack, but one that comes to mind is Soundtrack To A Coup D’etat from 2024. Because the form is so focused on truth and sometimes overreliant on the talking head style, there can be a lack of boundary pushing. But that cannot be said of I’m Not Everything I Want To Be.
This film follows an artist whom I knew nothing about going in. Libuše Jarcovjáková is a photographer from what used to be termed The Czech Republic. But this is not your standard biopic showing a rise and fall of a great artist. Instead, it is a journey of self-discovery. Honestly, it shows us a journey that is ongoing for all of us and will be until our dying day, or longer depending on your belief systems. Aided by her photographs and words from her detailed diaries, we are treated to the portrait of an artist who is constantly unsure and sometimes completely disconnected, even from her artform.
Director Klára Tasovská has an absolute treasure trove to work from, as Jarcovjáková seems to have documented nearly her entire life, both public and private. She and editor Alexander Kashcheev have created a minor miracle by creating movement from still images. Kascheev is also the sound designer, which is what brings I’m Not Everything I Want To Be to another level entirely. As the film travels through her life, due to movement of photo to photo, combined with the impeccable sound design, we feel like we are not only in the room with her, but in her head, as well.
Being in Jarcovjáková’s head is another advantage that the material gives the film. Constantly, and in different ways, we feel her struggle to become herself. To be the person she is meant to be and, more importantly, live the life that she wants to live. We find this through her thoughts as a young person, through an abortion, through sexual relationships, and through her travels. As she travels to Japan, her world finally begins to open up. It is important to remember that she experienced the Soviet invasion of Prague, which led to constant restrictions and a contained life. We feel her desperate to break out, even to the level of traveling without governmental permission.
Unsurprisingly, she feels not in control of her life. And further, not in control of her body or her self. As we are shown images of her body, there is a sense of disconnection, as if she is confused by who she is and where she fits. This is one of her many foci and, even without her words, there is a sense of unease and worry. Despite this concern, there is also a sense of exploration in her visual work and her diaries. She often puts things plainly, but without providing excessive detail. What we are seeing is her process, her gift, almost as if she had no plans to show this to the public. We throw the word “brave” around a lot. But to open your deepest, most private thoughts, along with your actual produced work takes a sense of openness that we can all learn from.
Every great once in a while, a film within a genre breaks out of its structures. As much as I enjoyed learning about Libuše Jarcovjáková and her beautiful work, it was almost more impressive to engage in the power of movement and sound from Klára Tasovská and Alexander Kashcheev. Through their direction and editing, we have been able to see the inside of a powerful journey of the self.
