Franz Kafka is a master at giving the absurd an even more absurd form without losing the logic of the narrative, which is paradoxical at its core. All this is expressed in boundless imaginary images and plots, seasoned with the tragedy of human existence: the impossibility of escaping the loneliness to which a person is doomed from birth. I will focus on two works, The Metamorphosis and The Castle, or rather on their screen adaptations.

Fokin’s The Metamorphosis, starring Yevgeny Mironov, is best watched after reading the book. Many details are left out, as the director presents his own vision and treats the protagonist’s tragedy as an illustration of a mental affliction he is unable to speak about, since, struck by it, he cannot use speech or anything else to communicate with his loved ones. And all because he has become an insect. What distinguishes him from a mentally ill person is that he understands everything but can neither tell nor show it. What distinguishes him from an insect is that he hears and sees what is going on around him. He resembles an insect, but he is not one.

But where is the real insect? Not obvious, hidden, present in passing, between the lines. That is what one has to find for oneself, in the book or in the film.

Balabanov’s The Castle is the best screen adaptation of Kafka’s novel. It masterfully conveys the atmosphere of gloomy idiocy combined with a medieval aesthetic and the writer’s irony. A superb, stylish film.