Back to the pulse of early Ondříček

Ever since his debut, Whisper (1996), and his early breakthrough, Loners (2000), David Ondříček has been regarded as one of the defining voices of post-1990 Czech cinema, moving fluidly between contemporary ensemble stories, atmospheric drama, and historically grounded work while maintaining a focus on character and tonal precision. His works have been showered with festival laurels—Grandhotel (Berlinale Panorama, 2006); the award-winning noir In the Shadow (2012); and the biographical drama Zatopek (2021), a domestic box-office hit—earning eight Czech Lions and securing international distribution. In parallel he has extended his craft into high-end television with the period series The King of Šumava (2022–2025).

With his new feature, Don’t You Know It’s Different for Girls (working title), Ondříček returns to the present-day milieu that defined the early part of his career. “I wanted to reconnect with the films from the beginning of my career: Whisper, Loners, One Hand Can’t Clap,” he said. “To make a film about people around me, about an environment I know intimately, and about the city where I’ve lived since I was born—Prague.” After a series of large-scale period and biographical projects, this also marks a conscious shift back to contemporary storytelling. “I was a bit tired of historical projects,” Ondříček confessed. “They’re very demanding, financially and especially in terms of production and directing. I wanted to catch my breath and make a film set in the present.”

Although not directly connected to his earlier work in terms of story or continuity, the new project echoes their creative DNA. “The connection is in the point of view,” Ondříček noted. “I hope there is still the same angle, the same sense of humor and way of telling the story that I had in those early films. And I put a lot of emphasis on the visual side, the camera, the image as a way of storytelling.”

Seven lives, one question

Set in present-day Prague, Don’t You Know It’s Different for Girls follows a group of seven 30- and 40-somethings whose lives intersect as they each navigate a moment of reassessment, where long-held aspirations collide with the realities of work, relationships, and their self-perception.

At the core of the story is Martin, a 50-year-old painter who compensates for his creative insecurity with relentless self-promotion. His wife, Kamila, an artist of genuine talent, has long carried the family, both emotionally and practically, and now questions the price she has paid to maintain this stability. In a relationship parallel to Martin and Kamila’s are Daniel, a romantic idealist preparing for marriage, and Romana, a successful athlete uncertain whether she’s ready to settle into the future that they have planned. Additional narrative tension emerges through Karel, a high-achieving attorney who struggles with drug addiction, and Marek, whose carefully maintained persona begins to crumble as his younger partner, Ema, a clear-sighted journalist, outgrows him.

The film charts how these characters negotiate the moment when a person evaluates the gap between their youthful expectations and lived reality. Ondříček stressed that the theme arose organically rather than by design: “I wrote it very spontaneously, drawing on stories and situations from people around me. I simply wanted to talk about an environment and motivations I understand well.”

Prague functions not merely as a setting but an organizing force in the film’s structure. Bridges, embankments, and cultural landmarks recur as personal anchors. Ondříček described the concept as central to the film’s visual and narrative architecture: “There’s a poem by Jaroslav Seifert about Prague as a city encircled by seven bridges, and each of our seven main characters has their own bridge,” he noted.

Although the story involves seven protagonists, it isn’t constructed as a series of standalone vignettes. “It’s not a classic anthology film,” Ondříček said. “We follow separate characters, but their storylines keep connecting and influencing one another across a single stretch of time.” The structure maintains the clarity of one continuous narrative while preserving the interwoven dynamics that define ensemble storytelling.

Ensemble cast mapping a generation

True to its multi-threaded narrative, Don’t You Know It’s Different for Girls features an ensemble of established Czech actors. As Ondříček explains, “These are actors I’ve worked with for a long time, or people I’ve wanted to work with. As the screenwriter, I had the advantage of writing the roles directly for them, almost to their rhythm.” His personal and professional history with the cast shaped the ensemble from the outset, giving each part a clear dramatic and emotional direction even before production began.

Jaroslav Plesl leads the cast as Martin, the painter whose charm and bravado mask creative insecurity and personal dissatisfaction. Plesl—who has starred in a range of Ondříček’s films, as well as more experimental ventures like Cook F**k Kill and Arved—brings a calibrated mix of ego and fragility to a character whose ambitions exceed his talent. Opposite him is Martha Issová as Kamila, Martin’s wife and the true artistic force in their household. Issová, who starred in Zatopek and Michaela Pavlátová’s Night Owls, portrays a woman balancing maternal responsibility with an emerging need for self-definition. Kamila’s storyline centers on quiet misgivings: a fear that her life has become predictable and a growing realization that it may be time for her to step out of her husband’s shadow.

Denisa Barešová (Girl America, Her Body) plays Romana, a successful athlete whose outward confidence conceals unresolved doubts. Preparing for marriage to Daniel, she remains troubled by her past with Karel, a conflict that forms one of the film’s emotional hinges. As Daniel, Vojtěch Vodochodský embodies a romantic idealist, an earnest, literature-quoting believer in love as both principle and practice. Moviegoers abroad may recognize him from his breakout role in the Czech Oscar submission Waves. His portrayal here captures both the sincerity and the unintentional pressure that idealism can place on a partner who is still sorting out her own desires.

The dynamic shifts with Václav Neužil, who plays Karel, a hotshot lawyer whose cynicism and self-destructive tendencies veil deeper wounds. Neužil, known for his starring role in Zatopek and his performance in the acclaimed Czech sci-fi Restore Point, brings intensity and sharp comic timing to one of the story’s most volatile characters. Anna Kameníková appears as Ema, a young journalist unafraid to speak uncomfortable truths. As her ambition increasingly comes to outpace her partner’s, their relationship becomes a portrait of generational mismatch, emotional candor, and the difficulty of outgrowing someone you still care for. Rounding out the ensemble is Jan Nedbal as Marek, a stylish, seemingly carefree 40-year-old whose charm conceals deep-seated anxieties. After starring in Waves alongside Vodochodský, and Tomáš Mašín’s Brothers, here Nedbal plays a man questioning his identity just as his relationship begins to fracture.

Ondříček’s close rapport with the ensemble extended beyond casting to the core of the creative process. “We rehearsed for a long time,” he said. “I had an early rough version of the script, then I discussed each role with the actors individually and together. By the time we gathered for a retreat to go through the entire script, they had all contributed something of their own. They almost have an authorial share in the characters.”

A love letter to Prague

As with many of his previous projects, Ondříček served as both writer and director this time out, shaping the film in close dialogue with his creative departments. Much of the project’s identity rests in its visual approach, developed in tandem with cinematographer David Hofmann (Our Lovely Pig Slaughter), a key new collaborator. “He’s young and has an incredible sense for light,” said Ondříček. “We’re very well aligned in how we tell a story through images, something I feel is missing from many films today. This one should rely far more on visual storytelling.” That ambition informed not only the lighting and camera language, but also the selection of locations.

Ondříček personally scouted much of the film’s geography, establishing a contemporary visual palette grounded in authenticity. “Before shooting, I bought a scooter and went around the city myself,” he said. “I explored every place we were considering. Many locations appear exactly as they are, with almost no adjustments.” He also made sure to keep the production deliberately agile. “After the big historical projects, I wanted a compact team. We worked with about 40 to 45 people, not caravans and big base camps, but an action crew that could move quickly through the city.”

The score is composed by Jan P. Muchow, whose atmospheric music has shaped Ondříček’s films since Loners. Editing by Filip Malásek (Waves) supports the ensemble structure, while costume designer Marek Cpin (Broken Voices) uses wardrobe to delineate generational and personal contrasts across the seven leads.

Don’t You Know It’s Different for Girls is produced independently by Lucky Man Films, the company founded by Ondříček, with the director producing alongside Kryštof Mucha. At this stage, the project has no coproducers attached, an intentional strategy designed to maintain creative control and flexibility during development and production. The team has applied for support from the Czech Audiovisual Fund as well as the Prague Audiovisual Fund, whose mandate aligns closely with the project’s urban identity.

Principal photography wrapped in November, with picture and sound postproduction scheduled through summer 2026 and Czech theatrical release slated for fall 2026.

“We don’t have a television or distributor tied to the project at this stage, which gives us complete freedom,” said producer Kryštof Mucha. “We’ll finish the film exactly as David wants it to look, and only then show it to sales agents who follow his work and have already expressed interest in the project.”

Built on the shifting currents of Prague and those who move through it, the tragicomic Don’t You Know It’s Different for Girls sketches a portrait of midlife shaped by mismatched expectations, sudden turns, and the small truths that surface when life refuses to follow a plan. Ultimately, it is a story of people and a city finding themselves anew.