‘Broken Voices’ review: Powerful Czech choir drama is loosely based on real-life abuse scandal

Dir/scr: Ondrej Provaznik. Czech Republic/Slovak Republic. 2025. 105mins.

Thirteen-year-old Karolina (Katerina Falbrova) is overjoyed when she is picked for a prestigious girls’ choir, joining her older sister Lucie (Maya Kintera). Soon, her pure, crystalline voice and eagerness to please catch the attention of formidable and charismatic choirmaster Vitek (Juraj Loj). But Karolina soon learns the power that Vitek wields is sometimes abused, and the attention he lavishes comes at a considerable cost. Set in the early 1990s in the Czech Republic – a time of widening horizons and cultural pride in the country – this powerful child’s-eye view of an abusive adult is loosely based on a real case, the Bambini di Praga sex abuse scandal, which came to light in 2004.

A sensitively structured psychological drama

Broken Voices follows Ondrej Provaznik’s 2019 feature Old-Timers (co-directed with Martin Dusek), which won several Czech Lions (the pair also made 2010 documentary Coal In The Soul). This sensitively structured psychological drama benefits from first-rate casting (newcomer Falbrova is particularly impressive), and should find plenty of interest on the festival circuit. It may also figure in the awards conversation. Distributor interest is not out of the question, however the picture’s chances might be slightly stymied by the fact it launches in the same year as Urska Djukic’s similarly themed (and more distinctive) Little Trouble Girls, in which a new member of a Catholic school choir in Slovenia falls foul of the overbearing choirmaster.

Gangly and a little ungainly, Karolina has an unsteady foal-like quality that is exacerbated by her mane of hair and the fringe that covers her eyes. She looks up to her 15-year-old sister: Lucie is worlds away in terms of sophistication and, as a member of the chosen few singers that get to perform for the public, she has a thrillingly informal relationship with the choirmaster, who permits the elite choir members to call him by his first name. During a party to celebrate the choir’s success, Karolina watches, wistful and invisible on the sidelines, while the older girls haul Vitek onto the dancefloor and squeal with excitement when he obliges with a few slick dance moves.

But the charming off-duty Vitek is a different beast to the man who bullies and belittles the members of his choir. Peering over a balcony while her sister rehearses, Karolina watches as one of the girls is singled out for a brutal dressing-down for her lack of commitment and sent home in tearful disgrace. For Karolina, it is a fortuitous turn of events. The girl quits rehearsals and Karolina is invited to try out for the slot, and potentially join the choir on a tour of the US. Her extreme youth and innocence makes her vulnerable, both to the riptide tensions that churn among the girls and to Vitek’s whims.

Music, not surprisingly, is central to the storytelling, with the choral performances impressive (non-professionals drawn from an actual choir make up much of the supporting cast). Elsewhere, the skittering, excitable score captures Karolina’s joy at being noticed by Vitek. A combination of evocative production design and costume choices work together with the grainy 16mm film photography to capture the ambience of the era.

Provaznik also uses rhythms and repetition to powerful effect. A recurring scene in which the sisters take the forbidden shortcut through the woods has something approaching a fairytale symbolism: there is no doubt a big bad wolf is lurking somewhere in the future.