Franz Kafka was one of the most important writers of the 20th Century. (He’s also one of the best – if you haven’t read any of his work, seek out his short stories.) Like many great artists, however, he never experienced this fame – in fact, he intended that all his work be burned after his death, and his friend choosing to ignore his dying wishes is the only reason we have many of them today. He had his joys, his challenges, and his fair share of suffering, he channeled them into his art, and he died; now, we’ve turned his name into an adjective. What does a life like that mean?
Franz, the new film from director Agnieszka Holland, attempts to answer that question in some intriguing ways. Parts of his story are told through traditional means, with an actor playing Kafka in dramatized moments of his life. Sometimes, that contained movie-world cracks open. We see imagined versions of Kafka’s stories. Figures from his life turn and address the camera to comment on his life, as if semi-omniscient narrators. And tour groups of all kinds are shown learning about his legacy in present-day Prague; Kafka even feels their eyes on him every once in a while.
Holland’s approach is bold, but not entirely effective. All these different elements are juxtaposed, but rarely do they collide in ways that could create sparks. Even when a given scene is dramatically or formally interesting, it feels as if something vital is missing, and the minutiae of the writer’s daily life are never truly connected to the bigger picture. As a result, Franz‘s musings on the idea of legacy don’t feel particularly insightful.
Franz Can’t Get Its Best Elements To Work Together
In Franz, as in real life, Kafka (Idan Weiss) is a bit of an odd duck. But the pressures that shape his life are relatable. He’s a sensitive soul who thinks and feels deeply about the world around him, but is also largely out of step with it. He’s the polar opposite of his brute of a father (Peter Kurth), who doesn’t hesitate to lay his parental disappointment on thick. He’s bored by his work in insurance and desperate for the silence, both inward and outward, that allows him to write. He suffers from chronic migraines. He’s prone to romantic and sexual longing, and far more comfortable expressing himself in letters.
The performances are strong, Weiss’ especially…
Through the film’s ostensibly biographical lens, we watch him grapple with all these things, but Holland always has one eye on Kafka’s literature. Sometimes, whether visually or in dialogue, those works and their ideas bubble up into the narrative. Franz is reaching for an understanding of how this man achieved his worldview – how fleeting moments of concentrated feeling, like being frightened by a shadow in childhood or tickled by the institutional absurdity of his workplace, could become pillars of what it now means to be “Kafkaesque.” But they feel more like flickers than fully formed thoughts.
It’s curious: The performances are strong, Weiss’ especially, and the movie’s most effective moments are often the more straightforward, dramatic scenes that lean on the actors. Of all Franz‘s scenes, the one that will stick with me the most is an episode from later in Kafka’s life, when he crosses paths with his translator and eventual lover Milena Jesenská (Jenovéfa Boková). With little screentime, Boková makes you believe that a new, perhaps life-saving chapter is possible for our protagonist, and embodies genuine ache when it must be snuffed out.
Had Holland been a bit more sparing with her formal intrusions and leaned into moments like these, when Kafka’s inner life comes through so clearly, the film overall might have been more effective. At times, I found myself wishing for an approach more like Jane Campion’s An Angel at My Table, startling in its emotional clarity. Then again, I feel similarly about the inclusion of the Kafka tours. Some drove home the impact of his life and work; others simply captured the bizarre way this human being has been commercialized a century after his death. All are in their own way fascinating scenes; perhaps the greater issue with Franz is that these two halves just don’t strike up enough of a conversation.
Franz releases in theaters on Friday, August 21.
- Release Date
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September 25, 2025
- Runtime
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127 minutes
- Director
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Agnieszka Holland
- Writers
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Marek Epstein
- Producers
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Kevan Van Thompson, Jeff Field, Mike Downey, Daniel Bergmann, Šárka Cimbalová
Cast
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Peter Kurth
Hermann Kafka
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Katharina Stark
Ottla Kafka
