01/07/2025 - Jan Saska’s latest short hurtles us through the streets of Prague on a quest to keep the beer flowing

Beer fizzes, sloshes and hits the bottom of the glass like a bomb. In Jan Saska’s short film Hurikán, our porcine protagonist faces down police, thieves and his own spinning head, all to quench his thirst for a cold pint. Following its world premiere at Annecy where it won the audience award for short films, this beer-fuelled quest continued its winning streak at Anifilm in Liberec, winning both the Liberec Region Award (audience award) and Best Czech Short/Feature Film.

We first encounter the titular Hurikán’s obsession in rapturous slow motion, feeling the same spell that holds him captive as liquid sloshes in a glass. Standing alone at a local stand in Prague, smoking a cigarette, the bartender leans in to light her own cigarette with his flame. As their ends touch, his eyes pop, and for a moment he’s under a different influence. Beer finds competition with romantic interest, and this forms the central conflict within the tough-looking yet tender main character.

Hurikán cuts a distinctive figure: the only pig in a world of humans, with his name emblazoned on the back of his leather jacket, a pierced ear and tusks – all complementing his punk aesthetic. This outsider status is used for comedic effect, allowing him to step into bizarre situations and remain unruffled. When the keg sputters empty, he reaches for another beer in the fridge, upending the remaining bottles in the process and bidding a slow, pained retreat across the bar. So begins his quest – not just for beer, but to save face with the bartender who now has customers but no drinks to serve them.

These parallel paths are connected through an initially diegetic soundtrack as she slides a cassette into the player, launching us into Hurikán’s nocturnal odyssey through the streets of Prague. The city is realised in black-and-white with 2D hand-drawn animation bringing life to the many characters he meets, from unhelpful security guards to coked-up tough guys. The high-tempo rock track keeps the potential romantic connection alive, while directly linking each moment to their main rival: oblivion in a glass. Will the night’s events end like so many others, or will this one be different?

Beer soon lands Hurikán in trouble. Events snowball until he’s being chased by the police and the connecting music fades out. Repeated wide shots pull back to show the sprawling city, as if an empty keg truly has ramifications throughout all of Prague. In Hurikán’s world, it does.

It’s not the keg but Hurikán’s decisions, and his ability to choose something beyond the next pint, that determine his fate and that of those around him. There is a city full of people and within it, a bartender keeps her shop open late with no beer to sell and only the hope of seeing him to keep her company. Ultimately, they both pay the price of his addiction; it’s felt in unrealised moments and empty spaces, something that stings more than any late-night blunder.

The film has a dry sense of humour, with Hurikán’s early reverence for the pint captured with such wonder, and his subsequent misfortunes so complete and total, that his central vice nearly dissolves within the action. Yet beneath the comedy lies a melancholy. The melodic score that introduced us to Hurikán’s affection for beer takes on a sadder note as we revisit the moment, yet Saska never lets the mood turn truly dark.

While touching on themes of addiction and missed connections, Hurikán remains light-hearted throughout. As the headache of the night before wears off, the film also reminds us of the good times that led there – and perhaps, the possibility that tomorrow might unfold differently.