Before the nightmarish taxidermy and Jungian symbolism of Jan Švankmajer and the irreverent surrealism of Terry Gilliam came Czech film director, artist, production designer and animator Karel Zeman. Over the course of thirty years, Zeman produced a series of accessible, witty and imaginative fantasies. Zeman had a preoccupation with the stories of Jules Verne and Rudolf Erich Raspe and the films of Georges Méliès. In particular, in three films, Invention for Destruction (1958), Baron Prášil (1961) and The Jesters Tale (1964), he formulated a style and an approach that was both distinctive, innovative and, curiously, nostalgic.

Invention for Destruction is the adaptation of a number of Jules Verne stories most notably Facing the Flag (1896). The stand out feature of this film is the distinctive visual style mimicking the line drawings from the books. The film is a mash-up of fantastical scenarios and moves between difference animation styles – but the skill of the director is such that it never jars. Zeman creates an unlikely coherent universe that draws you in and means that however wild or off-the-rails the plot gets you stay on board.

Baron Prášil is perhaps the most accomplished of the three films. It tells a version of the Baron Munchhausen story. Like Invention for Destruction it draws (surprisingly) on Verne, starting out on the moon, where an cosmonaut lands. There he encounters a variety of historical and literary figures including Prášil and Cyrano de Bergerac. From there, Prášil and the cosmonaut travel (time travel) to the 18th century and have a series of adventures in Constantinople. Again, Zeman generates a coherent universe out of a mash up of source materials, this time with a visual style appropriate for the period setting. Zeman’s approach to literature reminds me of Philip José Farmer’s Wold Newton mythology, an umbrella narrative that draws together pulp fiction characters including Sherlock Holmes and Tarzan.

Finally, The Jesters Tale takes us back to the Thirty Years’ War with a comedy that is, on the surface, simpler than the previous two films. This simplicity is deceptive however:  The Jesters Tale is perhaps Zeman’s most pointed political satire. As with many Czech directors (including Věra Chytilová and Miloš Forman) Zeman masks his critique of the Soviet domination of Czechoslovakia with absurdist plots and imagery. In this case, Zeman presents the war as a pointless endeavour in which both sides blend into the other. His heroes, two deserters and a local villager, drift between the sides making a mockery of the formality and ceremony of the armies. Again, the visual style suits the period, but with this film (my personal favourite of the three) the elegant leanness of the plot makes the comedy sing.

All three films are short and undemanding – but also sweet and escapist. The focus that Zeman demonstrates – his commitment to his source materials and his ability to generate fantasy that feels consistent is what really makes him stand out as a great director.