Juraj Herz was drawn to Jaroslav Havlíček’s inter-war novel by the author’s profound psychological study of his characters, predominantly tragic heroes living a seemingly quiet life in a sleepy provincial town, yet internally consumed by torturous secrets, wasted desire and emotional traumas. Reflected in the bleak fate of the courageous and likable Štěpa Kiliánová, however, the director found another of the themes which play key roles in his film work. Instead of fulfilling her dream to become a wife and mother, Štěpa ends up with a syphilitic husband. Herz saw this as a variation of the harrowing contradiction between desire and reality, whose consequences so often mark his heroes for life. It was also in the contempt and ridicule which the young woman incites, first through her spontaneous rebellion against restrictive conventions, and later through her fearless loyalty to her sick husband, that he saw confirmation of his cynicism with regard to people’s ability to understand those around them, feel compassion for them and to judge them fairly. These reflections are, of course, mediated here in purely cinematic terms and with emphasis on the artistic stylisation which co-creates the sense of the story. The atmosphere of a well-ordered, smart provincial environment at the turn of the 20th century is conveyed through the concept of the false idyll: the undercurrents are polluted and threaten to engulf anything in their midst; exquisite Sezession clothes are worn by unscrupulous brutes, simpletons and egoists; and sweet melodies provide a counterpoint to the scathing words of evil tongues. With Oil Lamps, Herz sealed his reputation as a master of the psychological film, and the performances of Iva Janžurová and Petr Čepek became the stuff of legend.