Der weiße Mohr

Adaptation of a fairy tale by Ion Creanga. eccentric. using as lead pillar a young, seductive Florin Piersic. proposing, maybe, more a vision of Ion Popescu - Gopo . his art gives chance of strange scenes for a Communist film , good performances - Emil Botta is the best example, a fascinating confrontation between Harap Alb and Span , the last in interesting performance of Cristea Avram. a film with the virtue to remain not exactly great but good support for a nice evening. for what who could be defined as courage, imagination, beautiful costumes and fine humor. and, sure, for few other details.

nothing new. a young Florin Piersic is perfect actor to seduce Romania of 1965. and the art of unique Gopo to give force, humor and sparkles to an old story , the genius of Ion Creangă and the dark character - Spânul - nuanced in Cristea Avram interpretation is good point to sustain fantasy and taste of childhood. nothing surprised. the movie, out of charm, it is slice of a period. an exercise of freedom in a dictatorship. and expression of small shadow of freedom. to tell profound truth must have a good instrument. the fairy tale is perfect. as mask, as word of jester, as naive gesture to describe a world.a parody of a seductive page of Romanian literature. and a great director full of joy of game.

Every so often, a film comes along that turns visual excess into an art form. Think of Alla Nazimova's flamboyant Art Nouveau film of Salome in 1922, or Vincente Minnelli's kitsch musical fantasy Yolanda and the Thief in 1946. Spare a thought for Boom! and Secret Ceremony, two 1968 Joseph Losey films with Liz Taylor, or the camp disco extravaganza that was Flash Gordon - the 1980 Mike Hodges remake. It is pointless to complain that such films are over the top. In this very special realm of cinema, there is no 'top' to be had.

Into this small but select group now strides Harap Alb, a rare live action fairy tale by Romania's celebrated animator Ion Popescu Gopo. Adapted from a folk legend, it tells the story of a bad-tempered nobleman and his chronically useless younger son - who dreams of being the mythical hero Harap Alb. This boy is the type for whom the phrase 'pretty but dumb' might have been invented. Incarnated by 60s Romanian heart-throb Florin Piersic, he's a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, full-muscled, empty-headed cross between the 1980 Flash Gordon and Stephen Carrington, the gay son on Dynasty.

Never one to let a lack of brain cells stand in his way, our hero sets off on a knightly quest - only to fall under the spell of another man! Not just any man, but a wicked and sneeringly handsome black-haired demon played by Cristea Avram. (Fans of Eurotrash may recognise him from later roles in a slew of Italian sex and horror films.) Hero and villain spend most of the film exchanging smouldering glances, parading about in provocative states of undress or preening away in silk-and-spangle outfits that Maria Montez would die to wear! Honestly, Harap Alb may rival Ivan the Terrible as the most homoerotic film ever shot under a Stalinist dictatorship.

Their adventures take this dynamic duo to any number of picturesque locales. A Woodstock-era Medieval court, where comely maidens gyrate in fluorescent mauve and turquoise wigs and spangly water nymphs emerge out of the wall. An underground S&M torture cell guarded by hooded musclemen in studded black-leather loincloths. Our hero acquires one sidekick who can drink rivers dry at a single gulp, and another who can freeze fire with his breath. It all seems to end wholesomely enough - our hero in a clinch with a water nymph - but I still have my suspicions about him and that dark-haired demon. Or is that just me?