Word: flamencos
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...modern Barcelona, the feud of two passionate gypsy clans, the Tarantos and the Zorongos, provides a turbulent prologue to the first meeting of young Rafael and Juana at a wedding feast. Dark eyes burn, hands slap out flamenco rhythm, bare feet pound the golden dust: thus Director Rovira-Beleta wordlessly launches a tale of love at first sight with an excitement that Shakespeare himself might envy. Later he tries too many tricky variations on the familiar story line, occasionally becoming somewhat incoherent, but his feel for Spanish gypsy folkways never falters. The tragedy mounts while men, women and children dance...
Tough Ideas. Ferré has such melodic facility that his songs can drift from one mode to another without the slightest misstep: a melody will slip into passages that suggest fado or flamenco or Orthodox church music, then emerge again for a major-key resolution. Ferré has written some lovely love songs, but most of his ideas are tough, and he does not mince words-as in Monsieur Tout-Blanc, his pre-Deputy attack on the Pope...
...anything funny about this situation." And there's the rub. Or the rash. To help Hope out in the pinches, a group of seductresses billed as The Global Girls troops through: Yvonne De Carlo as a Spanish floozy whose secret weapon is flamenco; Lilo Pulver as a brusque, weepy vodkaholic making a case for the U.S.S.R.; Miiko Taka as an ah-so Geisha who offers back rubs and hot saki; and Elga Andersen as a French fille de joie who waives her diplomatic immunity in pajama tops. True love is the Belgian lass (Michele Mercier), a high-minded guide...
Pyro glosses over its terror with a sort of Hitchcock-and-bull story photographed in Spain in flamenco hues and laved in bucketfuls of blue butane gas. The film casts Barry Sullivan as a philanderer who becomes a firebug when cast-off Playmate Martha Hyer sends his house up in flame. His wife and daughter dead, Barry survives, a hideously deformed monster with a "carbonized" brain. Crazed, hunted, vowing fiery vengeance, he hides behind a mask that inexplicably looks just like his old self. To keep the movie's audience from straying out for a smoke, there are some...
Singing a laryngeal ragout, Franchi booms out Shenandoah, Arrivederci Roma, an aria from Tosca, a flamenco number, even Chicago in Italian. He is a tall, thin fellow who begins stiffly but soon has his tie and jacket off and his shirt unbuttoned. His big tenor has baritone depth. It lacks the bel canto sweetness of high operatic stature, but it has a lot of impressive thunder. "Most people have never been in an opera house," says Sergio's musical director...