Gypsies gives way to the supernatural

Women in childbirth and houses rise from the ground, objects slide across flat surfaces with provocation from neither the wind nor human touch, and seemingly dying children are almost instantly cured. All of this can and does happen in the magical world of The Time of the Gypsies.

The magical quality of the film lies both in its action and cinematography. The beauty of the images on the screen is itself magical, and helps to entrance the viewer enough that he can suspend disbelief. The movie turns the most rational viewer into a temporary mystic, so that he can put himself in the culture of the film's Yugoslavian gypsy community, where the supernatural is a part of everyday life. The supernatural is so banal to the characters of the movie that although Perhan, the protagonist, can make objects move when he stares at them, he draws no respect for his talent. He cannot marry Azra, the girl he loves, because her mother will not consent to her marriage to a boy with such an unmarketable, useless skill.

While the action and cinematography provide the conceptual and visual beauty which successfully place the viewer into the flow of the film, the music does so through aural stimulation. It can do this all the more effectively because as with the magical scenes it is placed within the logic of the film's action. Perhan is always playing the same melancholy gypsy tune on the accordion.

For all of its beauty and magic, The Time of the Gypsies is at best a partial cinematic success. Director Emir Kusturica�s creation seems to have dazzled him so much that he could not bring himself to cut an unnecessary half hour or so from the film. After the film's promising beginning, set in the village where Perhan lives with his grandmother, a healer and a symbol of good, Kusturica introduces a symbol of bad.

Ahmed is a rich underworld kingpin who takes Perhan to Italy, where he puts him to work to help pay the costs of his sister's operation. During the rest of the film Perhan's soul is the terrain for a fight between good and evil, with the good pushed along through his grandmother�s influence, and the evil promoted by Ahmed. A too large part of this struggle is the long, drawn-out middle section of the movie which depicts Perhan�s corruption in Italy.

If Ahmed's presence merely corrupted Perhan, it would be fine; but it unfortunately corrupts the whole film. By the time he utters his last line, a film which shows so much promise during its first half-hour has diminished. A conclusion which is both visually and conceptually stimulating almost salvages it once more, but even this is too long. The net result of all of the highs and lows is an interesting but irritatingly self-indulgent film with some beautiful moments.

The Time of the Gypsies shows tonight at Kettering Hall at 7:30 and 10 p.m. $1.