Transylvania

If you’re the sort of person who feels there wasn’t nearly enough angst in Head On then Tony Gatlif’s hysterical drama is the arthouse flick for you. Seemingly determined to trounce Optimus Prime and friends on the decibel front, Asia Argento stars as a shrewish young French woman who travels to the eponymous Romanian region in search of her recently deported lover. When she finds him he admits that he left France, entirely unmolested by immigration authorities, in order to escape her clutches.
Now pregnant with his child, Ms. Argento reacts with characteristic fury. She screams. She smashes perfectly innocent plates. She punches unsuspecting walls. She screams some more. And so it goes. An hour passes in this manner.
She gives away her money and drifts about. She befriends an itinerant girl. The child, in turn, runs away prompting another bout of bad behaviour. The locals perform an exorcism. A travelling pawnbroker unexpectedly takes pity on her. Rough and tumble sex soon follows. Playing cultural tourists by proxy, they drive around taking in local gypsy customs. Damn. We were hoping for vampires, not Borat blanched of all humour.
Where exactly are we going with this? Goodness knows. We hardly needed Ms. Argento to demonstrate her intensity in this manner. It’s not like we might have missed it before. Her powerhouse performance seems out of place in a film that falls somewhat short in the story department. The incidentals are, of course, colourful and it’s a fine looking picture. But you might be forgiven for wondering why everyone can’t just calm down over a nice cup of Pálinka.