Fúria Cigana

I blush to disclose that I have not read Viktor Rydberg's romantic fairytale 'The Wind is my Lover' but I am very pleased to have stumbled across this fabulous version by the successful directing/writing team of Christian-Jaque and Pierre Very. Filmed in Swedish, French and English it chronicles the relationship between gypsy girl Singoalla and melancholy Sir Erland Maneskold which is doomed from the outset by the difference in their social status, a rival's jealousy and the curse of the Maneskold Treasure. Courtesy of cinematographer Christian Matras and production designer Robert Gys this has a wonderfully Gothic feel. One cannot but sense that in the character of the mentally fragile Sir Erland who inhabits the eerie Castle of Widows there is more than a passing nod to Edgar Allan Poe, particularly 'Fall of the House of Usher.' Swedish composer Hugo Alfven wrote in a lush late-Romantic style and his score for this suits perfectly. The acting from all is uniformly excellent. Singoalla is played by the striking and intelligent Viveca Lindfors who appears in all three versions whilst Michel Auclair is mesmerising in the difficult role of Sir Erland. Marta Dorff is effective as his mother as is Louis Seigneur as the priest. There is a touching performance by Jean-Georges Chambort as the son who tries to bring his parents together. The precious few reviews for this haunting film are all positive and justifiably so.

I saw this film when I was fifteen and have never forgotten the amosphere, the b+w images of the plague years, and the passionate love between such disparate people. After all these years I still hope to see it again either on tv or on the screen, but my searches for it in London and Paris have been in vain. In my memory it has acquired a magic niche.

Singoalla (original title) is a visually stunning film with a haunting score, truly a lost classic. It deserves to have the same reputation as Cocteau's La belle et la bête (1946). It is based on a Swedish legend of a young nobleman in a castle, Erland (Alf Kjellin), who falls in love with a gypsy girl, Singoalla (Viveca Lindfors). Erland is similar to Hamlet in many ways - lonely, unhappy, brooding. Many things go wrong for the romantic star-crossed lovers. The film has wonderful scenes in the countryside, at the castle, and at the gypsy camp; and besides the love story, viewers will also enjoy medieval fight scenes with knives and bows & arrows. There are three versions: the Swedish (over 100 minutes), the American/British (cut down to 63 minutes), and the French (over 100 minutes, with a different actor playing Erland). Only the Swedish version has been restored and reissued. The three language versions have many titles including: Singoalla (Sweden), Singoalla (France, different actor), Gypsy Fury (USA), The Wind is My Lover (UK), The Mask and the Sword (UK). Each of the three versions was edited differently and even scored slightly differently. The Swedish seems to me the most successful cut, perhaps best representing the director's original artistic intent. But all three versions are unforgettable. The Swedish DVD can be ordered from Bengans.com (select "outside the EU" if ordering from the USA). The other two versions are on Youtube but hard to find. To watch the first reel of the American/British version, search on Bing.com for "youtube Gypsy Fury viveca lindfors". To watch the entire French version search on Bing.com for "youtube Singoalla viveca lindfors". (Bing.com works better for finding Youtube videos than Youtube's own search or even Google search.) I first saw Gypsy Fury in the 1950s at age 11 on KTLA in Los Angeles. It came on again when I was 13, and I played hooky to watch it again. It took another 50 years to see it again in any form, and 60 years to see the beautifully restored Swedish version released in December 2013. See also a publicity booklet on Internet Archive: https://archive.org/details/SingoallaAkaWindIsMyLoverAkaGypsyFuryBooklet

I have read the earlier comment on this film to the effect that it was unforgettable, and I can heartily agree. I saw it in 1951 when I was 23; I did not fully understand the dialogue because I saw the Swedish version dubbed in Greek(I was performing my military service in Cyprus at the time) but the name of the film and its stark black and white imagery remain etched in my mind since then. When I saw a photograph of a castle a few years ago which seemed to stir up memories of this film, I was impelled to go to see it - Olavinlinna in Finland - which even if I have identified it wrongly, fits well into the sort of atmosphere conjured up by Viktor Rydberg's plot.I would very much like to see the film again - it has for me a haunting quality, which is quite unusual, because my normal habit is to see a film once and forget it.

I saw this film when I was fifteen and have never forgotten the atmosphere, the b+w images of the plague years, and the passionate love between such disparate people. After all these years I still hope to see it again either on television or on the screen, but my searches for it in London and Paris have been in vain. In my memory it has acquired a magic niche.