Latcho Drom

Tony Gatlif's Latcho Drom (Safe Journey), from 1993, is a vivid and entertaining Romani musical. Indeed, I would cite it as my favorite musical of the 20th century. Gatlif fills his wide screen with color, dance, song, and closeups of jaw dropping musical technique. The film is a symbolic journey from East to West that mirrors the Romani peoples wanderings from India to Spain. The march through time is reflected in the change in conveyance from donkeys to auto caravans. There is little dialogue and no plot. Scenes of nomadic travel are punctuated by musical numbers when the Romani gather and celebrate. 

The film is a series of music videos featuring noted musicians. It is not an ethnographic portrait of the Romani. Instead, Gatlif, who has devoted his life to cinematically exploring the culture of his fellow Romani, celebrates and romanticizes his players whether they be youngsters just learning to sing or grizzled hammered dulcimer virtuosos. I am a big fan of Romani music so the film was catnip for me, but may not be to others. Still, I would urge even those not familiar with what was once called, pejoratively perhaps, Gypsy music to let Latcho Drom cast its spell. The only absence for me was the lack of Romani brass bands, like the wonderful Fanfare Ciocarlia.

The Oregonian today carried the story that the Entomological Society of America is no longer using the term "gypsy moth" because Gypsy is pejorative term. Perhaps. I know that to gyp someone was to cheat them, but don't think the term is used by today's youth. Certainly, Gypsies were regarded as, at best, charming brigands in days of yore. A good example is the ancient folk ballad "Gypsy Davey" (or Black Jack Davy) where a rich young wife forsakes her husband, baby, and feather bed to sleep on the cold, cold ground with the titular stud. Everyone from Woody Guthrie to Jack White has covered the tune, but my favorite is Cliff Carlisle's sly version from 1939. It was an oldie even then. In his majestic and acidic book Country, Nick Tosches traces the ballad back to the myth of Orpheus. Regardless, I don't really look forward to the logical end reached in erasing such a slur. Should Cole Porter's "The Gypsy in Me", Stevie Nicks' "Gypsy", and Cher's "Gypsies, Tramps & Thieves (#1 in 1971) be banished into the mists of time along with the hundreds of recorded versions of "Gypsy David". I hope not.

I had a recent experience where someone I met used the term pejoratively. I was reuniting with college chums in Seattle and stayed at the slightly seedy Marco Polo Motel. When I was checking in, one of the management team decried the Gypsies he had had to put up with for the last three days. He told me that they had pointedly ignored the dictate against cooking in the rooms, but he didn't complain about the music. I saw no sign of them except for some rotten onions and grapes in a dresser drawer. 

Whatever moniker one wants to use, Latcho Drom is a splendid film that will delight the eye and ear.