American and British luvvies have fun in southern Spain. I don't know what the Spanish think about this: The greatest work of Spanish literature turned into a Holy-Pinewood romp. The British actors got there doubtless by Easyjet, but although Lithgow is good at muting his American accent some of the others sound like they have strayed in from a beach in California. Still, one mustn't turn one's nose up at this. It is amusing even if camped-up in places. The terrible thing is it shows how just how unfortunate it was that Terry Gilliam's version got washed away. Here's a suggestion to people who enjoyed this film: read the book; and if your patience doesn't extend to this listen to the Jacques Brel version of the musical. This captures some of the pathos of the origin.
Review of Don Quixote
