If you applaud Michael Powell's tendency towards kitsch, you'll love this over- the-top, Technicolor travelogue, in which grinning Anthony Steel consistently chooses Pepsi over wine, Antonio dementedly dances down real dust-caked country roads, and in very unreal gypsy caves, and nobody really believes in the plot, except as an excuse for another ravishingly photographed Spanish location, or a garishly produced mini-ballet. Antonio's acting is of the flouncing artiste school - but it's in perfect keeping with this whole joyful, zesty farrago of colour and movement, which should be seen in its original Technirama format.