This Yugoslavian saga about two gypsy patriarchs and their unruly families is staged as a kitsch comedy in the Fellini vein. The slapstick is grotesque, cruel, and at its best, riotously funny. Mack Sennett would have been proud of the intricately choreographed sight gag which ends up with the gun-toting gypsy warlord Dadan literally in the shit. There are some quieter, more lyrical moments too - young lovers disappearing into a field of sunflowers; a rheumy-eyed old gangster watching a Casablanca video again and again. Flaunting Kusturica's usual disregard for conventional narrative, this is storytelling on the hoof, rambling, self-indulgent, but with enough warmth and humour to overcome its own excesses.