This characteristically baggy film from Tony Gatlif (which, despite its title, has nothing to do with the undead) begins with one Zingarina, played by the reliably uninhibited Asia Argento, running her ex-lover to ground in a rural part of Romania.

Milan (Marco Castoldi), a Romany musician, claimed to have suffered deportation from France at about the same time Zingarina fell pregnant, but, it transpires, this was just an excuse to avoid any unpleasant disagreements.

After viewing Zingarina's response to this unhappy intelligence, it is hard not to feel some sympathy for the young man. She smashes crockery with theatrical flourish. She tears her hair like a cat lady.

No subsequent trauma is encountered without the air being shattered by her deranged bellowing. It seems surprising that Milan fled only as far as eastern Europe. Were the rainforests full up?

The main body of Gatlif's picture details the fiery romance between Zingarina and a wandering trader called Tchangalo (Birol Ünel from Head On).

Gatlif, director of Gadjo Dilo and Exiles, has been chronicling Romany life for more than 20 years and, as expected, he finds time to deliver many fascinating anthropological insights on gypsy life. The musical sequences are infectious and the scene where Zingarina undergoes a traditional exorcism is properly disturbing.

The organic nature of the Transylvania's composition - improvising on the road - does create a loose, naturalistic atmosphere, but it also leads the story down some meandering roads towards some very pretentious destinations. More than a few of Ms Argento's speeches would sit quite comfortably in a compilation of blank verse written by fans of Marilyn Manson.

Still, Gatlif does have a great feel for landscape and an uncanny knack for accommodating the viewer to hitherto unfamiliar cultures.

As amalgams of travelogue and creative shouting go Transylvania is pretty hard to beat.