The Fabulous Baron Munchausen

The Baron Munchausen was a fanciful character of eighteenth century German literature who was based upon real life counterparts such as The Baron Hieronymus Karl Friedrich and of course, The Baron Freiherr von Munchhausen.  He was a war hero, storyteller, playboy.  A man of tall tales and huge dreams.  Unfailingly brave.  Maybe one of those descriptors negates the others.  He would become the subject of at least two cinematic treatments in the twentieth century - a 1988 live action feature from dreamer extraordinaire Terry Gilliam, and a curious live action/animation hybrid from 1962 called THE FABULOUS BARON MUNCHAUSEN, courtesy of Czech director Karel Zeman.

Curious is the word.  An utterly captivating pop art cinematic trip that is the very definition of visually stunning.  Zeman employs mixed media in a fashion that never seems like a collision, rather entirely organic.  Tinted film stock, colors favoring blue and yellow, each other entirely comprising the frame.  Red water and smoke.  Live actors riding horses that can gallop through space and underwater.  Illustrated foregrounds and backgrounds merge with puppetry.  It all occupies the same space to create a wondrous and heartfelt adventure that should thrill dreamers of all ages.

THE FABULOUS BARON MUNCHAUSEN begins on the moon, a cosmonaut surveying its lunar surface, eventually running into Cyrano de Bergerac, who introduces him to characters from Jules Verne's novels.  The titular Baron then arrives, inviting the young man to a table to join in a celebration of wine, but he seems disinterested.  Clearly, the spaceman needs to be brought to Earth to learn about love and adventure.

With the Baron as his guide, it is sure to follow.  It is eighteenth century Constantinople, and the Ottoman Empire is still lorded by sultans and enforced by armadas of warships.  There are large scale battles in which the Baron rides cannonballs towards the enemy and back again.  A Princess to rescue.  A giant fish whose belly swallows our heroes and travels the world.  A grand plot to turn a well into a rocket to reach back to the moon. "Tony", the spaceman (Rudolf Jelinek) soon finds he is a grand fantasist like the Baron (Milos Kopecky, who's wonderful), and in competition with him for the fair Bianca (Jana Brejchova). Oh, and Turkish tobacco.

The film moves from one astonishing set piece to the next.  Sluggishness is at a minimum.  Zeman has a wide eyed and at times wry point of view. His film plays like the coolest illustrated children's book (with a few borderline adult moments) ever.  Pure magic.  Its style at times suggests it may have worked even better as a silent movie, but then we wouldn't hear Cyrano's lovely closing narration. It sends the film out on a very sweet note.