Next to Romeo & Juliet, no tale of romance has been retold as many times as Carmen. From a novella by Mérimée and a famous opera by Bizet, this story of passion and betrayal has stood the test of time, not to mention a boatload of adaptations. With so many of these films in existence, the world of cinema might not need another Carmen. Still, under the direction of Carlos Saura, this 1983 version stands out, thanks to its unique storytelling and an unforgettable set of dance moves.

Renowned toe-tapper Antonio Gades plays a version of himself, a man searching high and low for the lead in his flamenco-tinged performance of Carmen. Spain's finest dancers show their stuff, but none strike Antonio as the right choice to play the titular firebrand. But while scouting a local dance studio, one figure tickles our boy's fancy: a young woman actually named Carmen (Laura del Sol), who embodies Antonio's vision for the character. Despite her lack of experience and tendency to show up late for rehearsals, Carmen gets hired for the gig, though not everyone seems pleased by her casting. As tensions flare between Carmen and her castmates, Antonio's lust for her also rises, plunging both of them into a rather steamy affair. However, when it's discovered that Carmen harbors her fair share of secrets, her coupling with Antonio threatens to meet an end similar to what  Mérimée envisioned.

Carmen embraces the idea of art imitating life, and then some. Employed here is a thematic device similar to one used in Blood Wedding, a previous meeting of the minds between Saura and Gates. In depicting a bare-bones dress rehearsal, the men took pleasure in blurring genres and fiddling with reality. You never knew if you were watching the performers or their characters, a concept Carmen develops even further. The film is a true example of reinvention, as it pays homage to its source material while respectfully tweaking it to fit in a modern setting. It's much more accessible than Blood Wedding, since it's easier to differentiate between "real life" and what's part of the show. But that doesn't prevent Carmen from springing to life once these worlds collide. On their own, the concurrent story threads are involving enough; woven together, they produce a special electricity few films can duplicate. There's no end to the pleasure of scenes like the one showing Carmen's rivalry with the company's best dancer (Cristina Hoyos) spilling over into a rehearsal session, or another depicting Antonio confronting a figure from Carmen's past.

Choreography is another element giving Carmen its distinctive quality. All the long-winded monologues in the world can't hold a candle to getting the same job  done with nary a word being spoken. Such is the case with Carmen, a picture short on dialogue but abundant with riveting dance sequences. The story itself appears tailor-made for the flamenco treatment, as this style perfectly encapsulates the fevered emotions flowing through its veins. Such scenes become a true part of the overall viewing experience. Of course, there are two sides to Carmen, though it's a shame they don't get along any better. For as often as the dancing sets the screen on fire, it's cooled down exponentially whenever the focus is on Antonio's offstage romance, which is not as effectively established as its theatrical counterpart, and while the end is only fitting, the final twist of the knife (so to speak) fails to hit you as hard as it should.

Carmen, not a traditional piece by any means, centers more on enhancing its artistic attributes than on simply telling another doomed love story. Although a few potential viewers might shudder at the mere thought of something out of the ordinary, it's hard to imagine even the subtitle-phobic being frightened by Carmen and its tantalizing nature.

MY RATING: *** (out of ****)

(Released by Orion Classics; not rated by MPAA.)