This gorgeous, strange film (based on the novel by Dutch author Rudi van Dantzig) starts off looking like John Boorman’s life-during-wartime remembrance Hope and Glory, and ends up becoming, midway through, something completely different. In the pre-liberation Amsterdam of 1944, parents are sending their children off to the country to live with relatives, hoping that the farms are safer. Young Jeroen (Smit) is placed in the care of one such family, ably headed by God-fearing patriarch Hait (Smink). Before long, the area is liberated by a group of Canadian soldiers who then take up a brief residence in the local hotel before pulling out. One young soldier, the handsome, melancholy Walt (Kelley), develops a close relationship with Jeroen, teaching him to dance the lindy and palling around with him at every opportunity. Sensing a kinship in the boy, Walt begins what can only be called a tentative flirtation, which eventually ends with the boy’s initiation into his first sexual encounter. It’s this 90-degree turn, three-quarters of the way through the film, that may leave some viewers either shocked or confused, but taken in context, it’s the only obvious avenue for these oddly mismatched lovers. Kerbosch has framed the film with scenes of an adult Jeroen (now a ballet choreographer in Amsterdam) discussing the situation with his ghostlike, younger self, and as contrived as this may sound, it works. Hauntingly beautiful in its depiction of the somnolent Dutch countryside and its people during the war, this is one of those films almost guaranteed to slip through the cracks. It shouldn’t be allowed to, though. It handles some extremely risky subject matter with grace and charm, and deserves to be seen.
This article appears in October 22 • 1993 (Cover).