THE film is not as good as the book, but it is still a rewarding if rather slow-moving experience. The Name Of The Rose (World, 9.30pm) is based on the flashy and erudite first novel from the Italian semiotician Umberto Eco. That means he studies signs and symbols, both of which play a part in what is essentially a medieval whodunit with theology.
Here is a film that is too provocative to dismiss, yet too lumbering to be thoroughly enjoyable. Much of its unlikely success stems from Sean Connery's charismatic performance as the brilliant English monk William of Baskerville. His Holmesian manner is reinforced by the name, which Eco took from The Hound Of The Baskervilles.
Baskerville and his teenage novice (Christian Slater) - who gets some early sex scenes with a wildly beautiful peasant girl who begs food from the monks in return for sexual favours - arrive at an Italian abbey for an impending debate between Franciscans, who live in religious poverty, and Dominicans, who enjoy a life of luxury. They have to decide whether or not the Church should be in the business of accruing wealth. The argument boils down to weather or not Christ owned the clothes he wore.
The debate is spoiled by a series of gruesome murders - monks found stuffed head first in barrels of liquor, or thrown from ramparts - which seemingly follow the prophecy of the Apocalypse. The more rational clues lead to the abbey's gargantuan library. But before Baskerville can find the truth his old rival Bernardo Gui (F Murray Abraham) turns up and matters become even more complicated. Gui sees the devil's hand in the killings; Baskerville believes more temporal forces are at work.
The Name Of The Rose has been criticised for its lack of pace, but it was a hit at the box office; no doubt because of Connery, but also because of its medieval Machiavellian qualities. The odd-looking monks appear as if they are victims of some bizarre experiment with genetics. The cinematography is wonderfully dark, as are many of the characters.
It was filmed, at no mean cost, at Kloster Eberbach, a 12th century monastery near Frankfurt in Germany which is perched on top of a mountain, dominated by a massive octagonal tower. It conveys just the right impression of majesty and menace.
