Les contes d'Hoffmann

"The Tales of Hoffmann" (1951) - a beautifully photographed film version of Jacques Offenbach's opera, his final masterpiece is a magic (and there is no other word to describe it) blend of Adventure / Romance / Fantasy / with an endless stream of gorgeous melodies, seductive and tender love scenes, bizarre characters - comic, romantic or villainous, and tragic climaxes. The film was a follow-up to "The Red Shoes" (1948) a fantasy/musical/romance/drama set in the world of ballet with the same directors, stars, and production designers.

In "The Tales of Hoffmann", Robert Rounsevill stars as E.T.A. (Ernst Theodore Amadeus) Hoffmann, the poet and writer who tells three stories of his great but unhappy loves all ending tragically thanks to the meddling of his enemy, a supernatural villain (Robert Helpmann as quadruple evil, Lindorf, Coppelius, Dapertutto and Dr Miracle). Objects of Hoffmann's love and admiration include Olympia the wind-up doll (Moira Shearer who also plays Stella the dancer, the fourth and yet another Hoffmann's misadventure), Giulietta, the Venetian courtesan who sails away after trying to capture Hoffmann's soul (Ludmilla Tchérina -absolutely brilliant as the siren and the seductress who elegantly walks over the dead bodies, literally), and Antonia the beautiful opera-singer with the fatal voice and deadly illness. One of the greatest choreographers and dancers of the last century, Léonide Massine shines in three absolutely different roles demonstrating his talent as a dancer, strong emotions and tremendous humor.

What makes "The Tales of Hoffmann" not just an ordinary screen adaptation but the stunning unforgettable event, the film which had inspired the future famous directors George Romero and Martin Scorsese to become the filmmakers is the perfect combination of fantasy, classical music, ballet, singing, stunning visual effects, imaginative and often bizarre and even disturbing images that would fit a horror movie (deconstructing Olympia –the doll is horrifying), incredible but calculated feast of colors, their mixture, the unique color palette to match each story, camera work that is so innovative and dynamic that even now, 56 years after the film was made, looks fresh and modern. The feast for eyes, ears, and feelings, "The Tales of Hoffmann" is the love child of incredibly talented people from different epochs and countries. The opera by Jacques Offenbach, the French composer is based on the dark romantic fairy tales by the German E.T. A. Hoffmann. The team of two directors known as "The Archers", the British Michael Powell and the Hungarian Jew Emeric Pressburger who had to flee his country before the WWII, and their international team of stars, color consultants, choreographers and production designers made this miracle happen. The last but not the least is legendary Sir Thomas Beecham conducting the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra.

Certainly THE TALES OF HOFFMANN is not a film for everyone. It's done as pure opera with singing throughout and performed as a ballet with lavish set designs and breathtaking use of Technicolor. It won Oscar nominations for Set Decoration and Color and is produced in the tasteful style of all Powell and Pressburger films.

But the drawback is that only the tale of Olympia, the mechanical doll, and the ill-fated love affair with the young Hoffmann (played in all three segments by tenor Robert Rounseville) is up to the top standards the film strives to achieve. The other tales of Hoffmann's follies are less interesting, not as easy to understand and not as entertaining or melodious as the Olympia segment.

The final tale of Antonia suffers from the high notes forced upon screeching soprano (Anne Ayars) and the demands of the score which is clearly more tedious than melodious at this point.

Robert Helpmann as the villain in all three tales is excellent and Robert Rounseville as Hoffmann is the only cast member who does his own singing in a strong tenor voice. You may remember him as Mr. Snow in Rodgers and Hammerstein's "Carousel" with Gordon MacRae and Shirley Jones.

But there's no denying the magic of all the visual images on screen which includes the use of puppets and a good mixture of cinema and stage techniques. Opera lovers will find fault with some of the singers but it's hard to see any fault in the dancing which looked magnificent to me.

None of the stories are as involving as "The Red Shoes" and this is one of the weaknesses of the film. The first story is far better than the rest of the tales which makes for an uneven blend of storytelling.

A brilliant use of color and classical music makes it a "must see" for most film buffs.

TALES OF Hoffman – Powell & Pressburger This colorful film adaptation of an by Offenbach is a musical in the truest sense, meaning every bit of narrative and dialog is put forth by means of song. I am not in general the biggest fan of such endeavors, but it works quite well for this film, although some of the love paeans may be outstaying their welcome.

In the story a poet – Hoffman – tells in episodic fashion about the many times that he has loved and lost. There have been several films made with such a theme but Hoffman stands well apart because of the Goth-fantastic nature of the narratives. Hoffman, in turn, falls in love with Olympia - a puppet, Guiletta - the temptress of a soul-stealing demon, and Antonia - a singer doomed by fatal consumptive illness.

This narrative is complemented by the brilliantly supportive artistic design of the film. The makers construct a deliberate stage-like ambiance, with the use of representative backdrops, suitably exaggerated props and striking motifs to convey the settings and moods of the various episodes. In this aspect it shares strong kinship with Masaki Kobayashi's period ghost story anthology Kwaidan. You also have the concept of the same actor returning to play different parts in the various episodes of Hoffman's life, the most notable of which is Robert Helpmann who portrays the sinister element in all the episodes (and with his vampiric menacing look, does a terrific job of it, although his motive for evil in the Antonia episode goes unexplained).

The fantastic elements of the plot, color-drenched distinctive look, intricate balletic choreography and excellent fit of all the actors in their roles make Tales of Hoffman a very interesting watching experience on the whole.

One of my caveats with the film is that Hoffman's companion Nicklaus is never properly explained. Who is this woman in man's garb and why is she doing what she does?

I liked the Red Shoes more, but Tales of Hoffmann is still an excellent Powell & Pressburger movie. While I did have trouble understanding the English opera (my first one at that), the episode character lists really helped. It's interesting to note that as Hoffmann tells his tales, the women in each episode become more "real." It did seem to drag on a bit at times, but I think it might be one of those movies that looks better with a second or third viewing. Still a wonderful and dazzling movie with amazing set & costume designs & expertly directed.

I was privy to two views of Powell and Pressburger's THE TALES OF HOFFMAN before watching it: filmmaker Martin Scorsese's passion for the film, stemming from childhood, and critic Imogen Sara Smith's confession that she found the movie "airless." Most viewers seem to agree with Scorsese. There is no doubt that the visuals are imaginative and gorgeous: if you loved the ballet sequence of THE RED SHOES, then this gives you two hours' worth of that same expressionistic sublimity.

However, unlike THE RED SHOES, HOFMMAN is a much colder experience. For a film about the joys and sufferings of love and desire, the whole thing is quite remote, never reaching the emotional depth of other Powell and Pressburger films. The whole thing feels overlong and if you aren't an opera fan, you aren't likely to take to the music either.

The three sequences which make up the runtime are uneven: the Olympia story is whimsical and fun though a touch overlong; the Giuletta sequence is gothic and well-paced; the Antonia sequence is just about the worst. Olympia and Giuletta benefit from having charismatic performers at their center in Moira Shearer and Ludmilla Tcherina, but Ann Ayars lacks any real personality as the dying songstress, making the last section such a drag to sit through.

By the time the film came to its close, I was more than ready for it to be done with. No doubt, a lot went into the sets, costumes, special effects, and camera work. I must also give a shout-out to Robert Rounseville as Hoffman: he carries himself well throughout the long running time. But I'm sorry to be the naysayer: when a movie is over two hours long, I need more than gorgeous visuals to see me through it.