Histoires extraordinaires

My vote of 9 is only for Fellini's entry, Toby Dammit. The other two are below the level of the average Twilight Zone, in my opinion. But Toby is so fine that I wish it could have been expanded to feature length. Perhaps the tone of agonized despair wouldn't have held up for 90 minutes but it certainly is great for 40. Stamp is superb. His role isn't easy, he's in every scene and has to descend from a very low point to an even lower one. Terence is completely believable the entire time. I'm not a fan of Fellini but perhaps he found his metier in humanistic horror.

I'm a big fan of horror anthologies, especially the Poe/Hawthorne ones from Roger Corman and the Amicus films. Spirits of the Dead, based on Edgar Allen Poe stories and directed by Europe's most acclaimed filmmakers of the time, didn't disappoint...well, except for the first story.

#1, "Metzengerstein," directed by Roger Vadim. A cruel nymphomaniac countess (Jane Fonda) destroys the one man she can't have (Peter Fonda). That's right, this segment's biggest distinction is that it features a romance between real-life siblings Jane & Peter. Maybe I'm just a boor with no appreciation of high art, but watching those two gaze longingly at each other gave me the serious skeeves. Somewhere amongst the implied incest, the near- implied bestiality, and Jane's leftover costumes from Barbarella is the very thinnest of plots and narrative structure. Vadim doesn't seem to have any comprehension of suspense or what it takes to present a story that, if not scary, is at least spooky. You'll be constantly looking at your watch, but don't let "Metzengerstein" discourage you from seeing the other two stories.

#2, "William Wilson," directed by Louis Malle. An angel-faced but throughly rotten and sadistic man (Alain Delon) is hounded by a mysterious man that shares his name. This was a tight, satisfying little story. In contrast to Vadim, Malle is so talented at the art of suspense that he can make a simple card game exciting. Some reviewers have been put off by the scenes of misogyny--and to be honest, they did seem to spill over into exploitation. But I think it was necessary to present just how horrible the main character was, and to contrast it with how attractive he is physically (which to me was the most fascinating aspect of the segment). I found the ending slightly confusing, but still effective & tragic.

#3, "Toby Dammit," directed by Federico Fellini. This segment is so virtuoso and packed with Higher Meaning and Symbolism and Commentary On The Nature Of Man, God and the Devil that it really feels like its own movie. A jaded, alcoholic actor is invited to Rome to film a spaghetti western based on the life of Jesus Christ and attend a bizarre Italian version of the Oscars. The world as seen through Toby's eyes is populated with freaks, liars, and soulless puppets-- no wonder he prefers the Devil (uniquely and quite chillingly presented as a little girl). The scene where he is driving the Ferrari is a little overlong, but the ending is quite jarring and the last shot one of the unforgettable images of cinematic horror. The only real negative is that Terrance Stamp, who gives an incredible performance, has his voice completely dubbed by a French actor. If only we could have heard his own voice! It would be nice if Criterion could put this segment out on its own and give it the attention & study it deserves.

Three separate stories:

• Skip the first one. Just do it. If you really must ogle the young Jane Fonda, get Barbarella.

• Your call on the second one. Okay, but not memorable.

The third story makes the film. It's "Fellini-esque"! Fellini's wild imagery makes narrative sense (well, sort of), when applied to the story of an addled English actor stumbling around Rome at breakneck speed. The segment also features a startlingly original image of evil (an "Anglican devil," I think that's the Terence Stamp character's phrase). Maybe it's just me, but the segment's conception of the devil is among the spookiest things I've ever seen on film; and when you get right down to it, it makes a lot more theological sense then ugly, scaly guys with tails.

Three Edgar Alan Poe stories, three directors, a genius director, a great director and a director. The top international stars of their day: Jane Fonda, Peter Fonda, Terence Stamp, Alain Delon and Brigitte Bardot. The Roger Vadim episode with the two Fondas is quite terrible, Jane with her left over costumes from Barbarella, is always watchable but what a mess. Delon and Bardot are fun to watch but the piece looks more a rehash of one of the weakest Hammer horror flicks than a film signed by the great Louis Malle. However, I wouldn't mind sitting through those turkeys once again for the sheer pleasure of the third segment: Fellini's "Toby Dammit" with a superlative Terence Stamp. Unique, unnerving, jaw dropping, funny, delightful gem of a film.

it is strange to see a film ignoring its artistic virtues. because it is only a puzzle of directors and texts and actors and memories. a sort of experiment. seductive. and full of nostalgia. eccentric. and bizarre. stars, Romanticism, the shadow of Edgar Allen Poe and the mark of directors. it is strange to say what part is most remarkable. because, after the final credits , remains only the drawings in dust. and pieces of old velvet. a good kick to read Poe. again. because, maybe at the first sigh only, the film seems use his work only as pretext. but, like each part of film, it could be an impression.