Les contes d'Hoffmann

A magnificent spectacle. A truly filmic version of a classic opera. Often mentioned as a favourite movie and constant inspiration for young Martin Scorsese.

With the audacity that Powell & Pressburger were famous for we are presented with a wonderful performance of a truly "composed" film. All the soundtrack was recorded by Sir Thomas Beecham and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and then the filming was all done on the open stage (it didn't need a sound stage) at Shepperton.

With choreography by Sir Frederick Ashton and performances by ballet luminaries such as Moira Shearer, Ludmilla Tchérina, Robert Helpmann, Léonide Massine and Sir Frederick Ashton himself. Assisted by opera stars such as Robert Rounseville and Anne Ayars and the Sadler's Wells Chorus. All this backed by the designs of Hein Heckroth and the experienced team of technicians that worked regularly under the banner of The Archers leads to a treat to behold.

The plot - from a 1951 (year of release) programme.

The Prologue : The Opera House in Nurnberg (Nüemburg). Hoffmann sits in the auditorium watching a performance of the Dragonfly ballet. He is in love with Stella, the prima ballerina, who seems the embodiment of all his past loves. In the interval Hoffmann goes to Luther's Tavern. Here young students greet him. He sings them the ballad of Kleinzack. But the sight of Stella has reopened old wounds. "Would YOU hear the three tales of my folly of love?" lie asks. The students gather round the punch bowl, with Hoffmann's companion, Nicklaus, who has accompanied him throughout his adventures, and his enemy Lindorf.

The Tale Of Olympia : As an inexperienced student in Paris, Hoffmann was tricked by two puppet-makers, Spalanzani and Coppelius, into falling in love with their latest creation, the doll Olympia. Spalanzani passes Olympia off as his daughter and hopes by this means to get some money from Hoffmann. At a ball given for her, Olympia sings the "Doll Song" and dances a ballet. Hoffmann is entranced. Only when Spalanzani and Coppelius fall out, and Coppelius destroys the doll in revenge does Hoffmann realise how he was fooled.

The Tale Of Giulietta : As a young man of the world, he was enslaved by a beautiful Venetian courtesan, Giulietta. Acting under the influence of the magician Dapertutto, Giulietta captures his reflection and so gains possession of his soul. Hoffmann kills her former lover Schlemil in a duel, to get the key to her room. He hurries back to her, but finds she has left with Dapertutto. Mad with rage, he flings the key against her mirror. It cracks, and his reflection reappears. He has regained his soul.

The Tale Of Antonia : As a mature artist and poet, Hoffmann falls in love with Antonia. Her mother, a singer, has already died of consumption (Tuberculosis). Crespel, her father, through grief at his wife's death, is now the half-mad wreck of a formerly great conductor. Crespel keeps his daughter in seclusion on an island in the Greek Archipelago and forbids her to aggravate her own weakness by singing. He also forbids his deaf servant Franz to admit either Hoffmann or the quack Dr. Miracle who killed his wife. Franz misunderstands, and in turn shows them in. Hoffmann realises Antonia is ill, and she promises him not to sing again. Dr. Miracle persuades her it is her mother's wish she should disobey. She does so, and dies in his arms.

The Epilogue : On the stage of the Opera House, it is the finale of the Stella Ballet. In the tavern Hoffmann's audience is spellbound. Hoffmann's tales are told and with the telling Hoffmann finds his true destiny as a poet. Stella appears at the door of the tavern and looks down at him. But Lindorf, who has also understood the meaning of the Tales goes to meet her and together they pass out into the town.

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.

I'm not a fan of ballet but I've always loved Powell and Pressburger's THE RED SHOES (1948); so, naturally, I've been looking forward to this one ever since it was first announced - years ago - as a Criterion release! However, THE TALES OF HOFFMANN features the added element of opera; indeed, the entire film is sung!

On first viewing, my reaction to it was mixed: it's impossible not to be impressed by the visuals (particularly the stylization of Hein Heckroth's colorful and imaginative designs) but, since I'm no expert in classical music, I wasn't bowled over by Jacques Offenbach's score (apart from the celebrated "Barcarolle" piece) - especially since the lyrics, despite being an English translation, aren't easily followed! However, listening to it with the Audio Commentary, I could better appreciate the way it was made and the special effects that were adopted; especially interesting was the fact that it was filmed silent, thus allowing freer camera movement. The main cast, apart from Pamela Brown, is made up of ballet performers and opera singers - with the former, mostly recruits from THE RED SHOES, carrying the more compelling screen presence.

The framing story - featuring an additional ballet composed by the film's conductor Sir Thomas Beecham - is a bit short, so that we mostly learn about the characters played by Robert Rounseville (as Hoffmann) and Robert Helpmann through their various guises in the former's three tales (which are themselves variable in quality):

i) the "Olympia" sequence, highlighting Moira Shearer and Leonide Massine, is overlong but quite charming; Helpmann's distinctive features are rather buried under some quaint make-up - though his violent destruction of Shearer (who plays a doll) makes for a quite unsettling moment!

ii) "Giulietta" is the best and most interesting sequence, but also the shortest: Ludmilla Tcherina is a very sensuous heroine, while Helpmann and Massine are wonderful (and wonderfully made up) as respectively an evil magician and a (literally) soulless officer under both their spell; this sequence features some incredible imagery - like Tcherina's reflection in water picking up the aria she is singing, her walking over sculptures of dead bodies, Rounseville and Massine's saber duel set to music (i.e. presented without any sound effects) and the scene in which Rounseville loses his reflection when tempted in front of a mirror by Tcherina

iii) the "Antonia" sequence is again too long (it was severely cut in the original U.S. theatrical release) and, because it's mostly straight opera, emerges as the most labored segment: Massine is pretty much wasted here, while Ann Ayars is nowhere near as captivating as Shearer or Tcherina; however, Helpmann's belated entrance as the satanic Dr. Miracle takes the sequence to another level, and especially memorable here is the scene where Ayars exits a room only to re-enter it from another door (which must have inspired a similar incident in Mario Bava's KILL, BABY, KILL! [1966]) and the one where Ayars and Helpmann's dancing figures are divided into four to fill up the entire screen - with the latter taking each of his guises in the different segments and, likewise, the former being replaced with the heroines of each tale (Moira Shearer appears twice here as she also plays Stella, Hoffmann's love interest in the framing story!)

The Archers' films are among my favorites - though I was somewhat underwhelmed by I KNOW WHERE I'M GOING! (1945; I still haven't purchased the Criterion SE), THE BATTLE OF THE RIVER PLATE (1956; amazingly, both of my two attempts to view it in the past have only managed to put me to sleep!) and, now, THE TALES OF HOFFMANN. I've yet to watch 4 of their collaborations - CONTRABAND (1940; I've been tempted, time and again, to buy Kino's bare-bones DVD but the over-inflated price always got in the way!), THE ELUSIVE PIMPERNEL (1950), GONE TO EARTH (1950; this troubled production isn't likely to see the light of day on R1 DVD anytime soon, but is at least available via a budget-priced R2 edition), and their last 'musical' together OH, ROSALINDA! (1955). I would also like to watch Powell's solo films HONEYMOON (1959) and BLUEBEARD'S CASTLE (1964), which are yet two more musically-oriented ventures.

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.

Powell and Pressburger made this overblown opera a few years after their ballet film, The Red Shoes. Featuring good performances from Robert Rounsville, Moira Shearer, Robert Helpmann and Pamela Brown and some fantastic images; plus that great music from Offenbach (not always easy to follow the stories but they are enjoyable) and lots of garish Technicolor. I think Olympia might be my favourite of the stories but I did find them all equally excellent. Hard to categorise this movie but in the P&P canon it stands as one of their best.