The Tales of Hoffmann (Michael Powell/Emeric Pressburger, 1951)

"I have to say”, says Director Michael Powell prior to working on The Tales of Hoffmann, “I didn’t know much about the opera”. That makes both of us Mr Powell. On Extended Run at the BFI this month is the Technicolor triptych-narrative, The Tales of Hoffmann. Released in 1951, this was made three years after Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger’s celebrated masterpiece The Red Shoes. Rather than incorporating dance into a story, Powell and Pressburger decided to adapt a full performance in its entirety, presenting an epic story of romance, lost-love and tragedy.

In the interval of a ballet, Hoffmann (Robert Rounseville) regales a crowd with talk of his previous exploits. Drunkenly holding court, he tells of his first romance with an automaton (Moira Shearer/Dorothy Bond), whereby he’s required to wear glasses to see her come to life. This seeps into the second Venetian story, a devilish tale whereby a dark-haired seductress (Ludmilla Tchérina/Margherita Grandi) manages to charm his attention and steal his reflection. After a fight with her true lover (Robert Helpmann/Bruce Dargavel always playing the villain), he regains his mirrored-self but escapes, only to meander into his third story in Greece. His final romance is with a dying singer (Ann Ayars). Her singing is what’s killing her, but her voice is what makes them happy. A corrupt doctor directs her voice and, inevitably, she dies. Returning to Hoffmann’s story-telling, we see his current love (also Moira Shearer) witness the drunken consequence, as he lays passed out on the table, so she leaves with his nemesis into the night.

This recent restoration was by the Hollywood Foreign Press Association, with supervision by Martin Scorsese, the magnificent editor Thelma Schoonmaker Powell and Ned Price. Scorsese’s kudos will reach wide, and the influence of Powell and Pressburger’s grand filmmaking can be seen in many of his films, especially Shutter Island and Hugo. Glorious use of colour and dreamlike landscapes are simply mesmerising, carrying you away to a faraway land that we rarely see in cinema. The Red Shoes managed to capture that surrealist perspective that dominates the story in a single dance-sequence, while the magical opera-singing and out-of-this-world context in The Tales of Hoffmann only serves as a catalyst to exploit these dreamy notions further.

Each story is unique and linked to a specific colour palette. The yellowed ‘Olympia’ story establishes Hoffmann as gullible and the sequence toys with his desperation for love. Each arrangement reveals different vices – and virtues – of Hoffmann. Moira Shearer is outstanding in her mechanical form, shuddering to a stop, before being wound up again. Hoffmann’s clown-friend, Nicklaus (Pamela Brown/Monica Sinclair) balances the seriousness, as her glances to camera expose her frustration, presented as ‘I-give-up-with-this-guy’ shrugs. When the palette shifts to the lustful, passionate red in Venice, mass orgies and occult-magic shift the tone, but the message seems similar: Hoffmann gives his love freely to Giulietta, at a high cost. Nicklaus again, stands idly at the side, resigned to observe foolish decisions. The final story holds the biggest heart, and the clown rarely interrupts. Antonia is good, and loving. The calmness of the blue resonate a sense of peace and hope in the story. Though, as the music builds, and the crescendo is loud, we know all will end in tears.

This is not an easy watch, but it is unforgettable. Zombie-extraordinaire George A. Romero stated in 2002 that it was his favourite film of all-time – in fact, it is “the film that made him want to make movies”. Scorsese and Romero have seen something unique. Something so grand, and beautiful, that maybe only a directors-eye can truly appreciate. There is an argument that will defend the stage – why should we watch the film when the experience in the theatre will surely be superior. I’m not so sure. Powell’s ambitious direction, his vivid sets and extraordinary editing is innovative and breath-taking. One dance is shown from four different perspectives in the same shot. The dual characters are fun, but even more fascinating as one character takes off a mask to reveal himself again, and then another mask and a different character, played by the same actor. For 1951, this must’ve been terrific – and it remains terrific today.

This post was originally written for Flickering Myth

The Red Shoes (Michael Powell; Emeric Pressburger, 1948)

"Don't forget, a great impression of simplicity can only be achieved by great agony of body and spirit"

Introduction

I originally watched this film to 'inform' me of the Powell and Pressburger influence on Shutter Island. The influence is clear - specific shots of Teddy Daniels running down the stairs are shot-for-shot copies of a similar sequence in The Red Shoes. The regular argument amongst film-writers and bloggers about the necessity of appreciating older-films, I believe is here. Truly, how can you fully appreciate the technical skill and intelligence behind a film-maker like Scorsese without considering his influences. That's not to say you can't enjoy his films, but I would argue that you enjoy it more when you realise how diverse and experienced he is within the medium of Cinema - especially when a film from the forties is used fleetingly to influence a film in 2010.

A Relationship doomed to Tragedy

The film charts the life of dancer Vicky Page (Moira Shearer) and composer Julian Craster (Marious Goring) joining the Lermontov Ballet under the leader Boris Lermontov, played impeccably by Anton Walbrook. An obvious love-triangle becomes apparent through a tension resting between Lermontov himself and Vicky Page - an 'unspeakable' love. A love that is more out of a mutual desire to perfect the art of ballet rather than a sexual and physical attraction towards each other. Indeed, Lermontov does not lust after Page sexually, but lusts after her natural grace and he is desperate to exploit this - whatever the cost. The fascinating balance between madness and genius has been explored many times in films, much recently in Darren Aronovsky's Black Swan.

The Surrealism of The Red Shoes

The dance of The Red Shoes is a story by Hans Christen Anderson: A dancer wears a pair of red shoes and begins dancing and ... cannot stop. Even when tired, she cannot stop - dancing forever. This is the ballet Vicky Page finds herself destined to perform. The obvious parallel to the story surrounding this performance becomes more intriguing. Vicky finds herself falling deeper and deeper into this ballet and, as she does so, she is taken away from her loved ones. Lermontov is relentless and Vicky wants to satisfy his demands.

We are privileged to see a surrealist sequence when The Red Shoes ballet is performed - masterfully executed in an expressionistic manner. The waves crashing on the side of the stage replaces the audience. The dreamlike quality as Vicky dances as she has never danced before - we  are emotionally, physically and mentally shook to the core as we see what Vicky has created, whilst she herself becomes a victim to the art-form. This sequence alone became iconic, inspiring many other directors at the time - specifically, An American in Paris depicts Gene Kelly performing a ballet that clearly owes itself to The Red Shoes.

The Final Act

As the film draws to a close, Lermontov finds out that Vicky Page and Julian Craster are in love and this distorts his perspective: Can she dance as well if she shares her love for ballet, with her love for another? Or does Lermontov love her himself - much more than he admits?

Many ballet sequences in the film remind me of the tension between Charles Foster Kane (Welles) and Susan Alexander (Dorothy Comingore) in Citizen Kane. The difference is between the awful opera-singing that Kane supported, opposed to Lermontovs obsession for perfection regarding Page's dancing. Vicky Page is an incredible dancer; Susan Alexander couldn't sing. But both women are failing to reach the expectations of their male-supporters. Clearly a parallel with sexist attitudes of the time and the pressures men placed on their partners.

The tragic ending as Vicky jumps (to her death? to destroy her legs?) is purposefully similar to the story the ballet is based upon. In the Christian Andersen's story, her feet are "hacked" off to stop her from dancing, whilst here the tragedy lies in her desperation to break-free from the constraints others have placed onto her - or is it the shoes? With Snow White and the Hunstman and Mirror Mirror released, it is worth noting how darkly sinister these fairy-tales are - Hans Cristian Andersen wrote many of the best: Thumbelina, The Little Mermaid, The Ugly Duckling and The Snow Queen. Though moral tales, like the Brothers Grimm (writers of Snow White), these are deeply sinister stories with horrific and tragic endings. Though we know the Disney 'for-kids' version better, it is altered dramatically from the original story. The Red Shoes manages to use the story to inspire a modern-day reinterpretation, whilst staying true to the tragedy and depth or the original source material. Combine that with the fascinating, cinematic experiences of the ballet depicted on-screen and you realise that what you are watching is a masterpiece.

A Matter of Life and Death (Michael Powell/Emeric Pressburger, 1946)

"One is starved for Technicolor up there"

Introduction

In 2004, Total Film magazine called on 25 critics to decide on the Top 50 British Films ever. From Russia with Love, came in at No.9, Trainspotting hitting the No.4 spot whilst The Third Man sat at the No.3 spot. A Matter of Life and Death sat pretty at No.2 whilst Get Carter nabbed the No.1 position. It was initially a propaganda film trying to smooth relations between England and America following the second World War. It does indeed do this, but becomes so much more than that ...

Stairway to Heaven

Called Stairway to Heaven in America, A Matter of Life and Death is a film created by the hugely-influential filmmakers Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger. The duo are often considered to be directors who were ahead of their time and when you consider how A Matter of Life and Death discusses the profound and fascinating idea of life-after-death within the context of World War II, you can see how. This was not your usual romantic-drama, this was a film that equally argues its case for life-after-death and atheism as our lead character, Peter (David Niven) appears to have skipped death and is consequently put on trial by the court of Heaven. Whilst, on Earth, we are told he is hallucinating.

To show such a concept, it required large, dynamic film-sets to present the court and stairway to heaven itself. These few sequences became iconic themselves as imitations feature in the music video for the Pet Shop Boys Go West single whilst another set-up appears on the sleeve for Phil Collin's single Something Happened on the Way To Heaven. Not to mention how Conductor 71 has an interest in chess and games - a staple of the character of Death in both The Seventh Seal and Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey.

The Big Break

Jack Cardiff discusses on a Special Feature on the DVD for A Matter of Life and Death: "I had worked in black-and-white, of course, before colour came in but by the time I was old enough, or whatever, to become a cameraman, technicolour had arrived, so my first photographic job was in fact in colour - and it was called A Matter of Life and Death". Jack Cardiff's "big break" was due to Michael Powell and as a challenge, the use of colour in A Matter of Life and Death was intrinsic to to the story as Heaven was shot in black-and-white whilst Earth is shot in colour - according to Michael Powell this was because it is what the audience didn't expect. Like a reversed version of The Wizard of Oz, it seem to even give a nod to Victor Fleming's 1939 classic by even doubling-up characters in Heaven and on Earth as the Judge in Heaven doubles-up as the doctor who is operating on Peter. D.O.P. Jack Cardiff went on to become Director of Photography on The Red Shoes, Rambo First Blood: Part II and The African Queen.

Controversial Talking Point

The film initially opens on text that reads: "This is the story of two worlds, the one we know and another which exists only in the mind...". Suddenly, it scrolls up to continue the statement: "...of a young airman whose life and imagination have been violently shaped by war."

The very nature of creating a film about life-after-death and the judgement of God and starting a film noting how it only "exists in the mind" is incredibly brave. More fascinating is how the film continues to keep this theme throughout the film. Peter has survived jumping from an airplane without a parachute and you either see that as luck or you see it as a miracle ... and his 'dreams' and 'hallucinations' are either angels or figments of his mind. A specific line goes further to establish the context as everything he recalls from his dreams and hallucinations is from his memory, stating "nothing is fantastic".

The Future

At one point, the camera is sat from the perspective of Peter lying on a stetcher moving into the hospital ward. Clearly, Brian De Palma's opening - and finale -to Carlito's Way is inspired by this very sequence. The huge stage-sets at Denham Studios, created by Alfred Junge, must have inspired Ken Adams and his Pinewood Studio James Bond sets. Even the start of the film as we see June speaking to Peter as the Lancaster is about to crash down, in the WW2 context, must have inspired those final moments in Captain America: The First Avenger. Seriously - watch the two together, Joe Johnston must have known what he was doing - just compare Kim Hunter to Hayley Atwell. Then we have the ambiguity around the context - are we watching a man fight the madness that has corrupted his mind following war ... or are we watching a Final Destination guy-who-has-cheated-death scenario. Clearly, noting all those inspirations show how much ahead of their time Powell and Pressburger truly were - and how important this film truly is.