Hoffman Ballet of Technicolor Doom

....And now, ladies and gentlemen, a story of misadventure, daring, and ultimate despair, a story of operatic floppery like no other!

A few years ago, I was sick with a cold and channel-surfing when I caught an interesting piece on the Turner Classic Films channel: what looked like an opera dubbed over a ballet! I had never seen, heard, or heard of this opera before and did not recognize it. It involved a young gentleman, his friend (a lady in a trouser role), a puppeteer, his assistant, and his rival, and lots and lots of marionettes and dolls, including one in a yellow dress who sang a very charming aria and whom the young gentleman obviously mistook for a real girl. I checked the channel listings to find the title of the film: "The Tales of Hoffman."

In 1953, this film version of  Jacques Offenbach's "Les Contes D'Hoffman" (See previous entry "Tales of a Drunk, Depressed Fantasy Author" for plot details) was made in England. It starred a whole score of world-famous dancers and opera singers. It was the inspiration behind other directors' careers, it was a sensation, it was-- well, I'll tell you.

This film was my first introduction to "Hoffman." I absolutely fell in love with the Doll Song after seeing that clip of the film on telly. So, just a few months ago, I ordered the DVD from Netflix, just to see what the whole thing was like. For the most part, it was pretty interesting. It has several superfluous ballets inserted and several major numbers removed. For instance, the overture is a pan-over of the rooftops of Hoffman's town, but the opening "Glou, glou, glou!" is set to a "Dragonfly Ballet" with Moira Shearer (supposed to be Stella performing) and Edmond Audran. No Muse, no monologue, no spirits of wine and beer, just the dancers, and indistinct voices in the background mumble-singing "Glou, glou glou" in English. After that are some explanatory shots of Lindorf and Stella's servant. Lindorf's lines and opening aria are cut. Then we get to the bar-- Luther's tavern. Things get a little more accurate there, and the English translations aren't half bad. Heck, they threw in a ballet of Kleinzach when Hoffman sings "Il était une fois à la cour d'Eisenach". Cute. Charming. Whatever. On we head to Olympia-- a very Disney-like story book page shows us the cast of the story, as well as the setting. There is a new setting for every tale, as well as a new cast (for the most part). It's a very interesting production, really-- Spalanzani, Cochenille, Coppeliús, Hoffman, and Nicklausse are the only people who are real, and even Cochenille is only half-human. Everyone else is marionettes and dolls. Coppeliús's design is a little freaky. There are eyes sewn all over his coat (Ha-ha, very funny touch, Mr. Costume Designer) and although you can't see it in the picture, his eyebrows literally stuck four inches off of his face! I was pleased that they kept his aria in. It's a great piece, and they did some really interesting things with all the weird spectacles and pince-nez. Moira Shearer (who danced) and Dorothy Bond (who sang) rocked the mic as Olympia! They were the coolest version of Olympia I have yet seen. Odd choices in this act? Olympia starts brushing Hoffman off when they're alone and he accidentally "pushes the wrong button" as it were. In the opera, she simply runs off, which leaves him confused. Also, when Coppeliús takes her apart, the director cleverly used a black velvet background and pieces of matching black velvet to cover the various ligaments that are "broken." Howevever, this was shoddily done: the editing of the effect was choppy and amateur, there are some moments where the velvet on Moira Shearer slides up and you can see her skin, and for the final shot of her disassembled body, you can clearly make out her form, with one leg still exposed in the Olympia costume, sitting on a platform while the said remaining leg "dances" on its own.

 Giulietta Act: Totally freaking creepy!!! The opening shows Giulietta in her weird, skin-tight, green bodysuit on a gondolier singing "Belle Nuit" with her own reflection-- uh, weird! In her house, there are all these scantily clad people lying around on stone tablets making out and eating, and Hoffman suddenly has a mustache. Uh, really weird! Dapertutto dances around a hall turning candlewax into jewels while singing a poorly-translated English version of "Scintille, diamant," and offers Giulietta a poorly-designed and mismatched necklace of said wax-jewels, and there's some more terrible special effects editing as he turns them into a string of multicolored wax round her neck and back into jewels again. Also, the beautiful sextet "Helas, mon coeur s'egare encore" consists merely of Hoffman walking around in a circle and each joining part of the sextet following him in that circle. That's all they do. Just walk in a circle and sing. Totally weird! Also, in the part where Hoffman loses his reflection, he and Giulietta dance in front of what looks like a mirror, but is in fact and empty space, into the distance of which are dancing another pair of dancers as the reflections of Hoffman and Giulietta, and eventually, the second Hoffman disappears. How can I tell? The "reflection" couple got out of sync a couple of times. Too weird! 

Antonia Act: Lots of bad, bad choices. They set it on an island in Greece, which is strange considering the libretto specifically says in one of Crespel's lines that they're in Munich.They cut Frantz's aria, which didn't bother me so much because I find that one a little annoying, but whatever. Dr. Miracle looks exactly like Dracula. Come on, production designer! Couldn't you have come up with something a little more original? Most of Crespel's lines are cut, they made some really strange directing choices with the trio that starts with "Si vous voulez accepeter mon secours," i.e., it was pretty much all shots of either the Dr. and Crespel or Antonia running around her room looking scared. And the one thing that really irked me about this act: When Antonia and Miracle and Antonia's mother (in this production, a statue) have their duet, you see these lights shining behind the statue-- but it stays a statue. You'd think that with all the money these people obviously spent on costumes, sets, special effects, the hiring of dancers and singers, etc., that they could at least bring the statue to life (or fix the weird editing from the two prior acts). Come on!

Last act: There is another superfluous ballet in which Hoffman's Three Loves and Three Nemeses dance around and eventually turn into Stella and Lindorf. Nice little way to explain things to an audience, but you can cut those dances down by like, ten minutes! And then, after everyone leaves, Stella enters, finds Hoffman drunk, and leaves with Lindorf. Final pet peeve? They cut the Muse's revelation. I sat through two and a half hours of blinding technicolor drug trip ballets, and I don't get to see Hoffman have his happy ending with the Muse?? NO FREAKING WAY. Those are two and a half hours of my life I will never get back. Apparently, they filmed that ending (and painted the actress who played the Muse in gold leaf for it) but decided to cut it out of the film. Lamesauce, guys!

The casting was really excellent. Robert Rounseville and Ann Ayars, who played Hoffman and Antonia, respectively, were the only cast members who sang their own roles. 
Lindorf, Coppeliús, Dapertutto, Dr. Miracle: Bruce Dargavel sang and Robert Helpmann danced.
Nicklausse: Acted by Pamela Brown, sung by Monica Sinclair 
Olympia and Stella: Danced by Moira Shearer and Olympia sung by Dorothy Bond.
Giulietta:  Danced by Ludmilla Tchérina, sung by Margherita Grandi
Spalanzani, Frantz, Schlemil:  Léonide Massine danced, and Grahame Clifford sang Spalanzani and Frantz.
Kleinzach and Cochenille were danced by Frederick Ashton and Cochenille and Nathaniel were sung by Murray Dickie.
Hermann, Schlemil, and Crespel were sung by Owen Brannigan and danced by Richard Golding, Léonide Massine, and Mogens Wieth, respectively.

The dubbing was absolutely awful. I understand, it's hard to concentrate on your mouth when you're moving around so much, but no one should try to get away with that in a movie! Of all the ballerinas and danseurs (yes, that is the proper term for a male ballet dancer), Ludmilla Tchérina was the most consistent about lip syncing. Snaps to her! The sound quality of this film is terrible. It's in English, and I still have to put on subtitles because I can't hear a single ruddy word anyone is saying! And, as was usual in the early 50's when filmmakers were still experimenting with color film, every single color in this film is not in any particular set palette and therefore clashes with every other color, and all of these gaudy, clashing colors are horribly bright and saturated. It's blinding! And ballet is nice and all, but two and a half hours of a creepy, technicolor ballet? That's a little much for me, and I'm all for weird forms of theatre. 

So what's my verdict? Unless you are more curious than that cat that got killed, don't bother with this movie. It holds many disappointments. I hope you enjoyed the review, and as always, I remain,

Your friend and fellow opera-lover,

~R.M.