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The Criterion Channel Presents: Spirits of the Dead (1968)

Really the most engaging part of Spirits of the Dead and the reason for my recommendation here is its final chapter, but the whole anthology is at least fascinating to discuss.
It was produced in 1968, as a triptych of short adaptations of lesser known stories by Edgar Allan Poe directed each by one of European cinema’s most acclaimed filmmakers. Who these were changed during the process -initially it was to feature work by Claude Chabrol, Luchino Visconti, and even Orson Welles (who was sequestered in Europe during this period). These didn’t manifest and the movie instead ultimately comprised the work of Roger Vadim, Louis Malle, and Federico Fellini. Of course that the concept of a gallery of European filmmakers adapting entirely in Italy the work of a quintessential American writer never struck anyone as odd or inappropriate speaks to how broad and popular the European cinema of the late 1960s was. Each director changes their story in some significant ways, but ultimately they do wind up largely still feeling like Poe.
Well, maybe not the first one. Vadim of course colours his segment, “Metzengerstein”, with the same eroticism he brought to And God Created Woman and of course Barbarella -which released the same year. His wife at the time Jane Fonda stars as a gender-flipped Countess inheriting an estate and turning it into what looks like a pretty fun den of debauchery, only to become transfixed by a neighbouring baron who spurns her affections leading to some vivid consequences from the Countess and a curious interest in a mysterious horse. The baron is played by Peter Fonda, Jane’s brother -a baffling choice that lends an unintended air of creepiness to every longing glance or effort at flirtation Jane’s character makes. This being an Italian movie, both are dubbed over, though they certainly sound like their real actors. Vadim makes good use of the lush environment though his story drearily meanders and becomes something of a hazy fairy tale as more and more is given over to narration requiring less from the performers -though they are not working with their best material. There is a camp value though and a buoyant sexual energy that obviously is not present in either of the other stories.
Malle adapts “William Wilson”, which is somewhat confusing again giving the Italian setting and the plot point of two characters having that titular anglicized name. His star is Alain Delon who we meet desperately on the run from unseen forces. Taking refuge in a church he seeks confession for murder and explains his backstory -including a difficult schooling period that abetted a cruelty in life, and a doppelganger with the same name. There is an interesting point of an unreliable perspective here -always something to think about with Poe- as concerning the evolution of Wilson’s character, who as an adult we see his sadistic tendencies thoroughly in action through an elongated card game against an arrogant courtesan played by Brigitte Bardot (coincidentally, Vadim’s ex-wife) that ends with him flagellating her as part of his victory. That he is considered a cheat by his double seems to suggest the other Wilson is the more righteous one. Malle does some good things with tension at the beginning and end, and Delon and Bardot handle the material stronger than the Fondas, but this the least compelling installment of the movie -confused and a little bit needlessly cruel.
Fellini though is the one who saves the film with “Toby Dammit” (from Poe’s “Never Bet the Devil Your Head”), which centres on a cripplingly alcoholic actor played by the recently late Terence Stamp, preparing to shoot a film in Rome all while being haunted by disturbing visions including that of a girl with a white ball whom he interprets as the Devil. Through this haze he attends an awards ceremony, crashes out, and then goes on a frantic joy ride. This installment -at least on the Criterion Channel- is available with an English performance by Stamp, which is the better experience. Unlike anyone else in this movie, Stamp gives arguably one of his best performances here. It is a magnificent image of drunkenness, and portrays a kind of horror at what that and depression does to one’s perception. Toby, whose career is circling the drain, is sickly-looking all throughout, his delivery of a Shakespearean monologue somewhat perverse in that juxtaposition. And Fellini really remembers that this is a horror story, his visuals are bold and striking -especially the eerie empty airport at the beginning and everything to do with the child- and the way he hones in on Toby’s destructive though still curious mind is very spooky. It does really well with the classically unnerving Poe ending, which you can certainly see coming but is nonetheless played with a very frightful mystique. After this movie, it is the one you are left thinking about.
For as interesting as they are, anthology movies are always to some degree a crapshoot of quality, and Spirits of the Dead has really just one wholly worthwhile segment. But there is something neat about the project as a whole. As far as “Metzengerstein” is concerned, Halloween has become a welcoming time for more camp pieces like it (it’s hardly all that different from something like Daughters of Darkness -just with no blood). In any case the package is worth talking about, and “Toby Dammit” at least well worth a watch this Halloween season.

Criterion Recommendation: The Wicker Man (1973)
How in the hell have I not gotten to this recommendation yet. I guess it just seems so natural that The Wicker Man, probably the most legendary and acclaimed British horror film, would already be in the Criterion Collection -but it turns out it is not. The folk horror to which all others are compared, it is the story of a British police detective and devout Catholic travelling to an obscure island in the Scottish Hebrides to investigate a murder and encountering the shocking pagan customs of its locals. With an atmosphere of eerie claustrophobia behind the contentedness of the people and frank discussions on religion, faith, sexuality and sin, it is a beguiling movie long before the anticipated May Day events that give the film its title. Edward Woodward is fantastic as the suspicious and yet fundamentally naive protagonist, while Christopher Lee gives one of his greatest performances as the haven’s charismatic leader. Paired with direction from Robin Hardy that is discomforting in its naturalism, and a script by Anthony Shaffer that accentuates the mystery up until the point the ruse is dispelled, The Wicker Man, though subtle in its scares, is a fearlessly intelligent, uniquely entrancing horror show.

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