OMG, what the fuck is this? Yes, it’s the operatic epic of Hoffmann (though I still have no idea who the fuck he is) and three of the loves of his life. But…dude, man, FUCK!
Written, directed, and produced by famed Brits the Archers–Michael Powell and Emetic Pressburger–The Tales of Hoffman is an old school movie they just don’t make anymore. Visually, a stunning Technicolor wet dream complete with elaborate dance numbers, lavish costumes, and big trippy-ass sets. It’s serious eye candy with a major gay sensibility (I have no idea whether Powell and Pressburger were gay or not). It’s impressive for its scale alone, and certainly is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
But what the fuck just happened? Clocking in at just over two hours, I thought The Tales of Hoffmann would never end. It’s pretty, but it’s long–it seems longer than it is. For me, it was probably sensory overload with not enough plot. Did I mention, what the FUCK?
(Music Box) D