Extraordinary TalesEdgar Allen Poe is one of American literature's most celebrated authors. He is often regarded as not only one of the earliest writers of the short story, but also a progenitor of detective fiction, not to mention his macabre and chilling works of terrifying prose and poetry. Edgar Allen Poe's life ended too young, but his legacy lives on, thriving as a cornerstone in the written word, and has inspired a variety of works from artists and enthusiasts for nearly two hundred years. Among these is Extraordinary Tales, an animated anthology of five of Poe's stories concerning death.
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The five stories that form the bulk of Extraordinary Tales are recounted in a graveyard, stories shared between a crow (Stephen Hughes) who is described to be the reincarnated spirit of Edgar Allen Poe, and a woman's voice emanating from the statues of female figures in the boneyard, who describes herself as Death (Cornelia Funke), the object of Poe's obsession. Death goes so far as to psychoanalyze Poe, describing his fixation on the inevitability of his death, while Poe retorts that his anxiety has been born from the idea that his work--his legacy--would go forgotten, neglected in time. For him, his craft is his stamp on history, his immortality, and his triumph over the wiles of this feminine finality. The tales are offered up by Death as a way to try to reinforce her argument, as each story emphasizes how death is inescapable, whether by design, accident, or mere time. Ironically, the repeated recollections of memorable works by Edgar Allen Poe also reinforces the wishes of the crow, since they represent that Poe's legacy has (and will) endure--each vignette is revealed one after the other, with each episode distinct and unique.
The style and animation of each of these pieces is what gives them flavor, each of them short films, symbolically representative of the short story style of which Poe was an expert and parent. "The Fall of the House of Usher" is filled with the ominous looming of the mighty, eponymous house belonging to Roderick Usher, the residence of the "boon companion" of our narrator, Frederick, voiced by the deep intonations of Christopher Lee. The decrepit manor is haunting, gloomy, and filled with rot and antiquity, deep with shadows and cracks sprouting up at every turn, threatening to tear itself apart. "The Tell-Tale Heart" is the story of a man stricken with a murderous urge to slay his patron for having an "eye like a vulture". Narrating his crimes is the voice of Bela Lugosi, preserved from an archive on what sounds like an LP, echoing through time itself, as though the great Dracula has risen from the grave. This story is often cited as the model for "detective fiction", with justice coming for its due as the guilt of the crime unravels the guilty. The episode is an intense contrast of black and white, with the only color a splash of red to indicate the terrible deed, the beating heart a ringing in his head, while triplicate detectives--all quite modern looking--stare at him blankly until he caves. "The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar", perhaps a lesser known work, addresses the theme of mesmerism--hypnotism--narrated by Julian Sands. In it, a man with a near ghoulish fixation on hypnotizing someone at the moment of their death comes to pass as his friend, the otherwise alone Monsieur Valdemar, is diagnosed with a terminal disease, and given mere months to live. The narrator convinces Valdemar to be the subject of his grim experiment, to see if even death can be overcome in a case of mind over matter. The look of this piece is similar to the line of horror comics published by EC Comics in the Forties and Fifties, a brand itself influenced by the style of Poe's literature no doubt.
"The Pit and the Pendulum" is drenched in the shade cast by the flickering of torchlight, and the glint of the blade of the guillotine which ultimately threatens to inflict a terrible end on the protagonist. This story is narrated by renowned horror director and animation enthusiast, Guillermo del Toro. The setting is a dungeon of the Spanish Inquisition, filled with dank despair, containing the psychological tortures which gnaw at the sanity of the narrator like the rats which keep him company. Finally, "The Masque of the Red Death" recalls the story of a masked ball where the wealthy seclude themselves to revel as the poor die of the plague out on the streets. It is arguably the most colorful and bright of these episodes, depicting the hedonistic partying of the social elite, oblivious to the end which lurks in the shadows, the pestilence which cannot be eluded, no matter how great the excess or debauchery. While there is no narration, pioneer independent filmmaker and horror movie icon, Roger Corman, lends his voice to the leader of the revels, which is apt as Poe lent his source material to Corman for several of his own cult classics.
Extraordinary Tales illustrates a crucial element of any great story--that it can be adapted by a variety of enthusiasts, can even be altered or tweaked for one reason or another, and the material remains as fresh and exciting as it was ages past. Were that even just one of these tales were adapted for the screen, it would make--and has made--for entertaining viewing. Having a buffet of material to enjoy, alongside dynamic and invigorating animation, gives the stories an extra zest and flair which keeps the experience fresh and alive. So with respect to the argument between the crow and the lilting voice of Death, they are both right. Death is inevitable, but immortality is a matter of perspective, how one is remembered.
Recommended for: Any fans of Edgar Allen Poe looking to experience these classic stories in a new fashion. Extraordinary Tales is also a great introduction to those unfamiliar with Poe, as each story is engaging, colorful, and plentiful.
The style and animation of each of these pieces is what gives them flavor, each of them short films, symbolically representative of the short story style of which Poe was an expert and parent. "The Fall of the House of Usher" is filled with the ominous looming of the mighty, eponymous house belonging to Roderick Usher, the residence of the "boon companion" of our narrator, Frederick, voiced by the deep intonations of Christopher Lee. The decrepit manor is haunting, gloomy, and filled with rot and antiquity, deep with shadows and cracks sprouting up at every turn, threatening to tear itself apart. "The Tell-Tale Heart" is the story of a man stricken with a murderous urge to slay his patron for having an "eye like a vulture". Narrating his crimes is the voice of Bela Lugosi, preserved from an archive on what sounds like an LP, echoing through time itself, as though the great Dracula has risen from the grave. This story is often cited as the model for "detective fiction", with justice coming for its due as the guilt of the crime unravels the guilty. The episode is an intense contrast of black and white, with the only color a splash of red to indicate the terrible deed, the beating heart a ringing in his head, while triplicate detectives--all quite modern looking--stare at him blankly until he caves. "The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar", perhaps a lesser known work, addresses the theme of mesmerism--hypnotism--narrated by Julian Sands. In it, a man with a near ghoulish fixation on hypnotizing someone at the moment of their death comes to pass as his friend, the otherwise alone Monsieur Valdemar, is diagnosed with a terminal disease, and given mere months to live. The narrator convinces Valdemar to be the subject of his grim experiment, to see if even death can be overcome in a case of mind over matter. The look of this piece is similar to the line of horror comics published by EC Comics in the Forties and Fifties, a brand itself influenced by the style of Poe's literature no doubt.
"The Pit and the Pendulum" is drenched in the shade cast by the flickering of torchlight, and the glint of the blade of the guillotine which ultimately threatens to inflict a terrible end on the protagonist. This story is narrated by renowned horror director and animation enthusiast, Guillermo del Toro. The setting is a dungeon of the Spanish Inquisition, filled with dank despair, containing the psychological tortures which gnaw at the sanity of the narrator like the rats which keep him company. Finally, "The Masque of the Red Death" recalls the story of a masked ball where the wealthy seclude themselves to revel as the poor die of the plague out on the streets. It is arguably the most colorful and bright of these episodes, depicting the hedonistic partying of the social elite, oblivious to the end which lurks in the shadows, the pestilence which cannot be eluded, no matter how great the excess or debauchery. While there is no narration, pioneer independent filmmaker and horror movie icon, Roger Corman, lends his voice to the leader of the revels, which is apt as Poe lent his source material to Corman for several of his own cult classics.
Extraordinary Tales illustrates a crucial element of any great story--that it can be adapted by a variety of enthusiasts, can even be altered or tweaked for one reason or another, and the material remains as fresh and exciting as it was ages past. Were that even just one of these tales were adapted for the screen, it would make--and has made--for entertaining viewing. Having a buffet of material to enjoy, alongside dynamic and invigorating animation, gives the stories an extra zest and flair which keeps the experience fresh and alive. So with respect to the argument between the crow and the lilting voice of Death, they are both right. Death is inevitable, but immortality is a matter of perspective, how one is remembered.
Recommended for: Any fans of Edgar Allen Poe looking to experience these classic stories in a new fashion. Extraordinary Tales is also a great introduction to those unfamiliar with Poe, as each story is engaging, colorful, and plentiful.