Haeckel's Tale

Announcing the appearance of a major new talent in the eighties with The Books of Blood, Clive Barker brought first to his fiction, then to his films, the resonance of a poet and the emotional/intellectual breadth of a philosopher. While his fiction broke several taboos, deliriously merging the pornographic with graphic violence, he proved that he wasn't simply a poet of perversion: the man could write! If his subsequent novels, short fiction, and films have each continued to shatter taboos of culture and artistic freedom, bravely crossing such thresholds as homosexuality, incest, and the evils of organized religion, his work is just as significant for the detailed craftsmanship that accompanies each of his dark journeys through myth and magic. For Barker the world is a canvas upon which to construct his deeply personal yet cosmically revealing epics. A weaver of modern myths boldly interweaving real histories with the 'secret histories' of beings, powers, and places (themselves a mingling of communal archetypes and his own penchant for casting ancient themes into modern and culturally pertinent molds), Barker's storytelling is somehow both personal and cosmic. A shaman of old evoking fables from firelight, Barker instils similar depth and moral ambiguity in Heackel's Tale, a Faustian parable of love and lust behind the grave. Adapted for television by series creator Mick Garris and directed with extravagance and passion by John McNaughton, this episode of Showtime's horrible hit is a celebration of personal revelation, exploring the politics of transformation and the secret byways of the human heart as only Barker's source material can. Not without flaws in story construction and execution, this entry still manages to evoke the pathos and terror of Barker's unique vision.

In a plot that seamlessly interweaves elements of eroticism and decay amidst philosophical speculation -- not to mention a nod to Old Testament morality -- Haeckel's Tale is a confrontation of our emotional fear of loss. It indulges and shames us with explicit sexual perversion, exploring the dark, shadowy caverns of uninhibited congress between the living and the dead. In a frame style beginning that houses the meat of the tale within another albeit related narrative, this short is surrounded by a folk tale atmosphere. Such is early established when Mr. Ralston, an attractive young man, arrives at a witch's shack eager to resurrect his newly dead bride. Hesitant to do so, she relates the following story, promising to bring back his beloved if the story doesn't deter him from his purpose: Ernst Haeckel (Cecil), an intelligent, industrious, scornful young man studying to be a doctor believes there is no god but science, and as such, ridicules the supernatural. Battling fate, following in the metaphysical doctrine of mystic German doctors form legend's past, he strives to capture the spark that brings with it life, hoping to save his ill father from death. Meanwhile, his faith is tested when he witnesses a ragamuffin traveler who appears to have the power to revive the deceased. Departing to reach his ailing father's side, Ernst meets elderly Walter Wolfram outside a necropolis and is forthwith invited back to his dwelling, where he meets his stunning young wife Elise. As Haeckel battles temptation and distrust, he notices that an odd arrangement has been made between the young wife and her cuckold husband -- an arrangement soon revealed to be as unholy as it is horrifyingly erotic. As the barrier between the living and the dead is crossed, and living warm flesh writhes alongside worm-riddled gristle, this twisted myth tackles themes of faith, damnation, and forbidden love with passion if not taste.

An emotionally draining story of terror and tragedy, Barker's pet themes of Faustian desire for experience, sexual excess, and transformation are captured by the adaptation by Mick Garris. Haeckel's Tale is strongest as a tale of metaphysical speculation and, more to the point, an expose of undead cuckoldry. As an erotic yet repulsive experiment in shock it works most well. As a story in general it lacks something of believability. Perhaps its worst offense is an ending so very cliché that it takes away from the power of the overall effect. Thankfully, what the tale lacks occasionally in logic or continuity it makes up for in sheer bravado. The desires of the spirit and flesh are emphasized within an exploitative framework. No moral position is shoved down our gullet. No parameters of conservative 'right or wrong' installed (for which we can be thankful). Instead we are left with a bad taste in our mouths, an ache in our hearts, and mixed feelings of enticement, fear, and desire. This is Haeckel's Tale's greatest triumph. Director McNaughton (justly revered for Henry) faithfully brings Barker's feverish marriage between the charnel house and marriage bed to the screen, interweaving the repulsive with the sexually explicit. Yes, the movie lags in places, and the final revelation proves to be no true revelation at all, but the visual excesses and style of the piece -- the atmosphere and carnality -- are so very strong as to save the picture. Disturbingly sexual overtones and wonderfully gruesome shocks are mirrored and lent real substance by Barker's penchant for layering visceral horror with philosophical speculation. This episode of MOH explores the ancient motif of 'Death and the Maiden' with unarguable lyrical, decadent beauty. If the ending is a bit of a let down, weakening its previously established narrative tension, nothing can dismiss either the imagery or mental associations evoked in the scenes where the living and the dead share pleasure. The Maiden clearly prefers Death in Barker's subversive vision, as do the living who seek solace in arms buried beneath a soil as stony as any human heart.

The visual quality for this MOH entry is superb, no surprise coming from Anchor Bay, who release the film in Widescreen 1.77:1. Flesh tones are sensual and realistic, colors are bold and vibrant. No grain or visual defects are noticeable. Audio is just as technologically pleasing, featured in both Dolby Digital 5.1 and Dolby Surround 2.0, with evenly distributed dialogue and effects and no distortions to mention.

Extras are a charnel house feast. "Breaking Taboos," a discussion of the director's life and career, cover everything from his individual conflicts to his aesthetic theories, depicting a generally informative picture of him. McNaughton recalls his early life in Chicago, a troubled marriage, experience with carnivals (similar to genre legend Tod Browning, both men bringing something of the showmanship and exploitative verve of the carnival with them in their motion picture careers), an interesting character as he recounts his history of growing up in Chicago and moving through one marriage, and his first picture. Henry and Wild Things are mentioned, as are his methods of considering a script and filming. The other significant extra here is the Audio Commentary with McNaughton, which, despite lagging in several silent periods, develops into a fine analytical talk about the nature of the genre and the thematic importance that period detail played in this story. "Working With a Master" features Michael Rooker and Tom Towles, both of which recall the shoot of Henry and McNaughton's directing style. "On Set" interviews with thespians Derek Cecil, Leela Savasta, and Jon Polito are each enjoyable if not as thorough as the above supplements, focusing how each interacted with the director and their individual approaches to character. Lesser if appreciated extras include the usual host of Trailers (always fun), a Still Gallery, Storyboard gallery, and Director's bio. For DVD-ROM, the Garris Screenplay and screen saver are included.

Review by William P. Simmons