eta hoffmann

The Kosky hyper modernistic interpretation of Jacques Offenbach's Les Contes d'Hoffmann is undeniably clear: dare to enter the embrace of Eros and live to write tales about it.
For many, The Nutcracker is a holiday tradition, ushering in the season with growing trees, toy-sized battles, and sugarplum fairies tottering from one pointe shoe to the other.
"I am experiencing a kind of crisis," Tchaikovsky wrote gloomily, after being ordered by the tzar's flunkeys to compose a ballet score for a flimsy tale centred around children, rats and a candy kingdom. After the glory of The Sleeping Beauty, the Nutcracker commission seemed like an insult.
From the moment the curtain rises onto a pack of booze-swilling suburbanites engaged in a libidinous promenade, it's clear The Hard Nut is not your ordinary Nutcracker.
Over the years, I've seen some pretty awful movies. None, however, has been as expensive, as overproduced, as idiotic, as appalling, or as stupefyingly reprehensible as the The Nutcracker in 3D.