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Rating: Curious habit present in cinema a few decades ago: creating and distributing so-called episodic films. There were films divided into individual chapters, even directed by different directors, and this characteristic did not always guarantee a good overall result. "Spirits of the Dead" is a clear example of this, despite featuring a trio of highly renowned directors of the time (1968) such as Roger Vadim, Louis Malle, and Federico Fellini, who draw inspiration from three stories by Edgar Allan Poe, the master of the fantastic literary genre.
It begins with the episode titled "Metzengerstein," which follows the antics of a dissolute and brazen feudal lady (the beautiful Jane Fonda), a sort of medieval Barbarella. Responsible for disgraceful actions dictated by boredom, she falls for a haughty and detached cousin. Being rejected, she takes revenge, causing his death, and pays a high price for it. Here we have the usual with a director like Roger Vadim: glossy and polished style, with the camera glued to the beautiful leading actress (once the young Brigitte Bardot, now the then-charming Jane Fonda), but unable to create a completely captivating plot. In short, a director with a highly aesthetic but superficial style.
It gets a bit better with the second episode titled "William Wilson." Louis Malle, who directs it diligently, shows us a cynical and unscrupulous Austrian officer (played by an effective Alain Delon) always on the verge of committing misdeeds if it were not for the sudden appearance of his double or alter ego, who manages to thwart his vile intents. And when he must take revenge on a beautiful lady (unforgettable Brigitte Bardot...) cheated in a card game, the providential intervention of the alter ego results in a deadly duel between the two William Wilsons with an unexpected outcome (one might say "he who lives by the sword, dies by the sword"...).
Fortunately, the third episode is "Toby Dammit," and Federico Fellini confirms himself as an author of great value and at ease dealing with fantastic aspects of real life (the plot vaguely echoes a somewhat forgotten film like "Kill, Baby, Kill" by Mario Bava). The protagonist is an English actor (specifically Terence Stamp) known for his roles in Shakespearean dramas, with a lost look amid alcohol fumes and vaguely vampiric. He is called to Rome (unusually dazzling and dark at sunset under certain intensely orange skies) to act in what should be the first Catholic-inspired Western, with a style halfway between Pasolini and Dreyer, with references to the classic John Ford (an undoubtedly original intent...). From here, he is involved in a caravan of public engagements (television interview, awards to various members of the cinema demi-monde skillfully sketched and targeted with visionary style by Fellini) that see him increasingly confused and bored. It's evident that the English actor is like a fish out of water, interested in receiving a flashy Ferrari as a gift but also tormented by strange and disturbing omens (from time to time he glimpses an enigmatic blonde girl inviting him to play ball...). He will be deluded into finding an escape route by getting on board the Ferrari, wandering through unknown streets of Rome that could lead to a tragic outcome... Thus, thanks to Fellini, there's a memorable rendering worthy of the task, creating a fantastic atmosphere capable of keeping the viewer in suspense, curious to see which turn the story will take. And at least it can be said that the Fellinian contribution makes this film worth watching (not exactly deserving of the highest praise due to the other just-sufficient episodes), to recover anyway for some evening of this hot summer to experience some healthy thrills that can break the daily boredom.
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