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Film : Vincent (1982)
Director : Tim Burton
Narrator : Vincent Price
Language : English

One of my favourite animated Short Films and I love the way Vincent Price narrates this, as a matter of fact when Vincent was asked what he thought of the short, he said that it was “the most gratifying thing that ever happened. It was immortality – better than a star on Hollywood Boulevard.”

and here’s the poem

Vincent Malloy is seven years old
He’s always polite and does what he’s told
For a boy his age he’s considerate and nice
But he wants to be just like Vincent Price
He doesn’t mind living with his sister, dog and cats
Though he’d rather share a home with spiders and bats
There he could reflect on the horrors he’s invented
And wander dark hallways, alone and tormented
Vincent is nice when his aunt comes to see him
But imagines dipping her in wax for his wax museum
He likes to experiment on his dog, Abercrombie
In the hopes of creating a horrible zombie
So he and his horrible zombie dog
Can go searching for victims in the London Fog
His thoughts though aren’t only of ghoulish crimes
He likes to paint and read to pass some of the times
While other kids read books like, “Go, Jane, Go”
Vincent’s favourite author is Edgar Allen Poe
One night while reading a grusome tale
He read a passage that made him turn pale
Such horrible news he could not survive
For his beautiful wife had been buried alive
He dug out her grave to make sure she was dead
Unaware that her grave was his mother’s flowerbed
His mother sent Vincent off to his room
He knew he’d been banished to the tower of doom
Where he was sentenced to spend the rest of his life
Alone with the portrait of his beautiful wife
All alone and insane, encased in his tomb
Vincent’s mother burst suddenly into the room
She said, “If you want to you can go out and play
It’s sunny outside and a beautiful day!”
Vincent tried to talk, but he just couldn’t speak
The years of isolation had made him quite weak
So he took out some paper and sprawled with a pen,
“I am posessed by this house and can never leave it again!”
His mother said, “You are not posessed and you are not almost dead”
These games that you play are all in your head
You are not Vincent Price you are Vincent Malloy
You are not tormented or insane you are just a young boy
You are seven years old and you are my son
Now I want you to go outside and have some real fun
Her anger, now spent, she walked out through the hall
While Vincent backed slowly against the wall
The room started to sway, to shiver and creak
His horrid insanity had reached it’s peak
He saw Abercrombie his zombie slave
and heard his wife call from beyond the grave
She spoke from her coffin and made ghoulish demands
While, through cracking walls, reached skeleton hands
Every horror in his life that had crept through his dreams
Swept his mad laughter to terrified screams
To escape the madness he reached for the door
But fell limp and lifeless down on the floor
His voice was soft and very slow
As he quoted the raven from Edgar Allen Poe,
“And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted, nevermore.”


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